Back To Me

My child's injuries, the week in review

Tuesday, 11:53 a.m. --Theo got his first bee sting while at daycare.  No one in our family is allergic and neither was he thank goodness.  He cried for all of two minutes and then was fine.  Daycare lady was shocked as her ten year old, when last stung, sobbed for thirty minutes straight so Theo getting over it so quickly actually threw her off and she worried about him even MORE.  He got stung on his thumb-sucking thumb (of course!) which left me in a dry-mouthed panic but yet again, he rolled with it and managed just fine.  When I picked him up he said, "Look mom, bee sting me right dere. He wanted honey from me."  And that is when my heart swelled and almost burst out of my chest because OF COURSE THE BEE WANTED HONEY FROM HIM.  Who WOULDN'T?

Saturday, 10:00 a.m.--I was in the kitchen packing some road trip food as we were about to leave for a weekend trip to Wisconsin to visit Bryan's dad.  Theo was in the living room messing with his drum set.  Suddenly I heard him burst into tears and he came running into the kitchen.  "KITTY CAT BIT MEEEEEEEE!"  Full disclosure: our cat is the most patient cat ever and normally if he pushes her buttons too much she'll 'bite' him but never break skin.  It's a non-invasive warning that does the trick, which is what I thought had happened.  "Where did she bite you?"  "OVER DERE BY HER BED!"  Um.  "I mean on your body honey.  Where did she bite you?"  "ON MY HAAAAAAAAND!"  I looked at his hand and sure enough, she left a few marks.  More scratches from her teeth than anything but it was the most evidence I've seen from her so he must have REALLY done something upsetting.  I washed him up, put some Neosporin on it and he calmed down.  I asked him what he did to the kitty cat to make her bite him.  "I-I-I just gave her a TOY! Then I hit her on the head!"  Aaaaaaaand there you have it.  So we went over to the kitty and Theo apologized.  I also  noticed she was sitting there with two wooden trains on her back and one close to her head so I can only assume she wasn't a huge fan.  Go figure.

Saturday, 10:43 a.m.--We were all packed up in the car and just about to pull out of the driveway when Theo accidentally poked himself square in the eye with his drumstick and burst into tears.  His eye was red but not scratched, and a few well-placed kisses from us made him feel better.  For the next hour his right eye teared which made him look like he had gotten into a bar brawl, especially from his scratched and swollen right hand.

Saturday, 1:15 p.m.--On our way up North we stopped at Denny's (I know, I know. NOT A LOT OF OPTIONS) and as we were leaving Theo tripped and fell into the edge of the waiting area booth.  He screamed and cried and when I picked him up he already had a lump forming in the middle of his forehead with broken blood vessels.  By the time we got him some ice it was a huge goose egg.  I actually had to bobby pin his hair to the side so I could check the status of his head trauma (mental note: get him a hair cut appointment).  But also!  His long-ish hair was perfect for concealing the lump and not making us look like traveling wounded.  Potato-patatoah.  Again, he was fine eventually.  Sigh.

Saturday, 7:43 p.m.-- We had had a full day of travel and visiting with Grandpa and were happy to get back to the hotel to give Theo a bath and put him to bed.  Bryan got him out of the car and was carrying him across the parking lot while I was behind them with some bags.  Out of nowhere, Bryan tripped badly and they both came crashing down on the concrete sidewalk.  It looked like Theo hit the back of his head but it happened so fast I couldn't be sure.  Bryan's glasses flew off his face, such was the force of the fall.  Of course, Theo started screaming.  I scooped him up right away and did my best to assess his injuries.  He had no lumps and didn't say anything hurt on his head.  I finally asked him if he was crying because he hurt or because he was scared and he choked out, "Because I'm scared!" which hey, I could handle that no problem.  We kept telling him daddy was okay (which he was, if not sore.  Bryan was way more upset about Theo than anything that had happened to him, naturally) and that everyone was okay.  He snuggled into me with a face full of snot and tears and began to calm down.  We began to gather everything up that was scattered on the ground when I saw blood on my hand.  I had no idea if it was Theo's or Bryan's and after another evaluation we saw that Theo's elbow was badly scraped--about the size of two silver dollars.  He let me clean it and slather it with Neosporin "To make da owie feel better" and once we finally put him to bed he was out like a light.

