Two and a half

Nico turned two and a half on the 15th and holy cats, is he letting us know. For the past week or so he has been bringing some serious toddler assholery to the table. I hate to say it about my usually-sweet little ball of sunshine, but when it gets to the point where I'm standing over his changing table wailing "Where is my child?"…well, I gotta call that like I see it. I'm trying not to despair because it's probably a phase, it's always a phase. Currently, though, I can't brush his teeth without a huge battle. He'll fight a nap all afternoon and then fall apart long before bedtime. He'll look right at me and laugh and then do something he's been firmly told not to do. Like bounce himself off the glass shower door. (No, no, and hell no.) He likes to make his own choices, which I am totally fine with, and I'll even allow a mind-change. But not three or four or five. Not "Gray socks. Red socks. Gray socks. GRAY SOCKS! NO, RED SOCKS RED SOCKS REEEEEED BUWAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" Not that this has ever happened to me while my child thrashed around on the floor and tried to kick me in the head to escape the horrible oppression of the socks he insisted he wanted to wear. (Now you ALL want a baby, don't you? DON'T YOU?)

He also has not been eating well and keeps insisting he's not hungry, that he only wants to drink milk. We'll offer him every healthy and semi-healthy option available and he'll stubbornly maintain "Not hungee yet. Just mulk." I'm trying not to get twisted around the axle of it because I never want food to be a battle, but he's definitely straining the limits of my "he'll eat what he needs when he needs it" parenting philosophy. He's not wasting away and he still seems full of energy, so for now I guess we'll just keep offering him food until he decides he wants some. Seriously, though, kid…would it kill you to eat a sandwich and ease your mother's mind?



My baby is getting to be a big boy. With ridiculous eyelashes.


We managed to mostly circumvent the teeth-brushing meltdown by giving him a grownup toothbrush. We'll see if it works again tomorrow night.

Despite all this, despite how utterly exhausting he can be, two and a half is also kind of awesome. He's full of words and ideas, he's trying new things and gaining confidence. The other day at the library he made a little paper camping tent, which then became a cake, which then became "the biggest piece of huckleberry pie" from a Pooh story he likes. After long months of utter indifference he now loves to scribble in his coloring books with crayons and will tell me all the colors, including the fancy ones like dandelion and "red purple" (red violet). He usually says thank you without prompting and sometimes spontaneously wraps his arms around my neck, lays his head on my shoulder, and says "I yuv you." He may be trying his hardest to break me against the rocks of his tiny will, but at least the voyage is still pretty amazing.