Twenty-Nine Months

Dear Peeper,

You are twenty-nine months old today, and I think I'm finally comfortable referring to you as "almost two-and-a-half" now.

I guess I've been saying that for a week or so, and I'm glad to have an easy answer when people ask.

They look at me funny when I say a month-age, but it just seems wrong to say "two" because for at least a couple of months, that's seemed so inaccurate, since you are so, so, so different than you were when you turned two.

So, "almost two-and-a-half" it is!

I don't even know where to start in describing who you are and what you're up to these days. I've got a ton of stories that I feel like I should have told already, but your funny and amazing and surprising statements are just coming too fast to even stop and record them.

That's my excuse, at least.

Or, possibly, Mama's too lazy. I'm sorry.

First, let me get the one negative story out of the way. A couple of days ago, at a MOMS Club event, you bit another kid. Just bit him. "Right dere!" as he said, while performing a dramatic reenactment.

I was both mortified and shocked.

Luckily, I suppose, according to his mom, he'd been through quite a biting stage of his own, so she was very understanding, but me? Not so much.

As we've already discuss, Mama was "very, very sad that you bit JD, and doesn't want you to ever do that again."

You totally 'fessed up about it, but I don't think you really seemed to get why it was a problem.

I just hope you don't do it again, because I really don't want you to be that kid. Please don't be that kid.

Other than that, though, you are still just a delight. With the further development of your language, you've (thank gawd!) moved past the "No no noooOOO!" stage, and although you will still often tell us that you "Don' like it" or "Don' want it" that's much more, well, unannoying, shall we say.

And you are talking. Totally. Like complete(ish) sentences with semi-correct grammatical structure and prepositions and adjectives and questions and everything.

Your pronounciation still has room to grow, but someday someone besides Mommy and me will be able to understand you, I'm sure.

You haven't started with the "why" questions yet, but you are very close. You ask "What is it?" and "What kind of ______ is it?" and "How works?" and "(new word) means . . . ?" and "____'s name is . . . ?" and many other things.

You continue to learn more and more of your letters and letter sounds, and you seem to be enjoying the few actual structured-ish learning activities that we're doing. You get excited about making your "letter crafts" and always tell me to "Hang it up!" (or "Show Mommy!" if she's home) when you finish.

You are very into hiding, and making us hide. Your friend K taught you how to play hide and seek, but you don't totally get it.

Usually it goes something like this: "Hide in closet, Mommy!" or "Where's Peeper?" "Hiding in closet!"

In addition to the closet, you especially like to hide under Mr. Panda, and under the covers in bed. You really like it when we hide with you, or when you get to have "goody in (the) tent" under there.

You love to sing, and get very, very excited when you do. Sometimes it's more shouting than singing, technically.

I can't even begin to list all the songs that you know and can (mostly) sing. Your favorites are probably the ABC Song and Itsy-Bitsy Spider, I think.

You are also playing more and more imaginatively every day, and I just love to hear your talking to your toys and narrating your games.

And, you've discovered potty humor. The other day, you were in the bathtub and offered me a drink of water out of your cup. I knew darn well that you'd just peed, and I made the mistake of saying, "No, I don't want to drink pee-pee water!"

So, now, every night during your bath, you (repeatedly) scoop up a cupful of water and say "Mama drink pee-pee watuh?" and it's just the funniest thing ever.

I need to get some video of that, or of you offering us other things, because a description just doesn't do justice to how cute it is. You do this little head-cock thing, and scrunch yourself up and hold it out, and say "Mommy?" or "Mama?" in this high-pitched voice.

Even when you're offering me urine, it's adorable.

You do the same little move when you're putting "mi'bit salt" on something, which is also the cutest thing ever.

Our salt and pepper shakers are pretty clogged up, so it's pretty safe for you to play with them, without totally overdoing it, so we let you.

(This is a problem when we go other places, where the shakers are actually functional.)

If you ask for the salt, we say "Ok, just a little bit," so you've learned to say "Mi'bit salt!" as you pour it, and it's really just too cute to say no too.

And, if you put pepper in your Cheerios and still want to eat them, who are we to stop you.

You do a lot of that kind of experimenting with your food, actually. You're very into pouring and spooning things back and forth.

If you were in a Montessori school, you'd be making an A. If Montessori schools had As, that is.

I should probably set you up with some pouring and scooping and spooning activities, but you seem to be creating plenty of your own.

Water poured from your cup into your bowl. Poured back to your cup. Spooned into my bowl.

Okay, that's where I tend to draw the line.

But, really, if you want to pour water into your chicken and rice and then spoon up the water and eat it, saying "Soup! Mmmm" who's it going to hurt?

I might not want my Goldfish to go swimming before I eat them, but you don't seem to mind, so knock yourself out, kiddo.

Speaking of food, you do seem to be eating more of it lately. Still not a whole lot, but more. That's not something that we stress about (you're getting plenty of nutrition from nursing), nor do we push you to eat  but we have been surprised several times by how much you've actually eaten.

And speaking of nursing, we are still going strong there, with no signs of stopping any time soon, although it does seem that there are more and more nights that I tuck you in around midnight (or one or two - ugh) and if I manage to not wake you up when I crawl into bed later, you don't ask to nurse until morning-ish. Sometimes not even until I actually wake you up, if we have somewhere to be relatively early.

And now, I'm racking my brain, trying to think of all the hilarious things you've said lately, and I can't think of a single one. I promise I'll try to do better about blogging these things as they come out of your mouth!

And now, I need to get your jammies on and your teethies brushed, so we can catch an airplane in the morning, and go visit Grandma and Grandpa!


I love you!
Mama