The Grandparents Poulsen

Tonight I had dinner at Grandpa and Grandma Poulsen's house.  I didn't actually get dinner.  Mamasita did.  I put my hands in her rice.  That's as close as I got to the food.  But it smelled in-CREDIBLE!  I love it there.  Me and my mommy go once a week rain or shine.  Or snow.  It's pretty cool at their house.  I always get to be the center of attention.  Wait.  I'm the center of attention pretty much wherever I go.  But it just feels good to have all those baby-love-vibes floating around.  And their house has awesome vibes.
They have The Big Black Dog.  Him's name is Thor.  Him's big but I'm not a-scared of him.  I'm a brave boy.  Him comes in and out of the house and everytime him comes in- him gives me a once over. A lot of sniffing.  Sometimes some slobber. And then a big wet kiss!  Him and I have a lot in common.  That's my routine when I meet people too. 
Gramps cooks the dinner.  (and the dessert...mom's favorite part.)  He's a funny cook.  He dances around and plays fun songs and waves his hands in the air.  Is that what I'm supposed to be doing?  It cracks me up.  When I get bored he carries me over to The Fridge.  It's fascinating.  There's so much... information... to... take in.  I can stare at it for minutes on end.  And he'll patiently hold me there until I'm through.  It's a lux life.  My favorite thing is he calls me "Babou."  I like being his Babou.  Grandpa can always calm me down.  I feel real safe with him.
Grandma Sheri got a video camera for Christmas so guess who got to star in a full length feature film? ME!  I can see it now- Coming to theaters this January KOLER SCHMOLER-Part I.  I'm going to be big.  And you thought I couldn't grow anymore.  Pishaw.  Grandma Sheri makes me feel real special.  She is always mugging on me and kissing my cheeks.  And she wonders why they get chapped.  My lands.  She's good at encouraging me to try new things.  Tonight we banged our hands on the counter top for a SOLID five minutes.  It was a hoot.  A hoot I tell ya. 
I like it when we go there.  I'm just so relaxed.  It's like a mini-vacation.  I think my mom feels that way too. 

I found a new favorite thing to play with...


I love them and I bring them everywhere I go.  They are pink and wiggly and i just lub dem.  My toes! Now,   I don't like every one's toesies... just mine.  I'm so glad I figured out they were there.  Sometimes I lay on my back, grab my feet, and forget to let go, and I tumble from side to side. It makes my mom laugh.  I like making her laugh.

Not no way. Not no how.

Guess what?  I don't like going to bed anymore.  I don't like my crib.  I don't like my pajamas.  I don't like my blankets.  I don't like how it gets dark.  I don't like lullabies.  I don't like being by myself.  I don't like being rocked.  I don't like being sung to.  I don't like bedtime prayers.  I don't like a bedtime story.  I don't even like my bath.  I don't like going to bed.

And nothing you say is going to change my mind.

Grandma's Weekend

Last weekend Grammy Tammy came to stay with me.  With all this Christmas hubbub I haven't had the chance to update my blog about it.  So, without further ado...
Grandma came on a Friday and was able to stay clear until Sunday.  She works for a big company so I was really happy she could take off early on Friday and come be with me.  She really knew how to crack me up.  I tell ya.  Every one's got a different gimmick for trying to make me laugh.  Hers was to crawl up and get my piggies.  I'd be sitting on my dad's lap and she'd crawl from across the room and come bite on my toes!  I was in hysterics.  My mom has tried to make me laugh that way since... but let the truth be told... mom is good at a lot of things and making me laugh is NOT one of them. 
Grandma brought me a Christmas present (tis the season) AND let me open it!  She got me a Boise State sleeper.  I la-HOVE it!  It is so warm.  And blue is totally my color.  Brings out my eyes.  Grandma and Tracy are big BSU fans and now I can be too!  I just have to convince ma and pops to get some gash dern ESPN round here.  I've never heard of SportsCenter hurting a baby.  I'm pretty big and I'm hoping I can play football there.  On a scholarship.  Go where my fore bearers have gone.  Daddy says if I eat all my vegetables.  I think that's a line.
 Grandma T also brought full body bib for me.  It's unlike anything I have ever seen.  Imagine a bib.  Now imagine it going clear down to my feet.  Now imagine it fastening behind my legs.  It's like coveralls!  It's really going to allow me to get my slop on. 
We spent some quality time reading.  Grandma Tammy is a good reader.  She uses silly voices and lots of expression. And that's something I look for when interviewing readers.  She read me "There's a Wocket in My Pocket."  Man, I love that book. I could hear it a million more times.
To sum it up in one word.... fanTAStic!
Thanks for coming Grandma.  We all love you very much.

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My Dear Old D-A-D.

I know you other babies out there think you have a "great dad."  I bet you have lots of "fun" and he makes you "laugh" and he's "nice." But your dad ain't got nothing on my dear old D-A-D.  (Yup!  5 months old and I can spell Dad.  I can publish a whole blog... I better be able to spell dad!)
I love spending time with my pops.  He does things mom never does!  Like hang me upside down, bite my ears, hold me by my ankles, swing me in circles, and go fast in the stroller.  He makes mom look- dare I say-  boring.  (No offense, Mom.)  He sometimes lets me watch Planet Earth with him.  Mom doesn't like me watching TV... she says there's "better things to do with your time."  But, sometimes I just want to veg.  All this rolling over and cuddling and drooling and playing wears a kid out! 

