21 months- the legal toddler (now with video!)
September 14, 2006
You have just turned 21 months old.
You are a boy of few words. As I type this you are sitting on my lap pointing across the kitchen sayng, “Joe…joe” over and over again. You are getting increasingly annoyed by my inability to understand what it is that you so desperately want. Coffee? Cup of Joe? Do you want coffee? At this point I would willingly give it to you in an effort to save me from anymore whining.*
You are very particular about your food. If I peel your banana I must leave the peel on, like a wrapper for you to hold. The same goes for granola bars, string cheese, or anything else that comes in a wrapper. When you get to the very bottom of the banana and the peel has to come off, you have a huge fit. EVERY TIME. You fling yourself on the floor and scream and cry, “Noooooo. Nooooooo” You refuse to eat the last part. I think you should just get over it now. I know that I laugh and I realize that probably upsets you even more. But I can’t help it.
You are a climber. You climb onto everything. Last week you tumbled off the bench at our kitchen table banging your face on the way down. I would notice a few hours later that you chipped your front tooth. First your father’s thumb, now your tooth, I think those benches might be out to get us. You will push things over and stack them up in order to reach something that is forbidden, like the sugar bowl or the stove top. Yes, I aged about ten years the day I found you sitting on the cook top playing with all the knives. Even though you were perfectly fine all the things that could have happened ran through my mind.
There is no sort of child proofing device that is safe from you. You can undo, or work around all of them. I have to hide things that I don’t want you to get into. Just this morning you opened a child-proof bottle of medication that was sitting on the table between us. If you feel the need for a snack, you will just go and get one, as if asking for one is not even a thought you would entertain. Likewise you will go into the bathroom and brush your teeth, usually trying out everyone’s toothbrushes and then wash your own hands. One favor I have to ask you though, will you please remember to turn the water off and not throw the hand towels into the sink that that it overflows? Thank you. I will appreciate it.
You run and jump and have learned to pedal a tricycle. You have obviously inherited your father’s superior athletic ability genes and not my unco-ordinated ones. The way that you love watching sports and balls of all kinds I realize that we are in for many many more years of coaching, watching, and spending every waking moment immersed in sports. I am oddly comforted by the fact that in ten years your oldest brother will be 22 and he might like to help coach your little league team or bring you to games, while your father and I relax and play Canasta.
You love to read books now. And “read” outloud with great expression while you do it. I especially love how now one of your favorite books is punctuated with an Ooops on every page. The other morning you were reading it in bed,and as I lay there in bed I couldn’t help but stifle a giggle as you said “Uh-OH” loudly in place of ooops before you turned each page.
Not quite as fun is the way that you want me to read the same book over and over and over again in a precise, though unclear to me, manner that can not be deviated from in the least.
You have had your first time outs this month. Which you seem to enjoy a little more than a person being punished should. In fact, if anyone else is sent to time out, you enthusiastically join them. You will sit in the corner in the kitchen looking at me with your big wide eyes. Suddenly you will say “Daw dawn” (all done, for those of you not up on the toddler lingo) complete with your hand sign and get up to walk away. The few times I have tried to stop you, you have looked at me and emphatically stated, “DAW DAWN” complete with what I believe to be an eye roll and look of disgust. And though I know I shouldn’t do it, I laugh. And yes you get out of time out.
You love to play outside and will try to sneak out of the house given any opportunity. We found out recently that you know how to open the sliding doors in our sunroom when I happened to look out the window and see you swinging on the swings in the backyard all alone. It might not have been that bad, except that it was night time. Now whenever you are out of my sight I suddenly begin freaking out and screaming, “Where is the baby? Where is he?!” and your siblings will usually point out that you are right behind me.
You idolize your sister. Everything she does you think is the coolest, bestest thing ever. I love the way that you look at her, as if the sun rises and sets because of her, which incidentally she believes is the case also. You are content with any morsel of attention she throws your way.
You have decided that baths are the worst thing ever and act as if you are being dipped into a vat of boiling oil. While I bathe you as fast as I can you try to claw your way up my arm and out of the bath. Perhaps you are part cat.
You also have an equal dislike for bedtime. When the sun sets, you think it is time to pull out all your cute tricks and be so adorable that we can not bear to send you off to your crib. That is how cute you act. And the sad thing? I fall for it every single night. And then around 10:00 pm I’ll suddenly look at the clock and realize you are still awake.
My favorite part of this video is how you laugh and laugh and act like going to bed is the biggest joke ever, like I could not possibly be serious that it was time for sleep.
Yup, my house is like a frat house for toddlers.
You are still the most smiley child, ever. You are so happy all the time. And your dimples, I could get lost in them.
I love you smiley Miley.
*After a tour of the kitchen and the various cabinets you decided that you were screaming about a banana. Have you forgotten how to say banana?
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