Monday, August 15, 2011

MY SON

Mon fils.
My son.
Where has the time gone?
It feels like just yesterday you were a baby.
Cooing, kicking and nursing with the best of them.
Now, my son...

Now my son, you have opinions on everything!
You test the limits with every chance you get and revel in the thrill of rebellion.
You adore anything that has wheels or flies in the sky.
You have perfected the soundful art of:
1. The choo-choo
2. The fire truck
3. The police car (because you know the fire truck and police car are different)
4. The jet
Such talent. You amaze me.
You also swing between the throes of loving mommy and daddy dearly one minute and being completely disgusted with us the next.
You talk, until talking can be talked no more, making our mind spin in circles with questions of "Why Mommy? What happened Daddy" or, our personal favorite "Huh?"
You smile and you scowl.
You repeat what we say ( good or bad-- oh dear).
You say things that we have never said to you before. For example, today in WalMart you kept telling mommy she was a "Bad Boy!" and I know for a fact your father or I have or would never call you that.
Where did you hear that?
You giggle and belly laugh, you fake laugh and you cry.
You whine and you scream and you cry big crocodile tears whilst in the entrapment of your time out location.
You don't like timeout, but do tend to push the limits until there is nowhere else to go but the timeout wall.
You go bravely, sometimes you need to be taken there.
And then you sit and wail, sometimes you yell at us and tell us to "Go Away!"
But when your time out is over and we come in to talk to you about your behavior, you always calm down and give big hugs before going back out to play again.
You snuggle and you cuddle.
You sing and you dance.
You love singing the "Winnie the Pooh: song and have just recently learned to wiggle your bottom like a puppy dog tail.
You aren't potty trained, but sit on the potty like a champ.
You are so tall. Most people, having just met you, think you're four-years-old!
You are just so tall.
You have a big smile and love saying "CHEESE" for the camera.
You love playing with friends, but still have trouble sharing.
You like watching VeggieTales and Thomas the Train.
Your favorite meal of all time is a whole wheat waffle with peanut butter and syrup.
You refuse to eat vegetables no matter how hard we try.
You stall finishing your food by asking for hugs and kisses and needing more water.
Your legs are permanently bruised and scratched from running and playing.
You are my first born.
You take my breath away with each new day.
I can't believe you're nearly two and a half. Where has our time gone?
Mon fils.
My son.



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