Dad is really great at calming me down and helping me relax.  Which is just what I need after some of these days I've been having.  He's got the perfect shoulder for snuggling.  I mean perfect.  It's broad and firm.  And I know he purposely sits where I'll have a good view of outside. He'll rub my back for as long as it takes for me to fall asleep.  Mom just puts me in the crib and deserts me! But, Dad.  Dad knows how to do it right.  I'm a snuggler, what can I say. 

I also my Daddio reading to me.  He picks real good manly books.  He goes for the variety and he'll read me ones about a steamroller or dinosaurs or a Lorax.  None of this Sally Makes a Friend bologna mom serves up.  Dad will sit in our chair in my room and read 6 or 7 books and let me play with all the pages.  He doesn't care if they get wrinkled. 
When dad gives me a bath I sometimes squawk because he really gets me clean.  I gotta get one good GOOD scrub down a week.  I like getting in and soaking... and Dad gets down to bizniz.  He's always telling me my belly button is where the Indians shot me.  What a clown he is. 
After bath he likes to play for a little while longer.  (Another lesson mom ought to pick up on.)   I think that's real special that he doesn't put me to bed right away.  I love playing peek-a-boo with him.  Who named that game?  I don't get the title.  But, oh!, I love playing peek-a-boo with him.  He covers my face with a blanket and pulls it off reeeeeeeaaaaaaal slow.  And yells PEEK-A-BOO!  I can't stop smiling!  I love it!  I want him to do it over and over again.  So he does.  Sometimes I pull the blanket off myself.  I like that too.
I like when he hauls me around over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  Giggles galore.  I like when he shoots me up over his head and calls me "Super Koler." 
He's freakin' awesome.

Bed Time Shmed Time

Tonight my mom tried putting me to bed at 8 o'clock.  Yeah.  That's my quote-unquote bed time.  I saw it coming a mile away.  She capped me off for the night and had the lights all low.  Then she hummed while filling up the tubber.  I admit I do like taking that hot soak at night.  And then mom puts really luscious Burt Bee's Baby Bee lotion on me.  Mmmmmmm.  It smells SO good!  I get to put on my warm fleece jammers with feet built in.  My mom snuggles me.  This is the life. 

But then the woman lays me in my crib and walks out.  That, I would not stand for.  I did the only thing that came to my mind.  I screamed.  I'm not exactly sure how long I screamed because I don't know how to tell time yet- but it seemed like a while.  My mom came in and held my hand.  Held my hand?  What's that supposed to do?  Give me a hint that you like me or something?  C'mon we're not in junior high here- I'm your baby!  But it was nice to see her.  She always makes me smile... even when she does something off the wall like holding my hand.  I sorta slipped into a trance.  My mom was humming and I felt myself dozing off.  The next thing I knew, mom was gone!  I was alone!  AGHHHHHHHH!  SCREAM!  WHERE ARE YOU MOM!  Can I tell you I was shocked by how long it took her to respond to my cries?  Shocked.  When she finally came in she tried the old hand-holding again.  I wasn't falling for that again.  I gave her my best, loudest, longest, cries. I even managed some tears.  She caved and picked me up.  Hehehehe.  She let me nurse.  That always calms me down.  But, as a little payback for letting me scream so long... I did a big bambam... in my diaper.  Well it was supposed to stay in my diaper.  But I got lucky and it went out of my diaper, through my onesie, and onto my dinosaur pajamas.  More mess equals more time out of the crib, yes! I got all cleaned up.  All fresh.  And then she laid me down again!  I was certain that being all clean would mean we could play!  I cried some more.  Freedom of speech, right?  After a real long stretch of crying she came in.  She whispered, "It's 10:45 little buddy.  Go to sleep."  Did she think those were the magic words or something?  Pa-lease.  Just because you designate a time to mean bed time doesn't mean it is.  She walked me around my room for a bit.  For a long bit.  Sang some Neil Young.  I like when she sings Neil Young's Harvest Moon.  She hums all the parts where there aren't any words.  It's nice.  Soothing. She'll sway too.  I fell asleep on her shoulder. 

Dumdadum Dadum Dum Da Dum

Dumdadum Dadum Dum Da Dum

Because I'm still in love with you

I wanna see you dance again

Because I'm still in love with you

On this Harvest Moon....

How Doya Like Dem Apples?

Do you like my new header or what?  Inspiration was from Aunt Teener Weiner.  Who was inspired by Stephen Colbert.  Who mom thinks is a total hunk.  Secretly I think I was named after him.  She tells me that my Daddio picked my name.  And he wanted it spelled with a "K" so him and I could have matching initials.  Mom digs the fact that Kole means "Victory for the People."  I like that too.  But I don't think there is any coincidence between my mom's fondness of Stephen Colbert and my name.  I mean if I was just called Kole- I wouldn't think twice about it.  And there are a TON of nicknames her and my dad come up with.  There are so many I don't even register half of them as names for me.  But she calls me KoleBear the most.  Kolebear.  Colbert.  Are you following? We're all on the same page right?  But who's cuter?

