Dear Grandpa Frank and Judy

Hi Grandpa Frank. Hi Judy.

I can call you that, right? You see, I'm just so busy that I can't take the time to add Grandma to your name. And now when I talk about you people ask my mom if that is her dad's "special friend" and she gets flustered and has to tell them no. I think its funny.

Thank you for coming from 'acago' (Chicago) in your car - no motocyca cause iss loud - and playing with me this weekend. I really liked when you read me the same book about firetrucks 347 times.

Did you know I like firetrucks? And firetruck guys? I was a firefighter for Halloween - Happy Twricker Twreat! - here, let me get dressed up for you again. Oh No! Kitty's on fire! I hafta go to da stashun!

Grandpa Frank, I call my mom a worm now. I think its funny; she just gives me a look. I never knew about tickle worms and how they always think it's Tickle Time. Now I know. And no, still not time. Also, the candies were yummy. I can't believe, though, that you actually made me work for them by telling you the color. I'll tell you whatever you want if you've got candy.

Judy, thanks for playing trains with me a lot this weekend - I think its fun to make trains wreck. I was so happy to see you at my school on Friday that I actually ran right past my mom and straight to you! Thanks for sitting in the backseat of Daddy's truck with me when we went shopping, I love having company.

I miss you guys already. Love, Elliot

A Holy Update

In addition to still spouting "Holy Crap" at things, he now also uses Holy Cow and Holy God. Just thought I'd let you know.

Can I Get a "Holy Crap" Over Here?

My parents sent Elliot a box full of Halloween candy and other goodies and as Elliot opened it up and stared in awe, Fred came over his shoulder commenting "Holy crap! That's a lot of candy!"

Elliot sort of nodded and said "Hodee crap!"

(Insert image of Fred and I laughing so hard we're shaking but trying so desperately hard to not let Elliot know it was funny.)

We ignored it and hoped it would go away.

1. Halloween Day. We head over to Stacey's house to trick-or-treat and as we're walking up to the porch filled with pumpkins and gourds he yells "Hodee crap! Looka da pumpkins!"

2. Halloween Night. We're driving to Tecumseh and pass the train tracks outside of Syracuse when Elliot looks over and sees the trains. "TWO trains?!! Hodee crap!"

3. This Morning. Driving into downtown on our way to daycare we pass a building that's been under construction for the last few weeks. "Mommy look! Hodee crap a bucket truck!"

So, yeah, on one hand, Daddy taught him a not-very-pleasant phrase. On the other hand, he uses it in the right context flawlessly. And shouldn't that be commended?

Swine Flu, I OWN You.

The President declares some kind of disaster regarding H1N1 and my response to Fred was "Yeah, and what's that got to do with me? I have it!" Turns out I won't be getting any kind of stimulus check, just the knowledge that the Pres cares about my health. Kind of.

Well, Pres, I don't really think its an epidemic. Sure, people die from it. People die crossing the street too and THAT is an epidemic if you've ever driven downtown on a Husker game day. In fact, if given the choice in the future, I will hands-down take H1N1 over any of the other flu viruses.

A virus that just makes you want to sleep? Sign. Me. Up.

Only next time maybe Fred won't leave me at home with a sick two year old all day long. Internets, just between you and me, I'm going to tell you a little secret. I have NO earthly idea what Elliot did all day on Thursday - I was so out of it. Sure, I cracked an eye now and then and craned my neck to get a general location on the kid. But I really didn't do much more than that. I'm guessing I made him lunch? Surely I fed him...

I do know I did the best I could considering the piggies inside me were in full swing of wanting me to sleep, sleep sleep. And I know that because he's still alive and begging me to watch him play trains (more on that some other day).

So here I am, almost a week later and doing good. A friend asked me if the pigs are out of my body yet. My response? Only the one that eats Oreos by the handful is left, so yeah, I guess.

Monday Evening Chuckle

For those of you not around Elliot, he does this great "oooueehhh" noise whenever he's excited - kind of that sucking-air-in noise you make when something takes you off guard. You'll need to know that to make this funnier.

A & E: (Sitting on couch. A Disney World commercial comes on.)
E: Oooueehhh!
A: What is that?
E: Mikey Mouse House. Castle.
A: You're right. We're going to go there, huh?
E: Oooueehhh! Yessssss. On airplane?
A: Yes, on an airplane.
E: Oooueehhh! In a little bit?
A: It's going to be a while.
E: Yeah, a while.
A: Like when its Daddy's birthday.
E: Oooueehhh! Daddy hasa berfday?!

- - - - 5 Minutes Later - - - -

Elliot is standing on the ottoman singing Happy Birthday to Fred.

Baby Steps: A Pumpkin Patch Story

I have never been in a pumpkin patch. (That I'm aware of... mom, correct me if I'm wrong.) Last year, I was excited to go and as most of you know - we went to the farm but didn't get to the patch.

We worked our our plan for this year. Within minutes of getting out of the truck we were going to be ON that hay rack headed directly to the pumpkin patch. Bypass the silly buildings, skip the goats and chickens - it's Pumpkin or Bust, Baby!

Around 6:20pm last night, we pulled into Roca Berry Farm - home to strawberries in the spring and pumpkins in the fall - and climbed out of the truck and into the muddy abyss. Handed over our tickets and were informed that the LAST hay rack was going out soon so we smirked in a heh, try to screw us over this year, Roca way and piled onto the trailer.

Pulls out and off we go.
And we keep going.

I, trying not to panic, think - oh, I bet its a type of rotation where they don't want everyone to constantly be in one particular patch. Yes, uh-huh.

But we kept going. And going.
And passing glorious pumpkins along the way.
Then we turned around. What?
It's too muddy for people to be in the patches.

In a tiny moment of despair I looked out to see the baby pumpkins in the patch stating for anyone listening to hear me say "But those are perfectly sized for Elliot!" There was no stopping this hay rack. Chug, chug, chug - the tractor pulled us right back to where we started.

Then Mr. I-Like-To-Ruin-Your-Day jumped off the tractor and informed us that they had essentially just closed because the sun set.

The Seckman's left without actually getting into a pumpkin patch.
The Seckman's left without a pumpkin.

Baby steps, people.

Next year, Roca. Next year you are MINE.
And I will not be leaving without a pumpkin.