He's three!

Oh, my sweetest little Finn! You turned three years old! And since then, you've had this monumental leap in personality and thoughtfulness...even though you fell heavily, splat, right out of Lily's bed last night and flat on your tummy onto the hard floor. It didn't shake any brains out, though.

Physical heft aside, and you have visibly grown lately, you are kind and gentle. Unless Lily gets all up in your business...which often happens. (Unless I'm not there. Then apparently you don't fight at all because you two are not vying for my attention! Who would have thought?) But you love to share your toast, or your gum, or really anything you have with anyone. You are very attuned to other's feelings which is why I can "cry" and you will softly comfort me. You even blow me kisses through the window as you ride your tricycle and helmet on the patio and melt my heart.

Dad said the other day you asked if you could throw something out the front window. He said no, then went back downstairs. A few minutes later you yelled, "Dad, come see what I did!" When he arrived, he saw that while you hadn't thrown the original item out, a toy cash register, other toys and magazines had been hurled onto the path below. But we seldom get upset, likely because we're just reveling in your pride and utter cuteness when declaring these things. Besides, your feelings are easily hurt. You come from a long line of sensitive people.

You are convinced you a big boy and while I won't disagree, you seriously think we should let you drive the van home from daycare. True story! But you're still not potty trained. At times, you will protest, screamingly, the taking off or putting on of diapers. Which is too bad because you are so good at peeing on the toilet, especially since Mezia implemented jelly bean rewards. (Apparently Smarties weren't as strong an incentive.) Pooping is currently your downfall. You can't squat on the toilet, therefore you don't consider it an option. No rush, my last baby.

We had your birthday party on your actual birthday, a Thursday. Lily wanted Carly there as your birthday is her half birthday and well, her birthday is your half birthday. Nana came, too. We started with presents as I couldn't see a reason to make you wait. You got so much awesome stuff! A zoo Duplo set and book from Uncle Nigel, Auntie Jessie and Ferguson; a semi truck and digger Lego set from Grandma and Grandpa; a pirate treasure chest with dagger, spy scope, bandanna, etc., and pirate figurines from Nana; a bunch of big boy gotch from Carly and Jack; a Captain Hook cuff with fishing rod, canon, net, hook set from Lily; and a large pirate sword with treasure map, etc. and Spiderman mask from Mom and Dad. After, we ate supper of mac 'n' cheese and sweet potato fries before calling Jack to join us for cake. You blew your candles out like a pro. Things got a little dodgy after that with lots of crying so after Carly and Jack went home, you went to bed and were asleep within minutes.


You are a big, beautiful, bright boy whom we all adore. Happy birthday, Finn!

Hitting the big time!

Last night you learned to ride a two wheeler! Finn got a new bike, you rode Carly's old bike and Carly rode her bike. You guys went up and down the sidewalk while Dad cut the grass. When he was done, we all went to the park. Before we even hit the grass, you were off! You probably rode five metres. It was a huge success and I was SO proud. And you glowed with pride. I can't wait to see you do it again!

Happy 2nd Birthday, Finn!

Today you turned two so we celebrated by going out for supper, opening some gifts and blowing out some candles. On Saturday, we'll celebrate again with Grandma and Grandpa, Nana and Carly with supper and cake and more candles. You'll be really good at it by then. Happy birthday, little man!

Sentences!

Finn's speech has improved a lot this past week with a lot more sentences. Today he said, "I go in, too." It was the "too" part that surprised me. And even before this week, he'd just say "in" and nothing more complex. Of course, there are still things he just whines in one long word. Mostly it's been "outsiiiide" this week. But here are some other thing I can think of off-hand:

• "biPad" became "iPad"
• "Put on boots."
• "Finn throw ball."
• "No, Mommy push." On the swing.
• "No, Mommy do it."
• "No, Lily. Stop it." 
• "Sit down."
• "Change my bum."
• He sang Twinkle, Twinkle using only the word Mom.

