Two!

So, have you met my son...




Yeah. Last year around the time he turned one, I started calling him Taz as it often seemed to me that I'd created a real life version of that lovable little cartoon monster. A year later and I now realize I had NO IDEA! What I took for Taz-like behavior back then was nothing compared to the the little devil currently snoozing in the crib in the next room. My sweet little chunky baby has turned into a full blown whirling dervish. He bites, he hits, he kicks, he throws, he climbs, he jumps, he fights, he wails, he lies! (oh yes -- I'll get to that later).



I love the little guy, and I should say that much of the above is not done out of any sort of malice, he is just 100% impulsive and there's just no control there. One night recently he was in my husbands arms singing some sweet song he'd learned in daycare for father's day. It went something like "daddy,daddy, daddy, love you everywhere and every way". And just as my husband and I were grinning ear to ear and ahhing over the sweetness of it all, WHACK - he just smacked my husband across the check out of nowhere. And hard. I really think much of the time he is trying to play and he thinks it's all very funny. But then again there are the times that he's mad because his sister won't give him whatever she's got, or I won't let him pour the orange juice in the already full cup, or I dare to put a diaper on him, or he want's to hold the whole box of crackers and not share them.

The thing is I used to roll my eyes when people would talk about how much harder little boys were. I knew they were very physical and often prone to games of war, but my daughter was never exactly easy. My dad used to compare my daughter with my nephew and talk about how much more physical, etc, that he was. And truly I thought he was full of shit. I would think "have you MET your granddaughter?" She seemed to me to be pretty physical and she certainly was never one to sit in a corner playing quietly. Little did I know.

Compared to her brother, my daughter might as well have been in a coma. The boy WEARS ME OUT! In the last week, almost every day when I pick him up at daycare I've had to carry him kicking and screaming to the car. This only after chasing the little guy all over the playground. He likes to take off into the big kids playground and climb, throw the mulch, throw the rocks, and then practice his civil disobedience training by falling to the ground once I am able to catch an arm or a piece of his shirt.


I am trying my damnedest to be gentle but firm with him, but he is every bit as willful and stubborn as his big sister. One big difference, however, is his size. The kid is 33 pounds of muscle and when he fights me, well let's just say I could use a lot more naps.

And then on the flip side, the little guy is all kinds of shy. If I take him to a party or someplace new he is attached to me like superglue. He will eventually warm up and start to wander around a bit, but god forbid someone tries to touch him and he's right back on me all "mommy, mommy, up, up, up!" It makes the first 10 to 15 minutes someplace new quite easy as long as my arms don't give out. Of course once he warms up and we're back to Taz-like behavior I start wondering why I bothered to go as I can never really socialize unless my husband is there too, but we often divide and conquer with the kids, so I'm quite often going it alone.



As far as food goes he's definitely our adventurous one. Although it is often hard to get him to sit still and eat with us. And some nights he hardly eats anything at dinner (I think he just eats a lot during the day -- trust me, there's still plenty of pudge there, he's not starving!). But, two weeks ago he ate a bowl of salsa with a spoon.

6 weeks ago he ate my entire bowl of spicy gazpacho at a dinner party. He loves pretty much anything sauce-like and he'll try anything as long as someone else is eating it.

He still loves to be read to, but as he's more active now, our reading, and therefore snuggling, time has really shrunk. He loves to play with his sister and her things. Fortunately, much of the time she likes to play with him too. They love to rough house together - which kind of drives my crazy - and he loves to be in her room. He loves his many, many trains and trucks. When he wakes up in the middle of the night and in the morning he usually wants me, but at night he prefers for his daddy to put him to bed. He clearly likes his friends at daycare and his teachers, but he still often clings when I drop him off in the morning. He loves to dance and sing and he has the sweetest little voice. He's bossy and likes to tell me "mommy sit here!" He loves to "wash his hands", which really means play in the kitchen sink small plastic bowls with the water running. He loves the pool and always wants to go swimming. If I pass our old street he points and asks to go "home". He'll tell me he wants more dinner as a ploy to leave his room. He'll ask to say goodnight to his sister or daddy and then run into the living room to his toys. He likes to sit on my lap at meals, but only rarely will let me help him with his spoon. He doesn't like to have his teeth brushed, but he does like the antibiotics he's been on recently for strep and a sinus infection. He HATES when strangers try to touch him and doctors visits, dentist visits, and hair cuts are pure and utter misery for us both. But once I tell him we are leaving he will high five and kiss everyone.