We are celebrating Oliver’s fourteen-month birthday at the Greensboro Grasshoppers minor league baseball game. Instead of a Presidents’ race, we have a Neese’s Sausage Race. Some lucky winner receives ten pounds of sausage. No lie! We will not need to acquire a deep freezer after today’s game. And we usually decline to cash in the free Biscuitville sausage biscuit coupons that come with a strikeout. I sense a theme here.
At this stage, Oliver is a very solid toddler. He definitely looks drunk most of the time. But he has abandoned crawling and may be attempting to run.
A few firsts this last month, which may seem a little backwards. Oliver is letting me feed him with a spoon. Plus I can finally transfer him from his car seat into his stroller and he stays asleep. Hallelujah!
We are definitely the quieter half of the family. But Oliver likes to grunt and make loud noises. I am pretty certain that he frequently says, “Hey, there!” which I say a lot. And a couple of weeks ago, we spent a few days at mom’s because our ac was out. Lucy dropped and broke several pieces from my teeny little tea sets that I had saved until she was old enough. After I sent her upstairs, we went to check on her. I stood him next to her sobbing on the bed and he started fussing at her. I am pretty sure that he was saying the toddler equivalent of “You are a bad girl!”
Oliver’s affinity for birds, especially owls, continues to be quite strong. He also loves to read. Yet he is far from delicate with the books, unlike his sister. And he is very much interested in writing. And this morning I believe he recognized an “O” in a music video. At least, he screamed out “O!” So why not give him credit.
Oliver continues to love being double-fisted. He had a temper tantrum the other day when I flat out refused to give him my ice cream cone in addition to the one he already had in his other hand. We weren’t outside and he was bound to get it everywhere. Plus I wanted to eat it myself.
Apples are still this fruititerian’s favorite food. He would make his Great-grandma Merritt very proud. He eats his apples down to the very nub.
And at fourteen months, Oliver still has the very best hair in the family. We love this happy little guy.