And here's where I just upload a really adorable pic of him in his new awesome shades. Ah, I could just eat him up.

Lily of the Valley

You are now six and a half; it was official on the day before Valentine's Day. After we plunked some candles into a muffin when Finn turned 18 months, you wanted to know when your half birthday was. Now it's "a thing" and we celebrated with beet chocolate cake with beet icing. Delicious and fudgy and a perfectly good excuse to eat cake.

Things change with you almost as fast as they do with Finn, though they are things that could easily be missed. Not asking me or Dad to call and ask for Carly, but just asking yourself. Just going over to Carly's without anyone to knock on the door for you. Eating supper or lunch at Carly's with her family.

You've just started an after-school program one day a week called Artrageous Minds. It impresses me that you make your way there, all by yourself, without prodding or help. You went to Sparks camp for a day and thought it was the funnest thing ever. You cooked your own lunch, you played games, did crafts. You actually really like Sparks so it looks like you'll go into Brownies in the fall. You worked a tea about a month ago and though it was a little frightening to ask people if they wanted more cake, it got easier as time went on.

School is going well. You've been bringing home lists for weekly spelling tests. So far you've only gotten one wrong. But you're happy. You have a crush. Some girls drive you bonkers. You think M. Dubé is funny. And you criticize, rightly so, Mom and Dad's French pronunciations.

On a book front, we've been reading chapter books. In the fall, we read some Ramona books (by Beverly Cleary) that were mine when I was little. On Sunday, we just finished all 79 chapters of Peter and the Starcatchers, a prequel to Peter Pan. Now we're reading Charlotte's Web, also mine. We have Peter and the Shadow Thieves reserved from library, the follow-up to the Starcatchers. It's super fun to share these books with you.

You surf Pinterest, madly pinning all the cute animals and babies. You and Dad (and Carly sometimes) play Minecraft constantly. You eat frozen mangoes and raspberries and smoothie popsicles. You jump across the couches. You walk home from school by yourself. You can be sweet and fiery. You throw tantrums and ignore our barking orders to get dressed, brush your hair, brush your teeth. Good days and bad days. But we enjoy them all.

Oh, Finney

You are now twenty-two months old. Over the past five or so days, your personality has exploded. You are funny and grouchy and oh, so sweet. On Saturday, we found you having fallen into the toilet, a wad of toilet paper in your hand for wiping. Of course, you still had your pajamas and diaper on. The next day you were "washing your hands" in the bathroom. When I heard the water and came to haul you out, I saw that you'd submersed the cordless phone into the water, the screen three-quarters full and lighting up with things we'd never seen before. You often get hauled out of the tub for continually turning on the cold water when you and Lily and having a bath, so water in the kitchen, bathtub, sink and toilet are kind of a problem...

You love to vacuum. You eat apples whole – core, stem, seeds, all of it. You walk up and down the stairs without hands now. You love to be scared when we run the loop around the kitchen and living room. You yell at Lily when she's freaking out, pointing out the absurdity of her poor behaviour. You love talking on the phone or being on FaceTime. When you are having a general conversation, you just jabber on without distinct words, mimicking the style and flow of a conversation. But you know how to talk and will surprise us by saying things. You helped me do laundry one day and were so proud, you just kept saying "I did it!" then went and got Dad to show him what you did. You also say, "Yesh! I did it" when playing basketball.

You know all the Muppets on Sesame Street from their website because we do a fair amount of video watching. My favourite is when you laugh like Bert, say Ernie and do the Snuffle Shuffle with Snuffy. You play kitchen, often pouring me drinks or cooking "tupper" for your baby that cries and giggles. You put her in the high chair when she eats and into the crib when it's time for bed. You know when something's hot, whether it be food, water from the tap, the toaster, the microwave, the oven, the coffee maker. You love warming up Dad's warmie (aka: magic bag) in the microwave because you get to push buttons. You like dinosaurs and trucks and polar bears and owls. You lift your shirt or undo you jammies when you want to press your tummy against my tummy. You have a waning obsession with belly buttons. You often put your head down on our shoulders when we hold you. You and Lily hit each other; rather, you hit her and she hits back until it gets nasty. You easily say good night to me and Lily when Daddy takes you to bed, even though you are less of a fan of going to sleep lately. You watch the same episode of Elmo's World every time we go in the van. You don't watch t.v. at home at all.

