This is my baby who is no longer a baby. Will. Doing one of his favorite things: playing cars.
He'll be 3 in April. I've always said that I love the "two's" when it comes to toddler development. I also love, LOVE babies- but the 2's bring more personality, humor, spunk, and activity that surpasses chasing a crawling baby or toddling toddler. Two-year olds DO things and their play encompasses more than drooling over a plastic block (don't get me wrong, though- I love watching babies drool over their toys). And all of these things have rung true during Will's time as a two-year old.
He is full of personality, humor, spunk, and activity and does a marvelous job of keeping his mom on her toes. When he stops moving & playing, it's to eat, sleep (although while he is a fabulous sleeper, he is quite the wiggleworm even as he snoozes), or pause while he considers what his next activity should be. And sometimes, "activity" equals mischief.
This is the kid who has, to date (and just to name a few):
- written on the nice couch (i.e., the one without holes & tears that we aren't embarrassed for company to see) with pencil. Did you know the eraser doesn't work very well on fabric?
- drew on the walls with a black, dry erase marker (that was today).
- snuck into the laundry room, then used one of his chairs to climb upon and reach the Shout stain spray, then proceeded to spray my CLEAN, dry sheets in the dryer. And then for good measure, sprayed the doorknob, so that when I entered the laundry room, my hand was soaked. It was like I'd been booby-trapped.
- dumped Tide detergent from an economy sized box all over the laundry room floor. That was a fun one. The mess left me speechless and motionless. Completely overwhelmed, I said to Jeff, "I just don't even know how to begin." And because he's a good husband, he made the mess disappear.
- created a makeshift "bowl" of cereal on his table by transferring the dry cereal he was snacking on in a Ziploc bag to the table's surface, and mixing it in with the milk from his cup.
- pulled 90% of the bath towels from the linen closet and lined our upstairs hallway with them.
- bathed himself with something not at all soapy. Picture a runner at the end of a marathon on a hot day who douses his hair, face, and body with a bottle of water. Now picture a 2-year old (who's not at all hot or sweaty) doing the same, but indoors on carpet with a cup full of sticky orange juice. This also happened 5 minutes before it was time to leave, so he got to experience his first shower as I scrubbed juice out of his hair.
- rubbed Vaseline in his hair. He looked like a greaser whose negligent mother hadn't bathed him in a month.
- lathered Jeff's gel in his hair. Who cares that you're only supposed to use a dime sized amount? Directions are merely suggestions.
- and one of my personal favorites, acquired a straw that he then used to slurp Skye's water out of her bowl. I suppose he was too dignified to lap up the water with his tongue- hence, the straw.
A lot of this happened before Jeff & I went door to door and put a doorknob protector on every knob. Before, we only had the protectors on bathroom doors and the doors leading outside. But clearly, linen closets and laundry rooms, and hey- while we're at it, bedrooms (except for Will's), can also have a protector. Better to be safe than sorry- or sticky or messy.
I'm typing with one hand and knocking frantically on wood with the other so as not to jinx myself, but as of late, it seems we've toned down on the mischief a notch. Maybe the doorknob protectors played a role, but I think it's also because Will is maturing just a smidge. He is still a handful and challenges me regularly. These days, as we near the 3's, it's not always mischievous actions that I'm dealing with. It's backtalk.
Like,
"Will, if you're done, please clean up the toys over there that you dumped out."
"No, YOU clean up the toys, Mama!!"
Or,
"Mama! Come here and help me right NOW!!"
It's a work in progress. And frequent reminders to stop yelling and use good manners. And daily lessons for me to remember PATIENCE. (To be fair and give credit where credit is due, his older brothers also play a significant part in giving me lessons on patience too.)
My little redheaded spitfire is wilder than his big brothers ever were. Spunkier too. You'd think a mom would find parenting her 3rd child a piece of cake since it's kind of old hat, but nope- every kid is different. He's loud, messy, rough, and occasionally, a disrespectful troublemaker.
BUT.
He's full of life and zest. And he invests the same amount of energy into his laughs, playfulness, silliness, and enthusiastic hugs and kisses as he does his troublesome moments. He has one of the best smiles I've ever seen that goes straight to his beautiful eyes and makes it obvious that he's a happy kid.
He calls me "Mama", which I love to hear him say. And he usually punctuates every sentence with it.
"Hold my hand, Mama."
"Wait for me, Mama."
"Come here and sit with me, Mama."
He has started saying, "I love you too." And even more recently, he initiates it, coming over and squeezing me with his tight hug, and saying, "Looove you!"
When he hears me say, "Ouch!", he always asks, "You otay, Mama?"
And the other day, when he asked for a peppermint patty, I handed it to him and said, "This is the last one. We don't have any more left." Without hesitation, he broke it into two halves, handed one to me and said, "Here you go, Mama."
Any kid who shares chocolate without being asked obviously has a big heart.