I would never call Theo accident prone but this past week has just been out of control.  Amazingly we have a kid who bounces back quickly and he's been fine ever since, which made the rest of the trip a relief.  Because of all this though, I'm thinking of carrying Neosporin in a holster so I can be at the ready.  You can never be too careful.

Next best thing

I have been back to work full-time since Theo was ten weeks old.  At first my mom watched him every day for a month while we scrambled to find daycare.  He came so early and with me on prior bed rest we didn't have anyone lined up by the time he was born.  Through a family friend's recommendation we found the most perfect at-home daycare lady ever.  She was laid back but organized, and loved the kids with all of her heart, especially Theo.  At four months he was nineteen pounds and she carried him so frequently throughout the day she ended up needing PHYSICAL THERAPY on her arm three times a week in addition to every day icing.  To me? That is some serious dedication.

She would drop him off at our house and pick him up if needed.  She'd send us home with extra soup or veggies from the garden.  She offered to meet us at the ER close to midnight when Theo was ten months old and was tested for Kawasaki Disease.  Ms. D would wash his clothes and beloved blankie for us, and clip his nails when they got sourly neglected by his parents.  On days I was held up at work she'd sit Theo down at their dinner table and he'd eat with them like he was part of the family, which he clearly was.  We were truly blessed to have found her and for Theo to be in such wonderful care.  Going to work every day was hard but I never EVER had to worry about his safety or happiness while he was with her.

Eventually when he started talking he'd ask for her over the weekend.  Heaven forbid I took a few days off--I got boring really quick and he was itching to go back.  If he saw a van that resembled hers in a parking lot he'd squeal for her and wonder why she didn't magically appear.  I honestly took all of this as a huge compliment because we found someone to watch him that loved him as much as we did.  It never hurt my feelings to have him lunge into her arms when we walked in the house, or accidentally call me by her name after I picked him up.  He's a mama's boy through and through so I've never questioned his preference as I've always been The Chosen One.  But it made every day so much easier knowing he loved it at her house so much.

Well, she retired the beginning of June (almost two years to the DAY that Theo started there) and we had the huge job of finding ANOTHER day care facility.  Insert panic and emotional eating.  This time, I felt like it was a million times harder since Theo has memory and thoughts and opinions and I was heartbroken for him that he wouldn't see his friends or Ms. D anymore.  Plus!  She set the bar so high!  I'm not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that I made myself sick over the thought of finding someone new.  Horrid scenarios played out in my overactive brain and I worried about Theo's safety and security.  I was assured by many that he'd adjust way better than I would, and I believed that seeing as Theo gets over things in a fraction of a second as opposed to me who holds a world record for Just Not Letting It Go.

We came by our current provider through word of mouth yet again and she's great.  Less expensive (always a plus but really, having to put a BUDGET on your child's care is the most awful thing to figure out because can ANYone be paid enough? No.) and closer to the house which was huge for me considering how long it took me to get to and from our old place.  She's calm and gentle and the other kids she watches are great, which was another concern of mine because what if the kids were bullies?  Or rude and obnoxious?  We didn't want Theo around to be influenced like that but thankfully it's a non-issue.  We like her and Theo is happy.  Big. Sigh. Of. Relief.

Clearly, there are many things that are rough about being a working mom, but I'd have to say finding daycare is one of the hardest.  Not only does it have to work for the parents, but the kid has to enjoy the environment as well.  Plus it helps if the daycare lady likes your kid too!  Sigh.  Does it ever get easier?  It's always going to be something isn't it?

This parenting thing, man.  It sure is something else.

*******

Since this topic has been consuming me lately, I also wrote about how to find a great daycare over at Work It, Mom!  Pop on over and let me know about YOUR tips.

Toddler talk

To end this week on a happy note, I present you the most recent Theoisms as of late because are they ever fabulous.

