Twenty-Six Months
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that I've fallen in love with you all over again this month. This month you seemed to be able, in some moments, to get past your own irrational needs and grasp towards reason. I can't go outside right this very minute because I have to eat lunch first? "Otay, mommy!" you respond, climbing into your highchair and fastening your own bib. Instead of dissolving into a puddle of tantrum when Dad or I don't understand what you need, you patiently drag us over to assess the situation. See- I threw my matchbox cars behind the toybox- doesn't that suck? Can you help me out here?
This is not to say that you are not still REALLY difficult. This is because you are two. It's like saying because you are a dog, you have a tail. One necessarily follows the other. If A, then B. Logic 101. I took that in college. I think I got a D, but hey. At least I remember some of it.
I'm sure every parent thinks their child is brilliant, and in most case they are completely biased. But seriously, I think you are brilliant. You pour over your books, have mastered all your puzzles and talk in complete sentences most of the time. You are the most CHEERFUL toddler I have ever seen and you're so god damn cordial it's embarrassing. Please, thank you and excuse me come out of your mouth as often as " I need" and "no." The conversations you have with the grocery clerk, the people in line at the post office, the waitress, are more complex than mine. When we go places where there is a decent amount of walking involved, you can be trusted to follow us, closely, cheerfully and without complaint, chattering the entire time as if you're narrating your own personal movie. You're incredibly dramatic these days and every movement, every word is infused with excitement.
I feel a little sad because you seem to have reached a point where you almost prefer playing by yourself. I'll realize it's been nearly an hour since I saw you last and I look around to find you absorbed with your toys, making the pirates take over the parking garage or loading your cars into the dishwasher basket. The other day I found you sitting in the bathtub, fully clothed, reading your bath books and lining up your toys on the ledge of the tub.
You have consented to return to eating some normal foods, including blueberries. The other day you even tried a bite of chili, which was totally weird. You gave me this perplexed look and a few seconds later said, "Hot, mommy, hot!" (Don't worry. It was mild and you were totally exaggerating). I've been having you sit up on the counter and help me bake occasionally which you absolutely adore. You get to lick beaters and eat balls of pie dough and are surprisingly good about not making a total disaster of whatever we're attempting to create.
You've also, sadly, become a little self conscious. We were at Costco the other day waiting in line and a girl came up to us to pre scan our cart. You turned to Daddy, crinkled up your nose and smiling said "Cute, Daddy, cute!" Your bashfulness continued when I hauled you out of the cart and you realized the cashier was also a young woman and you ducked your head and continued to whisper about how cute she was, shooting her glances and trying to catch her eye so you could say hello. I was a little worried a few days later, when I was changing you and you kept on and on about how cute your babysitter, Jesse was. But then earlier this week we were in line at Costco again and you kept trying to pin part of the blueberry wrapper to my shirt.
"You're so cute, Mama!" you said.
Well, that's more like it.
Take a look at the following article. I get sick of people telling me how great Airborne is. Can't we just accept that something works because we think it does? And yes, vitamins can help your immune system fight off sickness. What a novel idea!