THe oldest.

Because its been a while since I've done some child specific posts - and because my journal is packed and I can't put this stuff in it right now.

Braxton has never liked being dirty. Ever. His first birthday was not the blowout we expected. That was the first moment we really noticed he was different... He completely freaks out if he spills, or if he gets dirt on him. In some respects I'm so grateful for this attribute. I never had poo adventures with him. He learned to be a neat eater quickly, and is always in a better mood when the house is clean and organized. (Though he's not generally one to stand up and say he'll clean it...). Anyway, Braxton loves fruit. Except watermelon and oranges. I finally discovered why yesterday. They "get all drippy on him". No joke. He won't eat them because they'll drip on him and make him messy. I guess that means a night at the Melting Pot is out...

A little backstory:

Many months ago, while brushing Braxton's teeth, Mark and I were discussing possibly taking the boys to a Sesame Street Musical. (We never did... durn it.) Anyway, I said the word "tickets" and the boy erupted into giggles. Hard core belly laughs. Weird, I know. So, to this day that word still makes him dissolve into a giggling mess. This is how my dinner went last night:

B-rox: "Daddy... TICKETS!"

Mark: "TICKETS!"

B-rox: "TICKETS!"

Mark: "TICKETS!"

By this point the laughing was uncontrolable and he could hardly say the word - but managed to continue to squeak it out for an entire inning. At which time I, the killjoy, said the words "pajama time" and killed all the noise instantly.

The B-rox and his brand new big boy bike. Here's where I'm having trouble. Braxton seems to have learned the phrase "I can't". Right now he seems convinced he "can't" pedal.

On our little excursion, this is what I heard while I very patiently, and lovingly encouraged him.

"Mom, I can't pedal because my knees are too big"

"Mom, I can't do this because my booty is too small"

"Mom, I can't do this because my shoes are too slippery"

"Mom, I can't do this because my toes aren't working"

"Mom, I can't do this because my head is too hot."

"Mom, I can't do this because I'm still young."

There were more, but those are the only ones I truly remember and don't want to make any up, so as to keep the integrity of the post.

This "I Can't" phase is very frustrating and exhausting. I don't know where he got it, as the most I have an occasion to say I can't towards is opening a spaghetting jar now and then. This is not the attitude of an achiever - and I really hope he outgrows it.