"How old are you?"

"I two and grandma's old."

****

(How he sings the Sesame Street song. All at top volume, all at the same pitch.)

"NEIGHBORS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOOOOOD! NEIGHBORS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOOOOOD! NEIGHBORS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOOOOOD!"

****

"Oh look Mom! Dat widdle girl's selling remenraid!"

****

Shopping at Target, going up and down the aisles.  Whenever I'd put something in the cart:

"You buying pizza Mom? I LOVE PIZZA!"

"You buying bread Mom? I LOVE BREAD!"

"You buying milk Mom? I LOVE MILK! COW MILK! SO TASTY!"

****

In line at Trader Joe's and Theo is flirting with woman behind us. I ask, "Are you being silly?" "No Mom, I just admiring that lady."

****

After his bath:

"Daddy? I mommy's tiny angel!"

****

We go to Dunkin' Donuts sometimes as a special treat and always get Theo a few Munchkins. 

"I want a black donut! Look Daddy I lick it like a popscicle!"

****

We have a whole wall of windows in our dining room so as we eat together at night we see a lot of animals in our back yard nibbling on the lawn.

"Awww, look at the tiny bunny! He eating his salad!"

****

His new favorite thing to do with us in the mornings (he comes to get me at 1:10)

 

I can't even possibly express how much I love him.

No shame

As my child gets older and has a growing understanding of the world around him, he is not shy about voicing his every want and desire.  Not all of these demands can be met, obviously but as a toddler he does not understand this.  And if he does that doesn't mean he agrees.  So, because of living with a walking Id, I have been called upon to throw down a white lie here and there.  And I'm sure any parent would agree with me that there is a time and place for this.  Examples:

--Theo is obsessed with coins.  He loves to hold them, talk about them, sort them, and throw them.  If one falls out of your jeans he can hear it hit the floor five rooms away.  We are very careful with his access to change so he doesn't put it in his mouth.  This isn't usually a problem until we're in the car and he sees a random quarter and dime in our cup holder for tolls.  When he gets fixated on wanting to hold them I employ the old Driving Coin excuse. "I'm sorry honey. Those are special Driving Coins.  Only the grow-up driving the car can hold those because they are special.  They have to stay up here so the driver can use them, okay?"  "Oh. Okay mommy. Special Driving Coins stay up there.  Me no touch them."  Ta da!

--We don't let Theo eat snack foods like chips unless it's in moderation and as a special treat.  As parents, however, Bryan and I can eat them whenever we damn well please, so we have to hide the bags of Pirate's Booty or Cheeto's whenever we buy them.  Occasionally we'll accidentally leave a bag out or Theo will be too quick to see before we put it away.  We are then met with whining and sheer determination to have a snack and no matter what reasons I give don't seem to work.  That is, until I had a stroke of GENIUS one afternoon.  Theo is in love with one of my co-workers.  Talks about her all the time and is convinced she is responsible for Christmas, she is just that wonderful.  So, at my wits end one day over the chip debacle I said, "That bag is for Miss O, honey.  Mommy has to bring her that bag of chips as a treat at work tomorrow so we can't eat them."  He literally stopped in his tracks and said, "Okay." and walked off to play.  Cue heavenly choir.

--We really try to limit his television watching to the weekends.  But that doesn't mean we are met with complete agreement on this household rule.  So when Theo gets up from his nap and the first thing he says is, "Me watch Veggie Tales on the tv Mama? I need to watch Thomas.  How 'bout Sponge Bob?" it's just easiest to say, "They're all sleeping.  They're still taking their naps so we can't watch them right now."  Nip THAT bad boy in the bud.

Now please realize we tell Theo everything to the best of his understanding and answer ALL of his questions no matter how long the string of Why?Why?Why? is.  I do not make a habit of lying to my child.  But really, sometimes the harmless ones are just easier.

What fibs have you told your child to keep the peace?  I might have to file away some good ones to be called upon later!

Why we keep him

Some quotables from our son as of late:

"Me push grandpa in his wheelbarrow again?"