You're still our baby, but you're getting to be such a big boy. It's an amazing time and we enjoy (almost) every second of you.

How long?

Yep, 10 years of marriage plus the five and a half years before that. We're making good time...

Finn talks - another feat at 16 months

There's no going back...

Lily started grade one last week. She'd been waiting for it for a long time. Aside from a stolen (borrowed) flip-flop incident and only riding the bus once thus far, I'd say it was pretty successful. She even stayed for lunch on Wednesday.

She loves having three recesses (including the lunch one). She thinks having her own desk is pretty cool. She also thinks that it's great to have markers, crayons and pencil crayons to carry out her artistic endeavors. Her teacher, Monsieur Dubé, is very funny. He'd better have a sense of humour because there are 26 kids in that class.

I like seeking her out from our backyard on the playground at recess. Then I can see who's she's playing with or what she's doing. Otherwise, I'd never know... Typical answer to "What did you do today at school?" is: "I don't remember." Suppose I'll just have to get used to that.

Here's Lily's first after-school snack. Her brother was happy to have her home.

Six years old

Happy birthday, Lily! On Saturday, Aug. 13th you turned six years old. As soon as you woke up, you were excited to open the presents from us and Finn. We got you an overnight bag full of clothes (for both you and your Barbie-type dolls) and a glitter tattoo kit. Finn got you a Fur Real puppy whom you immediately named Popcorn after a white puppy in an old book of Uncle Nigel's. While you loved the clothes, you were enamoured by this little pup. She's your new best buddy (when Carly's not around) who barks and walks and whines.

We had a party that afternoon to celebrate and there were a whopping seven kids, having invited a couple more than we thought would come due to summer holidays and such. This year's theme was ice cream so we had some ice cream-related games and other outside water-related games to keep everyone busy until it was time to build our own sundaes. Everyone ate lots. Finn ate his waffle bowl before Dad could even get ice cream into it. The worst part was that you burned your finger on the sparkler after it burned out. Ouch. And then there were the presents. Everyone was getting a little over-excited and wanted you to open their present first. You put an end to that when you told them to relax - it didn't matter whose got opened next - they would all get opened. It was a good day that we ended in supper at Dairy Queen upon your special request.

      
           
Over the next few days, you would look in the mirror and note how you look more grown up. That your eyes have changed shape and how your face isn't as chubby. It's true. Sometimes we look at you and can't believe how much you've grown and changed. Sometimes - sigh -  you look and act much older than your six years. The other day, you felt something different in your mouth and asked me to take a peek. There, at the back on your right-hand side, was a little slit in your gums and a molar was peeking out. Over and over again, it's these little things that end up making you big.
           
Unlike your birthday, there are some days when nothing goes your way and you collapse into a heap of screams and tears - up to eight times in a single day. (We'll be well practiced for when you become a teenager.) A lot of your misery hinges on whether we let you play with Carly or not and if you can hinges on your behaviour. 99% of the time when you're not sleeping or eating, you and Carly are playing. You both have big, grand plans that usually involve me doing some sort of work for you, like your grand lemonade stand that made $27 in June, but mostly you'd both just be happy to go to the park. It's nice that you have a best friend that lives only footsteps away and right now, it's always the highlight of your day.

On our work days when you are at daycare, you are happy to spend those entire days with Carly and barely even see or notice what Finn spends his time doing. We couldn't have been luckier to find the same sitter as Carly and her little brother, Jack. The summer there has been full of sun and fun, walks to the park, a few field trips on the bus and exposure to movies on Netflix that we never would have thought of. Like Annie. I think you watched it three times in one week.

