Life and Times of Cole Plaster

Cole has a few favorite words these days - no, go, car, poop. He’s saying lots of words, but these are the ones we hear the most frequently. Cole is also really loving his books. I’m going to buy him a bunch of books this weekend - not for his benefit - for mine. I have several of his books memorized, and they haunt me as I’m trying to go to sleep. His current favorites are: Goodnight Moon, Put Me in the Zoo, There’s a Wocket in my Pocket and Hop on Pop.

Cole kicking on the steps in Aunt Jillian’s pool. He’s probably not going to learn to swim this summer, but he is very comfortable and happy in the water (without floaties), even when we dunk him.

Cole makes a funny face. He does whatever he can to get attention.

Cole’s parents attend the Houssels’ party in Leucadia, CA.

Cole visits the automotive museum in Balboa Park. We thought he’d say “car” more, but maybe he only likes moving cars.

We tried teaching Cole how to make trains in the sand, but he preferred knocking them down. What a rebel.

At Mission Beach.

Taking a break on the blanket.

Testing out the water. It’s cold! Can’t wait to take him to Destin where I won’t freeze swimming in the ocean.

Cole’s newfound friends at the playground play “tickle, tickle.”

Cole takes his first amusement park ride. He threw a tantrum when Brian took him out of the boat. We then tried riding on the Merry Go Round, and he threw a tantrum just so we’d get him off.

Cole occupied himself for 30 minutes by dumping his Cheerios into various pots and bowls. It was great to get a break from reading the same book over and over.

Cole hams it up for the camera. I can predict that this kid will not have any self-esteem issues.

Cole’s grandfather in Meridian, Bob Bresnahan, a.k.a. Pop turns 60 years old today. Cole wishes him a happy birthday and wishes he could be there to eat some birthday cake with Pop, Madi and all of the dogs.

Cole and Pop during Cole’s visit to Meridian over Memorial Day.

Cole is getting wilder by the day. While in L.A. last weekend, we learned that Cole no longer likes being good at restaurants, and he definitely doesn’t want to sit in a high chair. We can usually pacify him for a few minutes, often with food or a fork, and then one of us has to take him outside and let him do his thing.

Words spoken: Maggie, Gigi, Wendy, belt, thank you, all gone, more, poop, pee pee, apple and others that I can’t remember at the moment. I swear he said “row, row, row” when he heard the Row Your Boat song tonight. He also knows where his head, hair, eyes, nose, ears and belly is.
Cole hides behind the door of a house near Venice Beach that may one day be the site of a three-story condo project.

Cole takes a ride in a suitcase. For Cole, it’s about the little things.

Standing still for a picture above the beach in Santa Monica.

Squirming for Mommy’s picture.

Being good for Daddy’s picture. Go figure.

Cole hasn’t met a dog he doesn’t like.

Grandpa Richard, Great Grandpa Jack, Cole and Brian after eating a fabulous lunch at Junior’s. Cole had matzah ball soup and lots of cookies.

Four generations all together. Cole can’t take his eyes off Nana Wendy.