*****

When the sunlight gets in his eyes he shouts: "Mr. Sunshine MOVE!"

*****

"Almost done pooping mom!"

(one quick grunt)

"ALL DONE POOPING MOM!"

*****

His favorite song ever:

*****

First thing in the morning when I walk in his room:

"No poop in there mom. No poop.  No change the diaper."

*****

He drinks from the 'water mountain' at my office and puts his dishes in the 'sink washer' when he's done.  People ride on 'motorbikles' and when he wants to say 'everyone' it's 'every people.'

*****

While changing his diaper (finally):

"I smell something down there Mom. Stinky poop in there."

"Yes, yes it is. What does it smell like?"

"CHEWBACCA!"

*****

Upon spying his plastic Easter eggs in two seperate pieces: "Oh no!  Humpty Dumpty did it again!"

*****

Bryan the other night while giving him a bath: "Okay it's time to get out."

Theo: "Mommy has boobies!"

*****

Hour two out of four on our way back from Wisconsin:  "ROAARP. Oooh! Chocolate burp! YUMMY Oh look mommy a CRANE! A BIG one! Over dare!  ME WANT GRAVY MOMMY! GRAAAAVY!"

*****

I have a new post up at Craftastrophe.  Hey, if you've ever wondered what a sheep's skull + human hair + toile looks like then now is your chance.

Weekend

We are now firmly ensconced in Two territory at our house which pretty much means we're living with a small person who's emotions can turn on a dime.  Most days I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, tiptoeing around as to not upset his majesty.  A frequent thought process of mine goes something like this: "Okay so he wants juice. He's happily playing at the moment so do I ask him which cup he wants and risk the chance of him flipping out asking for a cup he can't have?  Or do I give him the green cup with the blue top and hope he doesn't take it, scream, and launch it at the dining room window?"  Most days giving Theo food or beverage is not unlike being a member of the bomb squad, deciding between cutting the red or blue wire.

But this weekend.  This past glorious weekend.  Theo was a delight.  He was joking, snuggling, laughing and running around like a crazy person.  We had his two year well-visit Saturday morning and he's the picture of health.  His lungs sounds great and, per usual, we got the comment, "Wow!  He's as big as my three year old!"  We know.  We hear that all the time.  He is 36 pounds, 38.75" tall and is estimated to be around 6'3" by the time he is eighteen.  The doctor asked if he can put two words together yet and I laughed.  He has between a 700-1000 word vocabulary and can speakin six-word sentences.  He's in the upper 90th percentile across the board and we can thank Bryan for that as my 5'4" frame isn't the one winning any awards here.  Theo didn't cry when he got his one vaccine, and instead was more interested in the nurse's name tag.  We went out to breakfast afterward and had a truly enjoyable time--he ate well and had no fits about not being able to put the knives down his pants.  Relief!

We heard "Mommy look at me!  Look at me mom!"  "Birds up there. In da sky, flying!" "Aw, ca-uuuuute squirrels outside inna tree!"  "Kitty cat go night night. Aw, kitty sleeping!"  "No tank you mom.  No tank you."

I got my first unsolicited I Love You and it was like time stood still.  I was crouched on the floor of his room, picking up all the pieces of his two Mr. Potato Heads when he came behind me, wrapped his arms around my back and laid his head on my shoulder. "Wuv you mom" he said as he gently patted my arm with is still-fat little hand.  And as quickly as it happened, he was off again.  "Kitty poop in there mom! Litter box kitty go POOP!"

Such is our life now.  Always changing and unpredictable.  Theo is learning so much every day it's hard to keep up.  And honestly, most days I don't blame him for wigging out over something seemingly minuscule.  His brain and body are exploding.  I can only imagine it feels like PMS times ten and dude, I want to hurl a coffee cup at the wall some days, or melt in a puddle of tears over my cell phone dropping a call.  But these ups and downs only help make the wonderfully ordinary weekend we all shared together as a family even more amazing.  If I could, I would have bottled it to keep forever.  Break in case of emergency.

