Bun is at that funny stage where everyone in a flight suit and cap is "Daddy." Yesterday, we all dressed in green for a St. Patrick's Day children's social on base. The only thing green (that was warm enough for negative 11 degree weather) Pookie had to wear was his flight suit we bought him for Halloween. So, I let him wear it. When Pookie appeared at the top of the stairs in the morning all pleased with himself dressed like Danny, Bun saw him and said excitedly, "Daddy!" followed very quickly by, "No" as if to correct himself.
But after we were all dressed and had a fun morning together, I decided we'd all go to Danny's work to eat lunch with him at the Soup/Chili Fundraiser before going to our children's social. Even though they'd be charging $5 a person, I rationalized it away in the good name of donations to a worthy cause and the fact that I wouldn't have to prepare or clean up lunch. (And I donated 8 mini-loaves of bread and 1 regular size loaf and wanted to see how well they were being chosen). I loaded all three kids into the van and then to Danny's work and then into the Sit-n-Stand Deluxe stroller (technically just for two kids-- but my kids weigh next to nothing) and wheeled them into Danny's work. Every missileer we passed on the way in that wasn't female got a "Daddy!" from Bun-- and then a confused look. That looks like Daddy. That's about the right size for Daddy and the blue hat and the green flight suit . . . hmm.. what's going on? Why so many non-Daddies?
Nineteen months is such a fun stage. It doesn't hurt that Bun is very amiable and Chubbalicious. The kids have their routine fun with him daily. G wrestles him down, lifts up his shirt and blows raspberries on his belly-- every. single. day. We call them "flurrbits" in our home though- not raspberries. Pookie tells him things so Bun will repeat them. Pookie also encourages Bun to join in on games of chase around the furniture in circles, or whatever imaginary game they've created. Pookie and G especially love to pretend that they are going to gobble up his chubby little feet when he's strapped into the highchair. And of course Bun squeals and squeals with laughter and giggles of delight from it.
Bun loves to go get the eyes from the "Potato Bin" (Mr. Potato head parts) and bring them to me and surprise me, pulling them out quickly from behind his back and yell, "EYES!" And then I pretend that "Oh no! The eyes are going to get me." And he giggles and giggles and does it again, and again, and again.
And just a few days ago he started to pretend he's a kitty as he's climbing the stairs. It's worrisome since he gets distracted on the stairs and falls if we're not there to catch him. But we consider it our Bun-Kitty warning. We hear a little kitty meowing and we know it's him letting us know he's on his way up.