Thirty Months
This month I became convinced that you are the most articulate two year old the world has ever known. Your father and I are constantly amazed by both your ability and your complete inability to verbalize your emotions and experiences. When you are conveying something specific, you are serious and almost always speak in complete sentences,
"Mommy, we are going to turn left at the light. We are in traffic. There are lots of cars everywhere and some are parked. Green means go."
And then five seconds later you could become an inarticulate puddle of goo because you've lost one of your cups and you want the "breen" one and not the blue one. And it's all you can do to simply blubber "Breen...breen...breen."
Because you have complete dominion and power over your surroundings, I often look up and realize you have abandoned me and I find you outside, wandering about the yard. Recently you gave me a heart attack by falling down the back stairs. You came up bruised and bloody but unscathed and you spent less time crying about the incident than I did.
You've also begun to exhibited control in other ways. Like holding food in your mouth and refusing to swallow until it becomes a saliva saturated, disgusting ball that once resembled food. This drives me INSANE. Seriously. Swallow the damn thing- what's the big deal? I used to think you did it just with new foods or food you didn't like but now you've begun to exhibit it with mundane items like oatmeal. Just to piss me off.
We've been half heartedly trying potty training but you seem to have no serious misgivings about peeing in your diaper... or the floor... or outside. But after recently purchasing a box of diapers at Costco for $40 (FORTY dollars !!!) I've decided this an effort definitely worthy of my energy. Right after our trip to Cancun and that shopping spree on Rodeo Drive, I am totally going to buy myself a sticker chart and commit to sitting around the bathroom with you for hours on end.
Just today I was bustling around the house, folding laundry and putting away dishes and getting ready to start dinner. I had walked away from you into the bedroom and I must have been talking to either you or the dogs and my tone communicated frustration. You came running into the bedroom and yanked on my pant leg.
"Mama, did you say Jesus?"
And that's when I knew that two hours of painful pushing- absolutely worth it.
Posted by Kaz at July 21, 2008 6:35 PM