From the brink

I'm sure all of you were checking your calendars and scratching your heads on March 3rd wondering, "Isn't today Theo's birthday? Did Sam. . .FORGET? Or furthermore, does she even CARE? I mean, a kid's second birthday seems to be a pretty big deal but hey, who knows about her and her crackpot parenting skills.  That poor poor neglected child.  And Bryan, having to manage everything himself.  Tsk tsk tsk." 

But oh, my friends, you would be wrong.  For we had Grand Plans for March 3rd.  Bryan and I were going to go into Theo's room that morning singing Happy Birthday (his favorite song, btw), there was a party planned at daycare, and that evening we were going to take him to his beloved 2 Toots restaurant for a special dinner.  Grandma was going to come over with presents!  It was going to be sensational!  (Are you catching the whole past tense there?  Yeah.)

Instead Theo had a 102.6 fever with severe cough Tuesday night and was up multiple times.  We scored a doctor's appointment the morning of his birthday that landed us two inhalers (he was wheezing) and a diagnosis of "It's just a virus. This is the sickest he should be, so you should be good to go for his party on Saturday.  If he has a fever by Sunday give us a call."  Okay doc!  So instead, we had a very feverish and lethargic little two year old who only wanted to lay on the couch and watch Lady and the Tramp.

Daycare lady did come over with the troops and dropped off his present and cupcakes which was awesome, but the poor chicken was feeling too icky to really have any fun.  They didn't stay long, of course, but after they left I was putting him down for a nap and he felt WAY warm.  So I checked his temperature again.  103.6.  Children's Motrin was officially put on notice because dude, that's going UP not DOWN.

The next day was spent mostly like this:

His fever would go down but never fully away, and his cough was awful.  He'd still have moments of playfulness, but he was still laying on the couch a lot with me which is highly unusual, as this child Never Stops Moving Or Talking.

Friday we each had hair appointments in preparation for the party on Saturday and he had a good night and woke up with a low-grade fever.  My mom had planned on watching him all day Friday so I could get the house ready.  Well, around 12:30 his fever spiked to 103.5 again so we went back to the doctor.  Calls had already been made to cancel the party, and at this point I was getting worried.  At the pediatrician he was tested for Strep and Flu both of which he did not have.  His lungs sounded a little better but she did not like that his fever had never fully gone down below 100 even with the Motrin and Tylenol.  So we were ushered off to Urgent Care for chest x-rays to rule out pneumonia, which made my butt clench because the thought of having to hold my child down to get those x-rays was the last thing on earth I wanted to do.  And then I was thinking, "Well, do we HOPE it's pneumonia?  Because that way we'd get antibiotics and he'd be on the road to recovery.  But if he doesn't have it then YEAH! it's still just a virus that we need to ride out but then he won't be on anything.  GAH GAH GAH."  The doctor also informed us that if he had any smidge of a fever AT ALL on Monday we needed to bring him in for a battery of tests as a fever over seven days is not really a good thing.  So that was looming in front of us as well.  At this point, turning two wasn't anything we had told Theo it would be.

Luckily we had the most amazing x-ray technician in the history of ever and the whole thing was almost enjoyable.  There were stuffed monkeys and extra special gowns only big boys get to wear and hey, let's take a fancy robot picture and look at this huge machine with all these buttons that blink!  When we were done Theo was blowing her kisses and I wanted to marry her.

He didn't have pneumonia so we just kept doing what we were doing with the breathing treatments and Motrin.  Saturday he turned a corner and maintained a lower fever while getting some of his appetite back.  He was playing more.  Things looked good.  But for those of you not familiar with toddlers who have been super sick and suddenly start to feel better, let me just say they are unlike any living thing you have ever dealt with in your life.  Bi-Polar doesn't even begin describe their range of emotions.  Theo had been catered to for five days straight and now that he was feeling better we were less relaxed about some house rules.  Needless to say this did not go over well.  So the combination of him being sick and starting to feel better, not getting everything he wanted AND turning two was quite the Trifecta Of Awesome.

