Sunday, March 29, 2009

Nick's Twenty-Seventh Month

Nick really grasps concepts now, more than just associating names with objects. When he's cold, he pretends to shiver and says, "Brrrr, it's cold!" He got pinned in between the couch and the table, and he yelped, "I'm stuck!" We practiced alot with his books: hot and cold, up and down, spiny and smooth. He requests car rides, the playground or playing outside. We've started that age-old practice of spelling things around him now, but I don't expect that to last long either. (If he knows what Dora the Explorer is spelling, in 3 different languages, what makes us things we're being so slick that he won't catch on?) My favorite this month: he knows cars, and he knows trucks. He can identify a Fiat, a Ford and Porsche on site (you thought I was talking about generic idenfication of cars... that's too easy! Hear that, if any of my clients at Ford are reading this?) He still gets slipped up sometimes with first-and-third-person relationships. He'll get upset, then stop crying and ask, "What's wrong?" He's his own phsycologist.

We spend Friday nights circling the grocery store as Nick pushes one of the carts for little kids up and down the aisles. He never reaches for anything on the shelves, just loves to push. Never unsupervised, though, as he'd mow the little old ladies down, focused intently on their coupons and not watching out for a high-speed toddler with a steel battleram, as he tries to pick up speed on the straightaways.

He got to tubby in Aunt Megan's whirlpool tub. Brandi convinced him the bubbles were fun, and to look closely at the jets as she turned them on... and then it rifled a vicious projectile of water square into his face and thrust him back about 3 feet into a hosed and pathetic heap. Funny, yes. But a face full of water, at what feels like a PSI comparable to a space shuttle launch when you're only two, is a tough way to learn how a whirlpool tub works.

When he and mama returned from Atlanta from their stay, I was so happy to see them. (And the 150 people aboard Northwest Flight 472 were happy Nick was home as well.) I reached for my son and told him how happy I was he was home. He responded affectionately with simple terms: "Pizza!" At least he's easy to please. He eats a ball park frank like a man, bun and all. (No onions and relish yet, although I haven't offered it to him, either. And sometimes the parts get consumed separately.) Still loves spicy food. But he can't get enough popcicles. Note to other parents: sugar-free popcicles are helpful for good poos.

He followed his mama into the bathroom last week (gotta remember to lock the door) and sat down on the little potty next to her, on his own. So naturally, we encouraged this activity. Then he reached for a magazine, and we got a cute picture. When you see the picture, I want you to know he only reads the articles! ;) (And the magazine wasn't mine, I swear!) Mama shook her head at him, and questioned whether this material was appropriate. Then he pointed to the girl in the picture and said, "Mommy!" Of course, that was the perfect response for the situation. Once again, that's my boy - always got the right answer handy when he needs it.

Click here for 27th month pictures.

- Jason