First of all, let me just say that Spring Break left me all discombobulated! I forgot to post your update, then I missed 10 on 10. Who knows what else I forgot last week?!
Of course, my brain could just be a little fuzzy considering the mental distress I've been experiencing. Because you see, in the past month, my sweet and tender-hearted little man woke up and discovered he was TWO! It was as if someone walked into a room in your brain, found the switch labeled "Age: two" or "Terrible Twos" or maybe even "Agent Destroy" and flipped it to the on position. It's been a crazy few weeks.
Who, me? Two?
You've started testing the waters to see just how much and how far you can go. You are running away, running into the street, hitting, pushing, throwing things, and basically doing the opposite of whatever it is we happen to say. I watch as you run up to Maddie, steal something from her, and run away, face in a large, wild smile, legs pumping just as fast as they can carry you away.
Taking you places has become somewhat of a chore. I look down for three seconds at a park and you are off and running down a path, 50 yards away. I tell you to be kind to your sister and catch you whack her over the head with a large stick. You walk up to kids twice your size and shove them over in the sandbox. Oh, yes. You do.
But in just a few short weeks, you've also learned a great deal about consequences. After spending a few days (literally) in time out after time out, you learned to stop. At some point when I yelled out "STOP!" you started just plopping down on your bum, wherever you happened to be. If at first you disobey, I will yell out "Uh-Oh, bad decision," and you'll slowly make your way back to my side. You understand that obedience equals playtime and pleased Mama and disobedience means uh-oh and time out.
It's also as if you woke up in the past month! All of the sudden, you stay up later and wake up earlier. My late sleeper is now rising before 6 a few times a week! Sometimes when we put you in your crib at night you will stay up for a while, calling to us, singing, or even running laps around your crib. One day during nap you wanted to "sleep" with your hammer. Bad idea.
But mixed in with the sleep shenanigans have been a few blessed days where you woke early from a nap and spent the next hour (or two!) sleeping blissfully in the crook of my arm. It is such an unexpected joy to find you awake but still tired, crabby and cuddly, and carry you back to my bed where you snuggle in tight, place your arm around my neck, and fall back asleep within minutes. During those snuggle naps, you will awake with a start, scan the room, find my face with your gaze and your hand, then drift back to sleep. Pure Mama joy.
Luckily for us, you've maintained your sweet demeanor and affable personality. You are helping out more and more around the house, taking joy in little tasks like clearing your plate or picking up toys. You are great at following directions!
You are using more and more words each week (many of which are indistinguishable to anyone but me), even combining three words for extra emphasis, or when you really, really want something. "Tea, Mama, peee (please)!" "More, Mama, peee!" "C'mon, Mama. Come with me!" Just today you really surprised me when you walked past your dirty diaper, wrapped up and ready for the trash, and remarked to no one in particular, "stinky poo-poo." You call lots of things "poo-poo," and Susan tells me get used to it. Potty talk seems to be a certain second language for you Y chromosome types.
Another manner of language in which you are especially interested is food. Anytime we drive by a McDonalds, Burger King or In-and-Out, you say "BURGER!" You can recognize a "cookie" from yards away. "Cake," "cocoa," "popcorn," the list goes on and on. I find it hilarious that you've rarely been to fast food (and don't even really eat it when we go), but can recognize the branding.
You continue to love tools, tractors, motorcycles, fire trucks and trains. There are few phrases that elicit the volume and expression that "All aboard!" brings out in you. The construction going on behind our house is of constant interest and excitement.
You and Maddie are at times two peas in a pod, at others as different as different can be. You are either hot or cold, loving your sister and wanting more of her or wanting nothing to do with her. Poor Maddie; I guess she's getting an early lesson in the mystery of male emotions. You are either effusive in kisses and affection or hold back with ferocity. "NO!" you scream when she attempts to hold your hand. But when you wake up and she is still napping, you call out sweetly for your Mah-mah or Mah-mee, hold up your hands like "Where did she go?" and pine for her until she finally comes out of her room. When it is time to pick her up from preschool and I ask if you're ready to go get sissy, you jump up from whatever activity you're engaged in and beeline for the car.
You've started to notice things like letters (and start singing the alphabet song, though it sounds more like ah-ee-ah-ee-oo-ee-ah) and families (shouting out "Mama!" "Dada!" and "Baby!" to the ducks at the park). You love to sing songs and ask for specific ones before bed, nodding or shaking your head as we decipher your requests. "Tee-too, tee-too tee-toh tar" (Twinkle, twinkle little star) is your favorite at the moment.
Up until this week, anytime I would ask if you are my little baby, you would nod and rest your head on my shoulder for a snuggle. Just this week I asked and you shook your head no. When I asked, "Are you Mama's big boy?," you nodded. A little part of me cried inside. Then you wriggled out of my arms, climbed on a high bench, and jumped off, landing squarely on your own two feet. You laughed and trotted off, my baby on his way to becoming a boy. I couldn't help but smile.
Love you, my big, big boy!