Spits & Giggles

So, uh, Nate is two.  And you know what they say about two…

The other day he decided he was just going to stroll on over to Pat and Clarence’s house.  According to James, he never looked back.  I got a glimpse of this at Happy Hollow after our birthday party when he took off like a shot.  Luckily Helen was watching him.

I’m joking.

And then there’s dinner.  Nate thinks dinnertime is his cue for a Jackson Pollock drum solo.  Most nights he loses his fork rights.  Well, every night.  Tonight is was for spaghetti conducting.  Seems he does it for spits and giggles.  (Again, the perfect baby boutique name.  I’m a MACHINE.)

He has learned to choke down lettuce in exchange for chocolate.  After manhandling the lettuce like balled-up Kleenex.

His latest thing is money.  He has to have a fist full of coins, “Money.  Money.  Money.”  But of course this money is easy to drop into car seat cracks and backseat crevices… as we’re driving over the likes of Highway 17.  No one seems to understand that I am not Elastigirl.  The sobbing is crazy.

Even worse is the pre-bedtime post-bathtime diaper change.  Once he’s lost his bathtub privileges for excessive splashing, we generally carry him wriggling and no’ing to the changing table.  Where he cries until his lips turn blue.  He’s been doing this long before he realized he’s an independent being possessing free will.

And I cannot get this child to sit on his bottom to save my life.  He is constantly walking around our breakfast nook bench, doing headstands on our new chairs, climbing his high chair like a play structure.  Though he does sit still during Time Out.  He’s gotten some pretty good practice over the last few months.

Tonight Natesy said “I love you” for the first time and it was so cute…  wait, what was this blog about again?