...And now for something completely different.
So Patrick turned two. And then celebrated his third Christmas. We saw Santa but he didn't get his picture taken with the Big Guy in the Red Suit. I am not sure if this makes me a good mom or a bad one. (Heh.) I wanted to get the picture but I wasn't really a fan of braving the mall. And then we did, one snow day, and there were maybe two kids in front of us in line, and Patrick waved at Santa and played peekaboo and smiled and absolutely refused to get anywhere near him. We have pictures of mildly whiny (and mildly ill) Patrick with Santa last year and clearly unhappy Patrick with the Easter Bunny from this year, so I was sort of hoping for Screaming!Patrick with Santa this time around, but alas. For his birthday, Grandma got him a "Night Before Christmas" book and ever since then, we have had to read "the Santa book" Every. Single. Night, so if we had just gotten that a little earlier, perhaps we would have had some more success on that front.
Anyway, I digress. Two. There are tantrums, I suppose -- but not too many yet and we mostly ignore Little Man and let him flail about on the floor and he calms down before too long -- but two is rather delightful so far. Patrick gives "big hugs" and if you ask for a kiss, he will present you with his cheek. Very regal. Lately he has started saying "I do it" for most things, including, say, pouring his own sweet tea. He doesn't get to do that, but he does get to try to put the top on his sippy cup. Then it becomes "Mommy do it." It's cute.
Patrick has been enthralled with vacuum cleaners for a while now. He insists upon emptying the dirt and vacuuming at Grandma's house and always wants to vacuum at home and regales us with stories of how Maddy vacuumed at daycare. He got a vacuum cleaner for his birthday, and for a week did not let it out of his sight. Those batteries went quicker than any other toy we've had. Since then he likes it but not quite as much. Patrick is also being groomed to be a total boy. His father (ahem) keeps buying him trucks and other things that go. We have no more room.
Patrick likes candy and cookies and sweet tea (sigh), hairdryers (heh), plugs/cords, and dancing. He has recently figured out that our alarm clock has a radio, and he likes to carry it from room to room, plug it in (he can pull out the plug-protectors, something which sometimes even I cannot do), turn on the radio and dance. He knows he's not supposed to mess with the plugs but he also knows I think it's cute when he dances so the little manipulator uses it to his advantage.
We've successfully transitioned to the big boy bed, with the help of Magic Bumpers. Patrick, who likes getting under the covers when it's not bedtime, or in any other bed, REFUSES to get under his own covers. He insists upon sleeping with his blanket (we have several; he's not picky about which one in particular), which he takes downstairs every morning when he wakes up. Like his mother, Patrick is not a morning person. He goes to bed around 9, usually without too much fuss, and wakes up just in time for Curious George ("monkey on TV!") at 8. He likes to make cinnamon toast "pop up!" and doesn't like to get dressed and go to daycare. I sympathize with this, which is why my arrival times at work seem to be getting progessively later.
After daycare, we have to take a left turn to go home. Every day, Patrick asks to turn right to get hash browns from Bojangles. I haven't given in yet, but his father (and grandma, on the rare occasions that she picks him up) often do.
We haven't really started potty training yet, but we do have a potty, and we do ask if he wants to use it. He has expressed some interest and successfully peed in the potty twice. I am sure this will embarrass him later in life, but what the hell, he can do it to his own kids in turn. He wants to go sometimes when the mood strikes him, and he stands there and sticks his belly ... and other things ... out and tries so hard to make something happen. It doesn't, and then he goes on the floor five minutes later. We're working on it. I suppose I might make more of an effort next month, when it starts to get warmer. Although we already let him run around naked half the time. Hm.
|  | MOMMY'S |
DADDY'S |  |  |