On the Tuesdays and Thursdays when it's just you, me and Finn, your expectations are happily lowered. You draw and write stories - and complain about no one pushing you on the swings or jumping with you on the trampoline. I love watching what you create and above all, I am amazed how well you sound things out when you spell them and how well you can read. Everywhere we go, you read signs. We're super proud that you just picked it all up on your own, too.

Cheers to being six. We're so excited to see where this year will take you.

Woo hoo!

It is truly a landmark day. Today, for the first time in her almost six years, Lily Julia Anderson slept in until 8 a.m. – an entire 2 hours later than her usual waking time.

This is cause for celebration. Perhaps next she'll willingly brush her teeth and hair. (But it's unlikely.)

Our girl - What five and a half looks like

I feel I've been neglecting you – or at least neglecting writing about you. With Finn turning into a toddler at the speed of light, your changes are more subtle.

Sometimes when we are with other five year olds, I see how mature you are – or how young. I find myself saying to both myself and your dad, "She's only five." Other times we say, "You're five now. You need to be able to do this."

Speaking of things you need to be able to do, you've just completed your first Lily of the Valley sticker chart. (You named it that.) A month's worth of daily tasks that each receive one check mark for each accomplished item and a sticker when you get all your daily check marks. It took four months to get all the stickers. There were five things to do each day: brush teeth/hair, put away dishes, eat a vegetable, hang up coat/bookbag, and clean up your messes. For your reward, you chose to go to Plum Garden for the Chinese buffet. For the next sticker chart, we've upped the ante. Not only are there now ten things to accomplish each day, the reward will be Go Go My Walking Pup. (A useless toy by my standard, but the pinnacle of rewards for you.) The hardest point this time around? Eating five fruits and vegetables every day. Thank goodness we give you chances to earn stickers you've missed...

School. You love it so much. You were layed out sick on the couch all weekend, but when I said I'd probably have to keep you home from school on Monday, you immediately showed that you indeed could walk (instead of being carried) and wouldn't need to miss school "because there's gym on Monday."


A couple weeks ago, you got your second report card which was followed by the student-led conference at school. You were unusually nervous about bringing Mom and Dad to school and showing us what you do every day. It was a little rocky at first, but twenty minutes and a couple of stations in, you were feeling more comfortable. You showed us your portfolio, sang us songs from your song book, did the calendar and the weather, took us on a tour of the art you had hanging throughout the classroom, showed us your math skills and finally we settled at your favourite station for playtime - the art centre. You and Dad drew pictures for each other before our hour was up. We know how bright you are, how easily many things come for you. The fact that it was all "en français" made it that much more impressive.

Your French is very impressive indeed. You speak it every day. You point things out in French; at the library the other day you said "look (at the book covers) – les arbres, les fleurs." You even scold your brother in French."C'est ne pas!" And you always ask, "Do you know how to say ______ in French?" Then you immediately tell us. For right now, your Dad and I know the answer. Soon we probably won't...

The fact you can read as much as you can is so impressive. We were on our way to the Bulk Barn one evening to get our dose of oats, flour, raisins, etc. and you smelled something out the window. You said, "It must be from that pizza place. I can tell it says that because of all the zeds at the end." Then there's the grocery list. The other morning you asked, "Why did you do this (put it in a starburst) to the dill?" When asked how the heck you knew what it said, you told me that that's just the sound the letters made. Nice. (Oh, and I put the dill in a starburst as it's been on every grocery list for the last three times and Chris has missed it everytime. And every graphic designer knows that when someone wants something to really get noticed, they ask for a starburst. And it breaks our designer hearts...) You love spelling and constantly spell words for us or ask how to spell things so you can write us notes.

Those notes. They are all over the house. You produce upwards of twenty a day and for the most part, they are all the same right now. To Mom (or Dad or Finn). I *heart* U. From Lily. Something you get fancy and put them in envelopes, always with our name in big letters on the front and usually with an ink stamp in the top right corner. Your Dad insists on saving each and every one of them because they are so cute.

