Twenty-Four Month Update.

The last of the monthly updates. Let me repeat myself...the last. Deep breath; it will be okay. Before I get to how Small Fry is doing, here's how I'm doing: SO MUCH BETTER THAN WHEN FAWN WAS HITTING THESE MILESTONES. ????? I know, makes no sense knowing this is my last baby. But, I also know all the joy and fun ahead. I know the excitement (and dare I say ease) of a big kid. So bring it on! While I will always look back on Small Fry's first days, weeks, months, and years with nostalgia and longing, I know that the best is truly yet to come.

Small Fry is every bit of two years old. His favorite words are "no" and "not." Example:

Me: Ooh, it feels cold outside. (When it's 20 degrees out.)
Small Fry: It NOT feel cold outside. It feel good.

Repeat this two-line conversation in different contexts throughout the day. He's throwing his fair share of fits, but they're not too bad; and, I know that this stage doesn't last forever. Like most two-year olds, the things that make him the maddest are (1) changing location when the timing doesn't suit him and (2) taking things away from him. As for taking things away, nothing makes him more mad than taking his Alabama hat or cowboy boots. They must be on almost constantly or he is discontent. (Thank goodness his sweet teachers embrace his craziness and let him wear his hat -- and occasionally sunglasses or one of those rubber band bracelets -- to school.)

He continues to eat much better -- what a relief! And, in the nutrition department I'm also relieved to say he weaned with relative ease. Two years is my (and Buck's) cutoff. Small Fry has been asking to nurse some since weaning, but has pretty much carried on. And, he's sleeping much better at night. I thought this transition would tear my heart to shreds seeing as though I've been pregnant or nursing a baby for all but five months since April of 2008. But, it was time, and I am at complete peace with this new stage.

He got another haircut this month. It was a disaster. He screamed that it hurt almost the entire time -- poor Mr. Eddie, our barber, was such a sport. But the little stinker must have been putting on a show because he has been playing "barber" ever since -- getting out his comb and pretending to comb and cut my hair. We also went to the dentist -- another disaster. Screamed bloody murder. Not having any of it. But, he has sixteen teeth and the last of the molars should be making their appearance soon.

Small Fry is still such a physical little guy -- he loves to run, jump and dance. He's doing better at sitting for activities such as reading, art and puzzles. He loves the park -- especially the swings. I think he would let someone push him in a swing all day, every day. He's also very verbal -- talking constantly and in LONG sentences. He loves to repeat what someone says to him...over and over and over.

He's very into being a "big boy." He loves that he now has a blanket and pillow in his crib. He loves that he gets to eat vitamin gummies with Fawn instead of the yucky liquid gummies. He makes me sing "Rock-a-bye big boy" instead of "Rock-a-bye baby". Too funny -- but he is proud to be big! We are so proud of him too. He is a total love bug and his cuddles, kisses and hugs can make any problem evaporate. He's also fiercely loyal to Buck, Fawn (his "Bubby"), and me. And, he's just the source of endless joy and countless smiles in our house. We are absolutely in love with our big boy and so blessed that God chose us to shepherd him through this life.