You are two years old, and now the time has come to stop talking in months. There's nothing more annoying than a parent who tells you that their child is 23 months, or 27 months. They're two. Maybe they're two and a half. They're not 27 months old unless you're at the pediatrician or some sort of government office.
So Happy Two Year Old Monthly Newsletter, Nate. Daddy and I are thrilled and stunned and blown away by everything you're doing these days. Sometimes we think "What's next? The big sex talk? Driving? Looking through your drawers to make sure you're not taking acid?" And then, deep down, I think "If we get to keep you long enough to go through those stressful times, I'll count all of my blessings." And in honor of this auspicious occasion, I will load this blog entry with many videos of your wonderfulness.
You give me so many reasons to brag, but I try to keep level-headed. We all know you're the best on the playground, but there's no reason to rub it in the other parent's faces. It's enough that they have to handle the burden of having such ungainly children.
You, though, are gainly has heck. You can, and will, climb anything you can find. You're a monster at the playground. At the one up the street, there's a ladder that stretches above Daddy's head, and then curves onto the play equipment. You'll happily climb it, slide down, and run around to climb it again over and over. Daddy got in trouble from another parent at the park last week who scolded him for letting you climb so high. Lucky for Daddy that you didn't fall and make him look foolish. Mama tries to let you go and explore as much as possible, since you've proven how coordinated you are, but she's not quite as free with you as Daddy is. Tough.
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Your big news is that you start school next week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays you'll head off with Daddy to school, and then I'll pick you up after lunch. I'm hoping like crazy that you run and play and learn and have the time of your life. Especially since it's going to mean that we have to eat roadkill for dinner and that you'll be wearing the hand-me-downs from the little girl up the street.
The talking has really snowballed in the last month, and now you're all about the two-word and three-word phrases. You sweetly say "Hi Mama!" and "Bye Daddy!" There's lots of "Mama's shoes" and "Daddy's cup" and "MY BOOK!" That last one started a few days ago, and you know it gets a rise out of me, so I'm trying like crazy to ignore it or turn your attention elsewhere. Daddy works two jobs, Mama works two part-time jobs, and that book DARN WELL ISN'T YOURS. It's ours. We bought it. We bought everything you're eating and wearing and doing. It's our book. You're lucky we share it with you. Quit with the "Mine" before I let you go off to school naked in the mornings.
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It's nice to have these little conversations with you now, and it's totally changed our relationship. You ask for Daddy during the day, and instead of just comforting you I can ask you "Where's Daddy?" and you get a smile on your face and say "Ummm...Daddy work!" and then we go happily about our business. If I ask you to throw something away, or close the door, you do it and then find me and proudly report "Throw!" or "Door!" and then I lavish you with the praise you deserve. We really are incredibly proud of you; you listen to us so well, and are so pleased with yourself afterwards. If I tell you "no touch!" or "go give this to Daddy" you almost always do as you're asked. If you ask for something and I say no, you almost always just happily move onto something else. I like to think my firmness and consistency has made you such a wonderful listener, but I think a lot of it is just your happy nature. Maybe we can share the credit?
You like to sing songs with me now, especially "Tinkle." You know about 3% of the words, but you mumble along for the parts you don't know and interject when you do. Your longest phrase is "Up above the..." and then you start back in at the end with "...high." Last night you sang "Sunshine" with me for the first time. I don't think you knew a single word, but it was very sweet to listen to you warble along with me.
You like to wear gloves. A lot. Cooking mitts, rubber dishwashing gloves, the standard variety, whatever.
Your manners totally amaze me. You say "thank you" without prompting at least 95% of of the time, and often in ways that surprise me - it's not only when you're handed something, but when someone helps you get up, or helps you with a toy that's stymied you. You just started saying "please (nee!)" independently, too - when you're asking for a snack or milk, it often comes out as "Nak? Nak? Nak? Nak?....Nee!" and when you're really on top of it "Nak? Nee! Nak! Nak! Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" Just a few days ago you started using "Scuse me Mama!" whenever you want my attention (even if I'm not occupied at the time). I don't know who's raising you, but they're doing an amazing job of things.
You and Daddy at the beach last weekend:
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You are so interested in other kids, and so in love with babies. Our friends came over with a newborn last week, and you sat quietly for over 10 minutes with the baby lounging in your lap. You're so gentle and quiet around other kids, and after you warm up you're happy to just follow them around and do whatever they're doing. You've never hit or bit or punched or grabbed a toy from anyone. You're such an outgoing, independent little man around adults, so it's a treat to see you so quiet and sweet with other kids. I hope that being around all of the other kids in school won't change you too much.
You seem to be a pretty giving little kid - you often forcibly share your snacks with us whether we want a cracker or not. You always share bumper with your Baby Doll, and pretend to have her go "night night" on the couch. You are starting to enjoy "pretend" games a lot which is a little tough on your unimaginative Mama. But I'm doing my best to keep up with you.
Your independence is showing through even more now that you can communicate better. If you're climbing a ladder or stairs and someone tries to help you, you're all irritated and "NO!" and pushing our hands off of your body. If you're going a little slow at clipping your own seatbelt, or closing the fridge, and I take over and do it for you there's hell to pay. Total tantrum. Crying and literally dancing around in anger. You get over it pretty quickly, but it's amazing how fast you can get furious!
We're throwing a little birthday party for you tonight with just a little group of family and friends, and having the neighbors over tomorrow for a happy hour celebration. I hope all of the fuss doesn't go to your head. There's already a big pile of presents from Grandma and Aunt Ann, and there's a few more from us hidden away. It's a good thing you're so cute or your Daddy might not let them into the house (you know how he is about clutter).
You and Daddy playing baseball in our wreck of a yard filled with construction debris. Daddy makes a pitcher's motion (complete with lifting up his leg) when he pitches you the ball - now you lift up your leg before you hit.
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Sometimes we just watch you and marvel at you. You're so perfectly formed, so adventurous, so happy, and so social. I can't think of anything we'd change about you, and sometimes we don't know what we did to get so lucky. You're the most fun thing we've ever done.
Happy birthday, Nate. We love you.
Mama
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