In other happenings, your tastes in clothing are changing. Fortunately we need to buy you new clothes anyway as you've grown two inches since November – three and a half inches since last May. Yikes. Anyway, you've recently picked up some swank gray cowboy boots for $6, plus a gray sundress and a black and white striped sundress. All the while, I am actually wearing less black... (for the first time since I've been buying my own clothes). You shun any pants that aren't leggings, preferably capri leggings despite there still being snow on the ground. You'll also wear the same clothes to school for three days in a row, especially since you got a few new and awesome t-shirts. I hear that's not taboo in France, wearing the same clothes, and your Dad and I do that all the time if we're not covered in snot or bananas... We really need to go to France. Really.

The biggest, most impressive thing about you these days? The fact that you are sleeping in your own room in your own bed until exactly 6 a.m. every day. We've tried moving you from our bed off and on for the past couple years, but you always found your way back. Guess you weren't entirely ready, but like everything else, you make it clear when you are.

Five and a half isn't lasting long. You've been making plans for your 6th birthday party for many months now. A planner! A girl after my own heart...

11 months old - Almost not a baby anymore...

 Oh my. Perhaps the best way to describe you the past month is busy, just plain busy. And sick. You haven't been 100% healthy for more than 24 hours in the past month, but all those fevers and the perpetually runny nose have barely slowed you down. (Thank god for Advil.) Because of the illnesses, though, you also have never cried so much in your life. You cried for over half an hour straight the other night; nothing would calm you until your daddy took you and walked you around before sleeping on the couch with you downstairs.

But like I said, you are busy. Right now you need to climb the stairs every five minutes to open and close the baby gate over and over. You even try and lift the handle to open it again. Your newest skill is going down the stairs on your bum and while you need to be held onto or you'll likely topple head first, you are very diligent at sitting for each stair. You can also climb up onto the bed using the rail. Big physical feats, but not much standing or walking alone more than a step yet.

You get into stuff. I tried to reply to an email my boss has sent me yesterday and two sentences in, I saw you'd taken the vaseline out of the diaper basket, popped off the lid and were squishing your hand into it. After I cleaned you up and went to finish replying, I heard the toilet flushing. Good times and very typical of what happens whenever I try to accomplish anything. Needless to say, there is little accomplishing.

You play with toys and many other things. All of our Fisher Price ones that went largely untouched in Lily's toddlerhood are very amusing to you. The house, the farm, the pirate ship, the school bus, the plane, all very popular. Right now you are playing with pots and wooden spoons. Then you go through an obstacle course of the counter stools. You keep yourself busy. Of course, when you have been feeling awful, you like mommy to hold you more than usual, but you are typically independent. Now you are throwing pennies around the front door from our pot o' money doorstop.

Aside from pushing the piano stool and every other stool or chair, you get around by walking against the walls. Very efficient and a little more stable. There are still a handful of slips and head bonks on the hardwood floor, but they are lessening...thankfully.

You laugh constantly. Mostly social laughing, but it goes to show your easy-going demeanor. You point and ask "Ga?" which means, "What's that?" Usually about lights and light switches. You love to push buttons on the phone, usually the one that hangs up. You get very agitated when the phone rings and no one answers it, so we just give you the phone. You've phoned more than a few people accidentally. You change the channel or crank up the volume on the t.v. since the remote is also a popular button-based device. It's so cute when you point it at the t.v. to see what will happen.

You have learned to show your distaste by throwing tantrums. You've probably only had one or two full-blown kicking and squealing fits, but that's enough. Yikes. And when Lily wants to carry you around and you won't have it, you reserve a special angry squeal to show her just how much you want to be put down. But ten minutes later, you'll reach out from your car seat to her when we're driving Nana to dialysis and Lily reaches back and you hold hands. Absolutely precious.

One more month of baby, then here we come toddler years!

