Sunday, July 19, 2009

Twenty Months Old Today (umm, 13 days late)

Calvin always has something clutched in his fists. He goes in phases - back and forth between balls, trains, cars, etc, but he always has something he can't let go of, even at nights. The first thing he does every morning when I come to get him up, is grab his blankets and then look around his crib for whatever he was holding the night before and dropped in his sleep.

Water. His biggest passion.

His first roller coaster ride with Auntie Carrie. He was not a fan as you might imagine from the worried expression on his face.

Dear Calvin,

A few months shy of two years old, I think this is the month I have seen the biggest changes in you. It has been amazing to watch you turn almost overnight from a dependent baby to a small little boy who thinks and talks and jokes, one who has thoughts and wishes and ideas of his own. I love it. Part of the reason I haven't been blogging lately, is it's just so much fun to spend time with you, and you love to keep me busy. Here are some of my favorite milestones from this past month:
  • You've learned to say "no." I knew it would come, but I wasn't prepared for the day that I would say, "Calvin let's change your diaper" and instead of you getting a mischievous look on your face and running away, you stood your ground and defiantly said, "no!" I think it's going to drive me crazy, but then there's an adorable side to it. Like when you're playing outside and it starts to rain, or when you drop something, or when your favorite tv show is over and you say in this indescribably sweet whiny little voice, "oh no!" and then I love it.
  • You've learned to say "boo!" You'll jump out at me from around corners, or cover your face with a blanket, or hide wrapped up in the shower curtain, and then yell "boo!" with this devilish, proud little smile on your face.
  • You sing along with everything. For songs you've heard a lot, you have fantastic pitch and timing. You'll hit the right notes and time the holds and pauses just right, even if your gibberish doesn't make any sense. For new songs, you'll just say "duh, duh, duh, duh, duh" along with the music.
  • You have this strange fixation on skin. If your daddy has his shirt off, you'll take your shirt off and just press yourself into this huge hug. In the morning when we're all lying in the big bed, you'll come pull up my shirt and just lay your cheek on my bare belly. You love the contact of skin, and you use every opportunity to get close and give the best, longest-lasting hugs.
  • I haven't done a ton of bubble baths with you, but the other night we did one and you kept saying, "wow! bubbles!" the entire time. Then you put suds all over your face and caught a glimpse of yourself and your white beard in the reflection of the faucet, and you just laughed and laughed like it was the best thing you had ever seen.
  • All of a sudden out of nowhere, you are responding to our requests to point to parts of your body, point to certain colors, point to certain shapes. You can say several of the shapes, and you can identify five or six colors, but you'll only say "blue" and not any of the others. You are so smart with puzzles and blocks and building and identifying. You now say several more animals, and often will even accompany their names with the sounds they make. I love the best that you're always pointing out your nose, head, belly, mouth, ears, etc. just to hear us say the names over and over again.
  • You've started doing the funniest, most random thing. When I'm somewhere in the house doing dishes or laundry or whatever, you'll run as fast as you can towards me, and then without slowing down, you'll face plant straight into my butt or front thighs, whichever is facing you. I always catch you so that the momentum doesn't knock you over, and then you'll laugh uncontrollably at your clever little joke.
  • You have this obsession with the Wii Fit that is beyond annoying. It's the first thing you want to do in the mornings, and anytime we're in the basement, you'll run to pull it off of it's shelf. Once I spend forever getting it set up, you'll play for like five seconds, and then you'll drag me over to it and want me to play so you can watch. I absolutely hate when it's 6am and a 1.5 year old kid is forcing me to play stupid video games that tell me I'm out of shape and unbalanced. The only cute part is that you've learned a lot of words from it. They say "ready?" and you'll mimic the voice perfectly. You'll also count down with them, 3-2-1, and when the lady weighs you and says "oh!" like you're fat and she's surprised by the weight, you say "oh!" along with her and clap with delight. Anytime you look at us with huge dark expectant eyes and say "ready?" we know you want to go play the Wii. You get that 100% from your father.
The biggest thing I've noticed this month is how you actually seem to be processing things. It's like finally you're listening and understanding and actually thinking through what we say. Like if you start to throw a tantrum, I'll explain to you why we can't do this or that or what we have to do first, and you'll usually calm down. If I say, "we can't go outside because you don't have any clothes on" you'll run to where we get you dressed. I love it. I love that when I say we're going bye bye, you run to the garage door, and once we're out, you go straight to your door on the car. I don't have to carry you or chase you most of the time. It's like we understand each other and we respect each other. It's like we're actually friends. Every single day I'm so happy that I was the one lucky enough to be your mother. I can't imagine a day without your sweet antics and I'm doing my best to enjoy every single second. I love you Calvin!



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