He loved the presents again. Thanks to the grandparents and aunts who celebrated with us and showered him with gifts.
Though his favorite presents may have been the balloons which provided days of entertainment.
He wouldn’t eat it though. Turns out Evan hates cake. I coaxed one bite into his mouth which he promptly spat out. Here’s him scraping the last few crumbs off his tongue so he can hand them back to me. I tried it again the next day to see if maybe he was just tired, but nope. He actually screamed at me when I put that bite in his mouth. If he doesn’t like cake by next year I might have to put a candle on top of a stack of Pringles.
Stuff about Evan at 2:
He loves the Christmas tree. He wants to kiss it every night before bed and I randomly find small toys, spools of thread and balls of paper balanced on the branches.
He’s still a stubborn eater. I usually have to force the first bite of anything new into his mouth. Then, if he likes it, he’ll eat, but if he hates it, he’ll spit it out into his hand and offer it back to me.
Whenever we give him a snack, he’ll always ask for more so we taught him “last one” to stop the fits he had when we wouldn’t give him more. Now, when we tell him last one, he carries the cracker, M&M, cookie or whatever, around with him and it takes him forever to eat it.
E vanhas a preposterous number of toys , but his favorite is still a strand of Marde Gras beads. I don’t understand the fascination.
His favorite meal is a toss-up between spaghetti and black beans, by which I mean a big pile of black beans and nothing else.
He still points with his middle finger
Evan gets on kicks where he wants a song over and over again, but his most consistent favorite is Happy Family. We have to sing through every member of the family (grandparents, great grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and dogs) before he allows us to stop.
He gets a huge grin on his face and shakes in excitement whenever Ryan kisses me. He runs over for a kiss of his own… but just from Dad.
When he gets something stuck to the bottom of his foot, he shrieks and he won’t move from the spot until we come and rescue him.
Evan knows all his letters by sight, name and sound. He knows his numbers up to 20, though about half the time eleven is oneteen and twelve is twoteen, etc. We’re working on the twenties but so far the best we can get from him is 21=one one, 22=two two, 23= three three, etc. He also knows most of the basic shapes and colors.
Evan is obsessed with numbers. Ob. Sessed. He finds them everywhere and gets really excited when he spots one. When we read books, he ignores the pictures and reads the page numbers. When he’s falling asleep, we can often hear him counting to himself. And, when he’s showing off, he counts (according to Ryan) “as if he’s trying to convince the president to go to war.”
He’s still super clumsy. He doesn’t know how to catch himself in a fall and so usually ends up on his head. He really scares us on the stairs.
One day he discovered that all the doors in our house have a small piece of masking tape with a number (1-9) on the hinge. Ryan and I lived here 4 years without ever noticing this. 20 times a day he begs us to walk him through the house opening and closing doors so he can see his numbers. He thinks all doors should have numbers on them and tries the same game at every house he visits, but since there are no numbers on their hinges, he just points to them and chants “all gone.” He gets nearly excited about this version of the game as the one with numbers. Sylvia put numbers on the hinges of her doors so whenever we go over there the game continues. Grrrrrr Silly Baba....
He loves looking at the moon and asks to see it every night before bed.
He loves water and even loves it dripping down his face. When we pour water over his head to rinse the shampoo off, he requests “again” again and again. He also bends clear over to dunk his head in the water and then sits up to let it run down his face.
Here are some of my favorite mispronunciations:
Soup = poop
Applesauce = peepeesauce
Cookie Monster = kiesterBig Bird = Big Turd
Yee Haw = Hoo Haw
Beckie Grandma = Bwekybweckybwecky Baba
We sure love our baby boy and feel blessed to be his parents.
2 comments:
cute cupcakes! cute baby, uh, I mean big boy! cute mispronounciations! He's a cute little boy! I'm embarrassed. I've had a present sitting on our counter, wrapped even, since December and I still haven't mailed it! I'm a failure!
You're no failure! Failure is sometimes remembering your kids' birthdays and sometimes not... Sighs
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