That boy is somethin’ else.
Wants to potty train. Tells me many times a day “I need to potty.” After about the fifth time I tell him back, “no, you don’t.” I know, I’m sure I’m breaking all those parenting rules, but c’mon, people. He hasn’t actually done anything in the potty yet, just likes sitting there. And he does make the connection that he just went in his diaper so now is the time to go sit on it. I usually don’t mention the potty until they’re about 2 1/2, but if he wants to take it on all by himself, well, then be about it.
He likes to accessorize. Note the wintery hat. He does a little squinty thing that is so darn cute I could melt.
He has the 2 year old fits down pat. “Give me that toy you’re not supposed to have” is met with a violent throwing of it across the room. When gets ahold of something he shouldn’t have and realizes you want it, if there is an escape route to be had he does this little lightfooted run as fast as he can while giggling the whole way, knowing that at the end of the run is a hand-popping reprimand. But the run is just too much fun to worry about the consequence just yet.
He loves to cook. Calls every spice in the kitchen “sugar”. Wants to “mix”. He pulls the chair over to help. He asks to “press dis” to the coffee starting button each morning.
When one of the older kiddos opens the door to go out he goes running to get his shoes and says, “shoe sahn.” (shoes on)
Sings happy birthday. Often. And well. For that matter, he also sings just about everything.
Still says, “I onna nuh-se.” But increasingly less. Says it less, doesn’t want it less.
Aggravates the mess out of everybody, particularly his sister.
Because we prayed so much for friends of ours that had twins recently he calls all babies he sees by the daddy’s name “dat mister donnie” to any random baby.
Loves jumping and running and giggling.
But this next part takes the cake. Unreal, really.
Talks up a storm. Remember how he wouldn’t talk. Not at all. No mama no dada, no nothing. And then just like the 6 month rolling over debacle that 3 months later let loose the running flood gates. When he started talking, he really started talking. Full sentences. Meaningful stuff. He answers questions and asks his own. He waits for the answers and comprehends what you’re saying. I take it for granted because it’s just our norm right now. And it was the norm with our first child. Not so with those 2 middle ones. If I said once, I said a bazillion times to my Middlest “use your words.” Oh, I love that one – he could hit a baseball at 18 months, but talking – not so much. My girl talked, but it was different. She mainly talked to hear herself talk. Just a constant commentary on the world. If we could’ve understood her I’m sure we could’ve solved all our earthly problems. So back to the cake-taking part.
I’ve been counting to five with him, singing the alphabet song, teaching him itsy-bitsy spider, asking him old he will be on his birthday – the usual 2 year old drills. When asked what his name is he answers. But not with anything that sounds like his name. “Bi-Maa” What? I asked him again, “What’s your name?” Met with, “Bi-Maa” For over a week now, every single time he is asked by anybody that’s his answer. Disturbing, to say the least. He can say his name if prompted. And says it clearly. But when asked open-endly “Bi-Maa” How have I failed this severely that my almost 2 year old doesn’t know his own name. I finally called my oldest and my husband over last night and said, “Please tell me what he’s saying.” We started asking him. “Bi-Maa. Bi-Maa. Bi-Maa.” So we all started guessing names that sound kind of like that. Nemo? “No.” Beekah? (the name of one our stuffed animals? “No.” Beeman? “No.” Meeman? “No.” On and on we guessed, each met with a very clear head shake and “no.” Then Daddy guessed “Big Man?” Squinty face, big smile and “Uh huh! Bi-Maa!” Are you kidding me?! I sometimes call him that but not all the time. And I sometimes call his older brothers that, but again, not constantly. We laughed and laughed. We asked him over and over, “What’s your name?” Each time met with a big smile and “Bi-Maa!”
There you have it – a self-appointed nickname at the age of 22 months. I’ll go with it. The other kids this morning are all over it calling him BigMan at every turn and he giggles and says it back. Oh my. I’m never without surprises. Kids are absolute blessings!!
Baby-est consider thyself renamed “BigMan.” Thanks for lettin’ us know.
