Twenty-six months with Alvie Bean

Amy Cissell
June 10, 2014
Oh, Baby!
576

Alvie –

Two days ago you turned twenty-six months, and for the first time since you were born, I failed to mark it in my mind. I remembered yesterday (the 9th), and was surprised. It hadn’t even made it onto my monthly dry-erase calendar. I guess I’m getting used to you and passage of time now.

So big! He loves his tricycle.

This was a hard month. You are really pushing your limits with everyone and everything. You have so many opinions! SO MANY!

You are intensely curious about everything, and your new constant question is, “what’s that?” You want to know ALL THE THINGS! And if I do not understand your question (and let’s face it, you’re just over two, I do not always understand your questions), you react…poorly. You will just lay down and sob. You have the same reaction when you’re told you can’t do something. Like yesterday, when I told you that I would not allow you to drive my car, you laid down in the parking lot of your day care and sobbed. I usually just let you have at it unless there’s a safety or health issue involved (like when you’re lying in a parking lot).

Watching the world go by – so many things to learn.

You’ve been a little hitty at school, too. Last week, you hit a little girl. With a shovel. We talked about it on the way home, and you were clearly able to articulate what you’d done, but not so much the why. (Your why was because she’d either opened a door that shouldn’t have been opened or refused to close a door that was open – something about an open door, anyway. Regardless, it probably did not warrant a shovel smack.)

I know it’s super frustrating when people don’t do what you want how you want it done (and when). Or when people (like mommies or daddies or teachers or friends) don’t understand what you’re asking. I’m still confused why this morning’s cereal and milk that daddy gave you wasn’t the RIGHT cereal and milk. But we’ll get there, and there will be plenty of hugs and kisses and trial and error until we do.

When you’re not being a tiny sociopath, you are a delightful child. You’ve done so many brave things this month! You ate a popsicle (it was weird, but you persevered, and it turned out to be delicious!).

“I pronounce this popsicle delicious.”

You ran through the sprinkler.

“I dwinkin watah!”

You crossed the scary, wobbly bridge on the play structure and went down the big slide. And after a few bridge crossings, you didn’t even need to hold on anymore – so brave!

You practiced your reading skills – and really prefer that you do all the reading now, thank you very much. You love to read to mommy and daddy, and it’s pretty impressive how well you remember what’s supposed to be on each page. You even do different voices in books like “Green Eggs and Ham” and “Fox in Sox.”

We went to the Zoo and you had a great time looking at the otters, using all the hand sanitizing stations, and admiring the workers with the big dustpans. Also, we saw a baby elephant! So cool! And there were puddles! For jumping!

OTTERS!

WATER!

We’re still working on your fear of the bathtub, but you (finally) hopped in the kiddie pool after splashing mommy for about 30 minutes and had a great time. We’re still a no-go on the tub, but I’m positive we’ll get there.

“I spwash mommy!”

You are periodically interested in potty training, and when you’re into it, you do a great job. You’ve pottied in public restrooms several times and have done a great job in your Thomas Underoos at home. But the minute you lose interest, you are done. So that’s been weird.

Alvie in his Thomas Underoos building a vewy, vewy, vewy high tower.

You are also really into doing everything yourself. You will carry it. Or read it. Or push it. You do it. “I do it, no help mommy.” Until you’re tired, and then you raise your arms up to me, “Cawwy, mommy. Cawwy.”