You've come a long way, not-so-much-of-a-baby-anymore!

The Boy is 2 years old today. (I have to admit that the helmet pictures is actually a couple of months old. Sorry. All the newer photos end up on Turtar's computer.) I'm not sure that I'm up for any deep reflections on the journey with my son over the last 3 years (counting pregnancy), but I'm so proud of him. He is a vital part of our family. He is very deliberate about including others in his activities. He goes out of his way to wave to others and say 'hi'. He is a solid walker, and loves music and dancing. He is just starting to learn so many signs and words. He hates being carried anywhere and doesn't even like holding my hand. He'll sit down if I try to hold his hand while he's walking so that I can control our direction. He loves telephones. He know just what to do with them, too: hold them to your face and walk around while you laugh. He loves a good joke. He pays attention to what gets a laugh, and will start his own applause for non-comedic achievements. He loves books and hates getting dressed. Its a very exciting time! He also loves bread, but doesn't care for cake, so this year we'll be celebrating with some pumpkin bread and homemade smoothies. (I recently discovered this is one of the few acceptable ways for feeding him fruit. McDonald's is good for something!)

Wowza

Both kids in Halloween pajamas.

Funny stuff first: While The Boy was sick a couple of weeks ago, he had less restraint in the potty-training department. As soon as I pulled off his diaper, and before I could sit him down, he peed straight onto my crotch. True story.

This kid is impressive. He is potty-training very well. In fact, just a few weeks ago, he signed 'potty'. At first I thought it was just a desperate attempt to get out of his highchair. But when I put him on the potty, he went! He knew he needed to go. He knew how to say it. Amazing. In fact, potty training is going so well that when he sat on his new Baby Bjorn potty the first day, he held his pee until I put him on the big potty. Twice.

Yesterday, he asked for 'water' using sign language. This is monumental both for communication development and nutrition. He generally despises drinking, but the past few days have seen a real upturn in that department. In fact, I let him hold his plastic Ikea cup with two hands and he drank all by himself! When I tried to get The Boy to show off for his Pops, of course he dumped the water all over himself and eventually threw the cup on the ground, but I know the skills are there.

His PT talks about how he progresses every time she sees him. It maybe only a tiny bit, but he has the motivation to learn things on his own. He is on the very cusp of crawling. He can army crawl a bit, but he also pulls himself into quadrapd and is starting to grasp the idea of mobility (and the ensuing freedom).

His OT talks about how his small motor skills have developed ahead of his large motor. Apparently that's a very positive sign of intelligence. He has a very long attention span, often playing with only one or two toys for the entire hour-long visit. He's got pretty good pincer skills, and we never even practiced that. He points with a single finger. He loves books. And it has to be the book that is being read. It's no good giving him one book to play with while you read a different one. No good.

His Speech Therapist talks about how he is always looking at things, working them out in his mind. He's constantly engaged in serious observation, or would like to be. That's probably why his calmer shopping that sitting on the floor surrounded by his toys. Those are old news. The world is a big place and he needs to see more of it!

And it seems like I'm always talking about all of those things: how amazed I am by him, how proud I am of him, how smart he is, and how everybody is predicting he'll be high functioning. Of course, that prognosis could change, but with so much struggle behind us, and so much struggle ahead of us, I happy for the good news and progress right now, even while I stand knee-deep in plenty of struggle, too.

Leaps and Bounds

The Boy is on fire. ON FIRE.

He is using the potty. Every time I put him on the potty, he makes something, and he waives 'bye-bye' when we flush. He rarely poops in his diaper. His diaper is often dry when I take him to use the bathroom.

He just cut his first tooth.
He is going to sleep on his own, instead of having to be rocked.
He is eating solid food in pieces, not just pureed (though he won't touch the wet foods... he'll only pick up the puffs himself).
And he just did his first sign.

Yes, that's right. His first word. And he really knows what it means. Ready for it? The Boy's first word is "all done". He used it first to say he was done eating. Then that he was done sitting by himself, and done laying down, and done eating again. Now that he's been using it for a couple of days, he just likes to play with the wrist movement, or maybe he just does it over and over again because it's his whole vocabulary so far.

When he 'said' it the first time, I thought I was going to implode, or spontaneously combust, or disintegrate or something. It just seemed like too much. Too much pride, too much joy, too much relief. I'm so crazy proud of my amazing, genius, twenty-wonder.