10 months old - the double digit months

There are six teeth in that mouth now. Four on the top and two on the bottom.

This past month has really been a month of discovery. I swear you barely stopped to rest, despite being SO sick for a good two and a half weeks of it.

Napping has been a struggle all month, mostly because of all the sickness. For the last few days, though, we've pushed your nap to 12:30 p.m. for one good three hour nap. And so far, you're still ready to sleep by 7:30 p.m...which is good, though Lily always falls asleep first.

You sleep with your bum in the air.

Your crawling is fast and furious. You won't even be out of the kitchen (where I am) for ten seconds when I see you crawling up the stairs, already on the third step. You don't crawl like you're a soldier anymore, but like a real baby on your knees. More than half the time, you're on a mission. A musical mission and it's more than adorable.

You have to stand on your tippy toes to reach. Could anything be more sweet?

The kennel door and the baby gates are your fave things to play with. Open, close, open, close, hit yourself in the face as the door swings by, open, close... You get the idea.

You get into everything. I think we've finally stopped you from opening the warming drawer on the stove, but you can't get enough of the pantry, tea towel drawer and cutting board/kitchen scale cupboard. Sometimes you get careless and those chubby fingers get slammed inside. Ouch. I've also caught you climbing up the step stools in the bathrooms and peeking over the counter at the wondrous place of water, the sink.

All of those things – the crawling, the climbing, the stairs, the opening and closing – they all equal injuries, mostly to the head. You started crying one day in the living room and I rushed in to find your head tightly wedged between the couch leg and the end table leg. Another day you lost your footing and feel on your head on the hardwood floor; it even left a big bump for about six hours. I suppose it's just what happens as you learn.

Speaking of things you learn, your Dad and Lily used to think it was cute when you hit them in the face any time they were in reaching distance. They'd laugh at how sweet you were. Didn't stay funny for long, though. (Well, I still think it's cute but only because you rarely hit me and I'm the only one you'll "kiss" when I ask. A good ol' open-mouthed sloppy baby kiss.) You still automatically hit Lily in the face when she nears and honestly, she probably deserves it because she's always in your face or picking on you.

Though she loves to help you, too. And she is an excellent teacher when she puts her mind to it.

You point. The other day, I pulled out our family picture and said "Where's mama?" and you pointed right at me. Then your little finger went to Dad when I asked where he was, then to Lily! We were SO proud. Before you were born, I wasn't sure I'd be as amazed at every little thing you were going to do seeing as you are the second child, oft regarded as less photographed and less coddled than the first. And with Lily unwilling to be photographed these days, you are my muse.

The best thing about this month, though? You say mama and mom and mmmmmmmmm, mmmm – and you specifically say it to me or to Dad when you want me or hear my voice. Lily didn't say it until she was about 14 months old, so this is a treat. You say da da and once you said hi Daddy, but not with as much purpose and yearning as you say mama. Perhaps I'm biased...

9 months old - Officially out as long as in

Ah, you've reached the age of nine months which means you've been out of me for as long as you were in. You notice when I am away from you. You hear my voice and you seek me out. There was a day last week when no one else could hold you. You burst into tears every time I set you down, which is different from the crying every time anyone lays you down. Now, even when we get close to the bedroom at nap time, you cry. Not that napping is bad. You have been really consistent in sleeping at least two hours in the morning, then again in the afternoon. This is wonderful. I hope it never changes...though I realize I won't be so lucky and that you won't stay so little.

The big one this month. You crawl, but like a salamander or lizard. This has opened up a whole bunch of other things – like sitting from laying, pulling up to standing, standing alone, walking along furniture and generally getting into EVERYTHING YOU CAN GET YOUR HANDS ON.

 Oh yes, it was a very busy week when that all happened. From the second you crawled, it was like a flurry of non-stop physical activity. I'd heard that boys were busier; you've now proven that to be so. It is so adorable to put you down on the ground and watch you slither twenty feet to get to me, from the couch to the bathroom. Lily never did that. Just whined until we picked her up or helped her "walk" everywhere. So different you two are.

