Right Now, We Should ...

This is me when I was
significantly younger with Scout.

My last post inspired me to blog about my favorite things. It strikes me that someday I might not like what I enjoy now and it may be humorous to look back upon these thoughts.

I left my last post with my favorite animal being dogs. I like dogs today. Except for my G-Pa and Momo’s dog – Sula. She licks me too much. But from what I gather – she licks everyone too much. My

dog Scout is the best. And second is her sister Tawnie. Then I like Sula. But she is last on my list of favorite dogs. Sula, a shaggy mutt, is over hyper and likes to start fights with the other dogs. Tawnie and Scout are yellow dogs who let me pet them and lay on them all day. They are great dogs.

Yum! Tomatoes!

What else do I like?

I love going out to my Momo’s garden and eating all the red tomatoes and strawberries I can. I get so excited when we head out there. I can barely contain myself: it excites me so! It is quite strange though. I only like her tomatoes. Others are not the same.

Fun, fun, fun. Water and sand! I absolutely love to play in water and the sand! I like to demolish sandcastles and splash in the water. My favorite things! I really like to play golf and baseball now too. My G-Pa is teaching me to hit the ball off the tee and to golf. He is a really good teacher. I hope I can be as good as him someday!

Getting messy like this only
means I get to play in the
water to clean up!
It's a win-win!

Next I love to paint. I could be the next big thing. I love with my mother puts me into my high chair

and lets me paint with my hands. Making handprints is my favorite. It’s also fun to make footprints.

Sometimes, when I draw with my Aunt, she will trace my hands with crayon. It’s not quite the same but it is still fun.

I cannot ever see myself out growing this list. Who wouldn’t love water and sand for a lifetime? Or drawing? All are amazing to do. But what I love the most is who I get to do these activities with – my family.

I also like hats.

Why Can't I be a Garbage Truck?

I was at my Momo’s house today. And, every Friday morning, she takes me outside to watch this amazing garbage truck. It drives by and with such ease picks up the giant containers everyone places on the curb. I see my father pour what my mother calls “trash” into these bins. To me, it looks like fun. But every time I try to go through these bins under the sink, I get scolded.

The garbage truck gets to go through as much trash as he pleases! And makes loud noises doing so! So why can’t I? Why can’t I be a garbage truck?

This is the kind of truck I want to be!

I don’t see any reason why I cannot be. This is why I practice being a garbage truck almost daily with Momo. I lift my arms up, truck around and make big loud sounds to prepare. Or, maybe, I can own a
garbage truck. I already have lots of toy trucks and I keep really good care of them. I draw on them with my crayon to let them know they’re mine every day. But I want to own a big one with my name on it! Sigh. Someday.

The driver waves to me every Friday and he owns one. So there it is. If I cannot be a garbage truck – I will own one. Or a dog.

Dogs are my favorite.

Peanut Butt & Breakfast

Hello there. My name is Maxwell Byrum and you have found yourself on my blog. I will have reached two-years of age this December and, while my speech has processes to go, my mind is far into the

complexity of thought. I shall use this blog as my outlet for the words I cannot articulate yet.

So far, this morning is a great one. I woke up and called to mother, who is always ever so prompt in coming to get me in the morning. My bed has high walls that, today, I cannot climb, but I foresee these walls coming down in the future, with that being said, I need my mother or father’s assistance out of bed.

Breakfast was scrambled eggs and toast. I’m not sure if I like scrambled eggs today – just to be sure I threw them on the floor.

Mother has persistently been putting this slimy brown paste onto my toast, which I do not appreciate. For one, it’s sticky. Two, it smells. Three, my dog, Scout, seems to like it a little too much. Why is my mother feeding me dog food? Peanut Butt, I believe it’s called. Whatever it is ruins a perfectly good piece of toast.

After breakfast, I desperately want to read Chicka-Chicka-Boom-Boom. It is a riveting story. But before I know – I’m being whisked away to day care. I hope Owen doesn’t constantly criticize my actions as he did yesterday. He doesn’t understand how my mind works yet.