He's wild & crazy, and he'll probably turn my hair prematurely gray and make me worry about him as a teenager (and adult), but he's mine. And I truly can't imagine my life without him.
 |
| "Oh, there's a camera pointed at me? Better be extra cute." |
He is full of personality, humor, spunk, and activity and does a marvelous job of keeping his mom on her toes. When he stops moving & playing, it's to eat, sleep (although while he is a fabulous sleeper, he is quite the wiggleworm even as he snoozes), or pause while he considers what his next activity should be. And sometimes, "activity" equals mischief.
 |
| Sitting in Time Out. So boring. |
This is the kid who has, to date (and just to name a few):
- written on the nice couch (i.e., the one without holes & tears that we aren't embarrassed for company to see) with pencil. Did you know the eraser doesn't work very well on fabric?
- drew on the walls with a black, dry erase marker (that was today).
- snuck into the laundry room, then used one of his chairs to climb upon and reach the Shout stain spray, then proceeded to spray my CLEAN, dry sheets in the dryer. And then for good measure, sprayed the doorknob, so that when I entered the laundry room, my hand was soaked. It was like I'd been booby-trapped.
- dumped Tide detergent from an economy sized box all over the laundry room floor. That was a fun one. The mess left me speechless and motionless. Completely overwhelmed, I said to Jeff, "I just don't even know how to begin." And because he's a good husband, he made the mess disappear.
- created a makeshift "bowl" of cereal on his table by transferring the dry cereal he was snacking on in a Ziploc bag to the table's surface, and mixing it in with the milk from his cup.
- pulled 90% of the bath towels from the linen closet and lined our upstairs hallway with them.
- bathed himself with something not at all soapy. Picture a runner at the end of a marathon on a hot day who douses his hair, face, and body with a bottle of water. Now picture a 2-year old (who's not at all hot or sweaty) doing the same, but indoors on carpet with a cup full of sticky orange juice. This also happened 5 minutes before it was time to leave, so he got to experience his first shower as I scrubbed juice out of his hair.
- rubbed Vaseline in his hair. He looked like a greaser whose negligent mother hadn't bathed him in a month.
- lathered Jeff's gel in his hair. Who cares that you're only supposed to use a dime sized amount? Directions are merely suggestions.
- and one of my personal favorites, acquired a straw that he then used to slurp Skye's water out of her bowl. I suppose he was too dignified to lap up the water with his tongue- hence, the straw.
A lot of this happened before Jeff & I went door to door and put a doorknob protector on every knob. Before, we only had the protectors on bathroom doors and the doors leading outside. But clearly, linen closets and laundry rooms, and hey- while we're at it, bedrooms (except for Will's), can also have a protector. Better to be safe than sorry- or sticky or messy.
I'm typing with one hand and knocking frantically on wood with the other so as not to jinx myself, but as of late, it seems we've toned down on the mischief a notch. Maybe the doorknob protectors played a role, but I think it's also because Will is maturing just a smidge. He is still a handful and challenges me regularly. These days, as we near the 3's, it's not always mischievous actions that I'm dealing with. It's backtalk.
Like,
"Will, if you're done, please clean up the toys over there that you dumped out."
"No, YOU clean up the toys, Mama!!"
Or,
"Mama! Come here and help me right NOW!!"
It's a work in progress. And frequent reminders to stop yelling and use good manners. And daily lessons for me to remember PATIENCE. (To be fair and give credit where credit is due, his older brothers also play a significant part in giving me lessons on patience too.)
My little redheaded spitfire is wilder than his big brothers ever were. Spunkier too. You'd think a mom would find parenting her 3rd child a piece of cake since it's kind of old hat, but nope- every kid is different. He's loud, messy, rough, and occasionally, a disrespectful troublemaker.
BUT.
He's full of life and zest. And he invests the same amount of energy into his laughs, playfulness, silliness, and enthusiastic hugs and kisses as he does his troublesome moments. He has one of the best smiles I've ever seen that goes straight to his beautiful eyes and makes it obvious that he's a happy kid.
He calls me "Mama", which I love to hear him say. And he usually punctuates every sentence with it.
"Hold my hand, Mama."
"Wait for me, Mama."
"Come here and sit with me, Mama."
He has started saying, "I love you too." And even more recently, he initiates it, coming over and squeezing me with his tight hug, and saying, "Looove you!"
When he hears me say, "Ouch!", he always asks, "You otay, Mama?"
And the other day, when he asked for a peppermint patty, I handed it to him and said, "This is the last one. We don't have any more left." Without hesitation, he broke it into two halves, handed one to me and said, "Here you go, Mama."
Any kid who shares chocolate without being asked obviously has a big heart.
He's wild & crazy, and he'll probably turn my hair prematurely gray and make me worry about him as a teenager (and adult), but he's mine. And I truly can't imagine my life without him.
2 comments:
How funny that we both posted about our little men today. I think we both captured how unique they are and how totally different their temperaments are. I'm just glad that they (mostly) mesh well. I had to laugh at all of will's antics...he's an entertaining little guy. We all love him very much.
He is a busy guy. But so much fun and so sweet.
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