You share with us. Your food and toys. It is so endearing.

You understand and act upon simple commands such as "kiss" and "bonk" (head bonk) and "take your finger out of your mouth, please" when feeding you. But you don't talk or babble really. It's more a series of yells and screams and wild animal sounds.

You eat. Everything except for salmon...which is funny because even a semi-tart blood orange or a bowl of pureéd pineapple don't have you wincing. Quinoa with pumpkin and spinach or quinoa with berries or porridge with pumpkin and pumpkin pie spice. Lots of porridge with miscellaneous fruit and spices. Pasta and mashed tomatoes. Israeli cous cous simmered in vegetable broth. Blended avocado and mango (which I love because it's so creamy and sweet). We made carrot cake last week that you were quite fond of. Puffed wheat and just this morning, Cheerios. Pancakes, buns and bread are definitely a go-to food for you. I haven't given you a lot of meat because it kinda grosses me out, I suppose I should...but later.

For all that food you eat, you aren't really gaining weight. Now that's exactly like your sister. You trail off around six months and grow into what you've got for another six months. Which isn't bad, just kinda funny that you've gone from the 95th percentile to the 50th. You still have lots of juicy thigh to squeeze, so I'm not complaining. Not about anything about you.

Nine years

Yesterday was our ninth wedding anniversary. To celebrate, Lily passed her whale swimming lessons and Finn puked a little and stayed up past his bedtime. We then watched Law & Order: SVU and went to bed around 10 p.m. This is about as romantic as it gets these days, but a nice supper out without the kids will make up for it tomorrow.

8 months old – Oh, and Merry Christmas!

Today, Christmas day, you turn 8 months old. You have become such a little interactive human this month.

You are working on many new skills. You clapped your hands at Lily's concert – after being very surprised by everyone else clapping after each performance. You even sang along. Okay, it was a low moan, but the fact is you were trying to participate.

You look at books. Open the book, close the book. Open the book, close the book. Open the book, turn some pages. And you open cupboards. Open the cupboard, close the cupboard. Look at the grown-up holding you, smile and look for approval or praise.

You don't crawl yet, but if you want to get somewhere – like to the Christmas tree – you will roll there.

You have learned to show how much you want mama, usually in the form of lunging for me. I can't even walk by you when you're playing on the floor without you grabbing my leg. When you are in my arms, you smile and turn away from anyone else who puts out "uppy" arms for you. But you do give daddy love, too. When he got home from work the other day, you tried to crawl across the bed to see him.

Look! A new tooth on top there.

You provide ample comic relief by shaking your head when we ask you questions. Like the other day when Lily came home from the dentist we said, "Now that you have teeth, you'll get to go to the dentist soon." To which you responded no, no, no with head shaking. You also tend to say "no" to Lily the most, whether it's by shaking your head, pushing her away or by disapprovingly grunting at her.

Yes, you are a grunter. It's how you communicate a want. (Crying is still how you communicate your needs.) As soon as we sit down for supper, you immediately freak out and grunt with all your might in hopes that we will shove food into your mouth. So we do, whatever is on our plates. There's been lasagna noodles, chicken, stew, pineapples. You like it all. Especially toast. Sourdough to be exact.

You play piano and you do it with purpose. You travel up and down the keys in mad search of the high notes, then the low notes, then some light tickling of the ivorys followed by intense banging. You could be a prodigy. You also play ukulele; it's especially nice when you're banging the beaded garland from the Christmas tree over the strings.

And here you are pulling yourself up. Very talented.

You like to hit stuff. A lot. Bang. Bang, bang. That's the sound of your toys hitting each other. It's fun to watch, but we have to be sure not to sit too close.

You have lots of hair, but you scratch little cuts in your head when trying to relax.

You are overall a brave, beautiful boy who sometimes sleeps with the covers over your head so we have to find you when you wake up, but we're always happy to find you there.