New tricks for Shef:

He’s more-or-less mastered his colors. Blue makes him feel especially happy. He’s says it in two syllables: “Buh-LOO!” And then he runs in for a hug to celebrate his color-identification prowess.

He’s obsessed with a ridiculous Raggedy Ann and Andy book that my mom bought for him. This book has inane plot twists, including the fact that Raggedy Ann and Andy can blindfold the Camel With Wrinkly Knees and make him run backwards in order to find their friend Babette, who has been kidnapped by dim-witted, fake-nose-wearing pirates. Luckily, the pirates are more than willing to give up marauding in exchange for free lollipops given to them by a bespectacled horse. Sadly for us, our beloved now requests this book six or seven times per day, and there's no chance he'll settle for a synopsis.

My mom’s house (which, as I mentioned before, is where we now live) is fully decorated for Christmas. Nana has taught Shef to identify Baby Jesus, Mary, Angels, and Joseph, whom he sometimes just calls “guy.”

He doesn’t understand real tv, having been raised on tivo the way he has. Whereas before I could easily help him out when he asked to watch
“Journey to Ernie again” (and again and again and again), now he has to watch whatever segment of “Elmo Street” that happens to be on with no rewinding or skipping at all. I can’t really blame him for being pissed.

Finally, Shef has picked up quite a few new sentences. “Where could Daddy be?” “Where’d the paci go?” “Aunt Mary come over!” and my personal favorite, “Hi, Mommy. How doin’.”