Twenty One and Counting

Pricey Poo-

You are 21 months old.  I cannot believe that in 3 months, you will be two years old.  You have been giving us a glimpse into what we may have in store for the terrible twos.  And all I can say is, "God help us!"  I do love you, lots and lots and lots, but I do not like the whining, fake crying, screaming and head hitting.  I do not like when you throw yourself on the ground because it's time to come inside and you want to stay outside.  It's very hard for me to ignore you when you behave like this because it makes my ears bleed it's kind of embarrassing when you do it in public.  I hope that this is just temporary.

Luckily for all of us, you spend most of your time happy and content.  You are such a crack up. You are getting more words and FINALLY starting to make connections between the words you hear and the things you see.  You are slightly obsessed with your penis...  it concerns me, but your father assures me this normal for a guy.  You love to pull up our shirts and give us raspberries. You think it's as funny as we do and you laugh and laugh, now if you could only figure out an appropriate time to do it, instead of say, when we are out to dinner at a restaurant...

Oh yeah, you have a new addiction to trains.  You say "choo-choo" All. The. Time.  You take your train everywhere, you love trains.  It's really cute and it came out of nowhere.  I think I know what your birthday theme is going to be...

You've been in swim lessons for a month.   You like the water, but go straight as a board when you get in the pool.  You are so busy watching everyone else (you are definitely my son), you forget to do what you're supposed to- you don't kick, you don't splash.  You just look around and smile, until I try to get you to kick, float, splash.  Then you get mad. (And when I see my face in the pic below, I no longer really wonder why people don't approach me- my concentration face is awfully sour puss).

Except for the toddler tantrums, you really are fun.  we have a good time and you keep me smiling and on my toes.  You've also figured out that standing on your toes gives you just enough height to grab things off the kitchen counter.  Luckily, I remember to keep the knives pushed back, but I forgot to move the sour cream the other night.  And you grabbed the container and left a trail of it throughout the house.  Isabelle LOVED you for that, your daddy wouldn't let me take a picture- but it was hysterical.

You are a sweet, precious boy.  You are growing up so fast. And I love you more than I ever knew I could.

-Momma