We all made it out the other side, and he's doing great now.  Bryan and I have caught up on our sleep and the house isn't collapsing under its own filth anymore.  We even managed to reschedule the party for his past Saturday and had a great time.  Coincidently, there will still be a birthday montage for our amazing boy, along with a post dedicated to him and his past year--that is something that may be late, but never forgotten.  I think I will declare this next week to be his Internet Birthday Week since he got the shaft while being sick.  But as of today, he is quite back to normal.

****************************

In other exciting news, I am now writing over at Craftastrophe--I post every Wednesday and I'd love for you to come on over and say hello!  My first post from last week is here and Wednesday I got into the St. Patrick's Day spirit.  Come join the fun.  

Parent: 1 Child: 0

There are some days that Bryan is home watching Theo while I'm at work.  It's not uncommon for me to receive a few iphone camera shots with what they're up to, and a phone call once or twice detailing a humorous Theo story. The other day was no exception.

Bryan had asked Theo to pick up some of his toys, to which he was met with a loud and defiant "NO!"  Now, let me just say that we don't expect this kid to wash his dishes, clean his room and make his bed.  I mean, he's not even two yet.  But he is entirely capable of picking up some of his dump trucks and tractors off the floor and putting them on the table.  He has done it before with great success, and is a champion picker-upper at daycare so we feel this is not unreasonable.  Theo had a differing opinion, apparently.

While Theo was launching Toygate, Bryan got a call from our daycare provider that she needed another check as the old one wasn't filled our correctly.  She was out and about and was planning on stopping by in ten or so minutes.  With that, a light bulb went off and Bryan saw an opportunity.

"Theo, if you don't pick up your toys I'm going to have to call D and then she'll come over and tell you to do it."

"No!"

We have a huge picture window in our living room that looks out on our driveway and front walk up to the door.  So when D's car pulled in the driveway and she got out, Bryan said Theo's jaw dropped and his eyes got wide.  Frozen, he watched her go up to the door and ring the bell.  As soon as Bryan opened it he heard:

"Clean up! Clean up! Everyone do their share!"

Parenting RULES.

Soothing

I was a wee bebe when I started sucking my thumb along with a blanket to accompany the joy and I remember both bringing such comfort.  The familiar smell of the fabric, the soft worn edges with a strip of satin, the caress of my finger beneath my nose.  I continued this much-loved habit until I was in fourth grade and I only quit then because I was getting braces.  Who knows if I'd still be sucking my thumb to this day had it not been for my orthodontic needs.

Bryan was a long-term thumb sucker too, so we had our suspicions that Theo would be as well.  I was THRILLED when he found his thumb at a few months old.  He took a pacifier as a newborn but quickly lost interest in it after a month or two and honestly, I was glad because it was a PAIN replacing it for him every time it launched out of his mouth.  I was praying for him to suck his thumb because hey, it's always right there!  No parental involvement required!  Because you know nothing says Mother Of The Year like a hands off approach to newborn soothing techniques.

At first he'd dance back and forth between his right and his left but eventually settled on his left thumb and he's been going strong ever since.  Theo also has a blanket, The Blanket, with a specific satin tag in one corner that gets his undivided attention.  I absolutely love that he has something that can bring him comfort when he's tired, upset or not feeling well.  The look of contentment that falls across his face when he first pops his thumb in his mouth and rubs his tag is amazing to see.

So you can imagine the heartbreak that befell him last night when his thumb was sore to the touch last night, causing him to cry.  He had a hangnail at daycare that tore down to the quick that was red but didn't look infected.  Every time he wanted to suck his thumb to go to sleep he'd cry and not know what to do with his hand.  I called our pediatrician to see if I could put Neosporin on it to ease the pain.  Didn't want to poison him or anything, obviously.  (Oh! As an aside!  I first called the pharmacist thinking "Hey, is Neosporin poisonous?" would be a quick and easy question.  Instead I got: "Well WHY would you do that? It's not going to HELP anything.  Just put a band-aid on it."  To which I replied "Uh, well, I thought that would help prevent infection.  And I didn't want to put a band-aid on it since he'd probably chew it off."  "Band-aids don't TASTE like anything, why would he chew it off?"  "Oh, well, uh, because that's the thumb he puts in his mouth and he just wouldn't like the feeling of it."  "Oh, well I guess there's no telling what people will do these days."  /end call.  HELLO ASSHOLE!)  We got the go ahead but one application didn't cure it instantly, of course.  He finally fell asleep after much singing and rocking (his new favorite night time song?  Happy Birthday.  I gotta say, it's really odd to sing that over and over again in the dark.)  Bryan and I thought we were in the clear until he woke up SCREAMING around 3:30.  He settled for a little while and then hysterical sobbing ensued until 5:00 when we just decided "Okay! We're up!  Elmo on DVD it is!"

