Ostrich

I am on my computer often. Regularly. Ok, all the time. More than I would like to be sometimes. I check my email constantly, both accounts: personal and business. I play with pictures on photoshop. (If I learn, even a kernel of information that program has to offer I will consider myself photoshop proficient.) I write papers all the time for school, and I currently spend a lot of my time writing my feelings and recording my family's memories for the entire world to see.(The blog. Who knew I would love this thing as much as I do. I especially love the comments part. I check them like I do email. So leave some. Open a google account and leave me some love! Please! I really want to know who has stopped by.)

When Gunnar was born, I intended to only be on the computer when he was napping or down for the night, and that I would only check email while he was eating or watching a few minutes of toons. (I check often to see if my tutoring schedule has changed or if Jaren has sent me a romantic email shout-out.) To state a popular cliche, "The road to hell is lined with good intentions." Gunnar has, unfortunately, seen me on my computer too often. I have modeled computer behavior. (I am not sure what else to call it. Any ideas?) Modeled it so much that a couple of days ago, he came down stairs after I got him out of bed, went straight to his "laptop" and said, "Nunnie (what he calls himself, closest thing to "Gunnie" he can articulate right now), a check mail Mom." He then proceeded to flip the top on his computer and "check" for new mail.

Notice Bobby, in the bucket. That's how Gunnar carried him down stairs that morning. Oh, Bobby. He's actually really good when it comes to computers too. He's a real computer guru when you get right down to it.

When I am on my computer now he is on his. (Gunnar, not Bobby.) Sometimes we sit side by side allowing the screens to suck us in. Gunnar's computer is just as educational as mine. It teaches him letters, numbers, and their sounds. When he is on the letters it shows him a picture and says the word for the picture and the sound for the letter. O on Gunnar's computer stands for Ostrich.

This is how he says Ostrich.

WARNING: YOU MIGHT PEE YOUR PANTS WATCHING THIS!

PARENTAL ADVISORY: THIS IS NOT G RATED. IT'S BARELY PG-13.

MUTE THE MUSIC AT THE BOTTOM BEFORE YOU CLICK PLAY! YOU DON'T WANT TO MISS THIS!!

Wasn't the last b****, so funny; something you would see on a Will Ferral sketch or something? Tell me I am not the only one to think this is hysterical. Is this only funny to me? Oh, maybe you are one of the good moms out there that does't feed her kids pizza and chips for breakfast. Are you saying, "tsk, tsk...that woman needs help raising her child."? Well, I promise you all, Jaren and I did not teach him that word! Like we go around the house modeling that. "Get me my dinner b****." "No! Do it yourself b****! I'm not your b****" I'm so sure. Come on. LOVE IS SPOKEN here, alright?

To Gunnar's grandparents: please don't be disappointed that I laugh hysterically when I watch your wholesome grandson son say this, or when I ask Gunnar to say Ostrich just to perk me up. Tomorrow we will go to speech therapy. Tomorrow I will teach him how to say OStrich, but today, I have to laugh my a** off!