Profiling

Maybe I'm just too young to understand this but hear me out.  People say "Don't judge a book by it's cover."  I've got tons of books and my mom judges them by their covers all the time.  She'll look for one with  bright, vivid colors that I'll like.  So on that very basic level I understand.  But something is telling me this phrase is deeper.  I think it relates to people.  And how some people label or judge other people.. by their "covers."  Whoa.  I'm deep for 4 months old.  I know.  And may I say- that I often get judged by my cover.  People take one look at me and say, "Oh he's a big baby!"  Or occasionally, "What a chubber!"  And sometimes, "Oh he must weigh a ton!  Just look at those cheeks!"

 I am rotund.  This I know.  This I love.  This I am proud of. 

But peeps.  There is more to me than a bulldog face, saddle bags, and kankles.  I am a human being.  With many magnificent (and often overlooked) qualities.  So for those of you who haven't yet given me the second glance, who have simply labeled me as "Chubby"  I present myself to you.

I have a dimple on my left cheek that really comes out when you pretend to bite my chin.

I love being talked to in a really sugary, high voice.  My mom doesn't do that enough slash at all.
I throw up if I sit in my Bumbo for more than 3 or 4 minutes.
I like to wake up slow.  No games.  No tickling.  Just snuggles and whispers for a good 15 minutes.
My favorite songs are Jingle Bells and The Steelers Super Bowl Song.
I like my dad to hang me upside down. My mom doesn't do it good because she's too careful and slow.
I am sensitive.  Meaning I have a keen sense of when I am being mocked or made fun of and I will cry.
I am very attached to my mother.  I like to have her in my sights at all times.
I take 4 naps a day.  And that's on average.  I'm a good sleeper.  And I enjoy sleep.
I am a happy baby.

So, yes, I am chubby.  I'm beautifully big.  But I am also dynamic.  I have layers. There is lots of me to love both physically and personally or emothionally.  Feel free to indulge me both ways.

My Phobia

There's something you should know about me.  I don't like cameras.  I get that from Pop Pop Poulsen.  I'll be smiling or giggling or making funny sounds and if you whip a camera out I promise to immediately freeze up.  It doesn't matter what kind of camera it is either.  Your regular point and shoot, a fancy Canon, a video camera, even your camera phone.  I don't like them.  I guess my philosophy is enjoy life as it is happening.  Why do you have to take a picture, then look at it on the camera, and say how cute I look?  I'm right in front of you.  Skip the camera work and just say how cute I am.  Or you can take your camera out and see my pa-pa-pa-poker face pa-pa-poker face.

If My Mom Read This...

I want you to know:

1.  On the Night You Were Born is YOUR favorite book.  Not mine.  MY favorite book is There's a Wocket in My Pocket. Try to keep up.
2.  My bath is still a little too hot.  I like being pick when I get out.  Not red.

3.  I'm ready to sit at the table and eat with you and dad.

4.  If it's too small- it's too small.  Don't make me wear it "one more time."  It hurts my arm pitters.
5.  I think you are beautiful, smart, creative, and entertaining.  You are one great mom.  I love you.

One Man Show

Last night I had a sleep over at Gwamma Gingew's house.  I got to stay up until 11:30.  My dad would have fa-lipped!  Luckily, I was on mom patrol and she's a cinch. All I had to do was be super snuggly.  Works every time.  I slept for like an hour and then pretended to cry so she would let me sleep in bed with her.  You see, sleep is a real pressure point for ma mere.  An ounce of noise and she is up.  Hehehehe.  I didn't even have to work up a good cry.  Just a little whining and I was in the big bed.  Oh yes. Oh yes.  Victory is mine.  My mom acts all tough with this "Work it out yourself" and "cry if you have to" mumbo jumbo.  But don't let her fool you.  She's such a softie.  I know just what to do to make her cave.  Call me a genius because I am. 

My mom (among others) has been saying that I am incredible because I can roll over now.  I've been able to roll over for about a month but I was limiting my performances.  I believe in giving fans what they want but I refuse to let them run my life.  Plus, I don't think you people understand just how hard it is to roll 22 pounds from one side to another. Maybe to you that doesn't sound like a lot but I'M JUST A BABY for crying out loud.  And a chubby one.  (But mom is always pounding it into my head everyday- "Big Is Beautiful"  and "Weight is just a number."  Where does she read this stuff?)  I digress.  Now that some of the hype has died down about me rolling over I do it all the time.  I love it!  I flip over and lift my head up as high as it goes and hold it as long as I can and... I wait for an applause.  Then I lay back down and pretend I'm in pain so mommy will put me on my back and I can start again!  The trick to rolling over is turning your head.  It's all in the head.  Tuesday mom tallied 12 times I rolled over.  Wednesday I did it 16 times!  And toady I've done 3.  I'm tired from my sleep over.