After another application he's able to suck again, so I fully expect him to take a marathon nap and sleep like a champ tonight.  So please, take it from me:

1).  Careful with hangnails if you have a thumb-sucker.

2).  Never call your older-male-with-no-kids Osco pharmacist to ask about Neosporin application to an appendage that goes in the mouth.

3).  Just take the day off work for the love because keeping your eyes open at Workplace is going to make you want to curl up under your desk and suck YOUR thumb.

4).  Maybe pacifiers aren't so bad after all?

Moment in time

Dear Theo--

Today you turned 18 months old and I don't know how gifted you are at math (and with the genes from your father and I I'm guessing not very) but that means in just six short months you will be turning two.  TWO.  I. . .I can't wrap my mind around that.  You're growing so fast and learning so many things and wasn't it just yesterday you smiled at me for the first time which made me burst into a puddle of hormonal and exhausted tears?  Didn't you only JUST learn how to sit up on your own?  If it weren't for pictures I would swear it were true. 

 

Every single day you learn something new that makes your father and I gobsmacked because, like, isn't that something KIDS do?  We still have a BABY and BABIES don't know how to point to helicopters in books, or pant and crawl around when we ask what puppies do.  Babies don't know how to put their finger to their smiling lips and say 'shh shh shh' when we're sneaking up on daddy and need to be extra quiet.  You are clearly telling us you are growing up and as much as I'd like to cover my ears and pretend it's not happening, I can't.

 

(See? The beginning signs of a teenager.)

You love to give kisses.  Usually it's prompted but there are rare moments when you'll just give them away and it is in moments like these that butterflies erupt from my chest out of pure joy.  You know quite a few words, but the ones that get used the most are mom-eee, da-da, cuh-kee, juice, ball!, truck, car, pup, cat, cracker and cup.  The mommy thing is rather funny, as it seems to be your go-to word for when you want something.  ANYthing.  You chant it all day at daycare when something is out of your reach.  You inundated your grandmother with it while she was watching you one day, despite her requests for "no, say grandma. GRANDma. GRAND-MA!"  A typical day involves you saying "mom-EE!  mom-EE!  mom-EE! . . .MOM-ee!  MOM-ee!  MOM-ee!" even if I'm standing two inches in front of your face.  You obviously feel the need to turn the alert level up to eleven, even right out of the gate which I must admit is rather entertaining.  But how you address your father is another matter all together.  With him you coo "daaaa-daaaah" in the softest most velvety voice ever to have escaped your lips.  Now, why is this?  I'm not offended, but just dying of curiosity.  Please, remember your reason and as soon as you can speak in sentences I expect an answer mister.

 

I love this age.  If I could I would bottle it and keep it forever because you are just so much fun.  You crack us up every single day with your goofy antics and silly sounds.  But as much as I want to freeze time right this very second, I can't wait to hear you ask questions and watch you find your passions.  I'm giddy at being able to help you grow and learn and seek and explore.  Seeing you achieve something you've worked so hard at for the first time fills me with pride and I know there is much more to come.  So while my heart silently breaks when you suddenly look like A Boy some mornings and not A Toddler, I'm still okay with it.  It's a joy and a downright privilege to be your guide on this crazy journey.  The day to day minutiae filled with adventures here and there.  You are my baby boy.  My little man.  My heart.

 

I love you bunches--

Mom-EEE