2.5 Years

I was thinking the other day about what I did before you came along.  Whatever it was, I must not miss it if I can barely remember it.  That was only 2.5 years ago, but it seems more like eons ago.  I've always felt like I had an old soul, and now it just feels wiser.  You've re-invigorated my life and gave it a new sense of purpose which sometimes causes me to worry.  I worry I may lose myself in a world of choo-choo trains, dinosaurs, and space guns, but in the end the final prize of a World's Best Mom tea cup is just too alluring!  I complain a lot about how tired I am, but I never tire of your face... especially your huge, enviable doll eyes.  You're my crazy kid, and I love you.

Here are your 2.5 year tidbits:

• You're data in support of the terrible twos statistics.  You have a regular temper tantrums and you love to say "No" or "Nononononoooooo"!  One time I kept asking you if you wanted rice (because you're so flighty with your responses) and on the third time you said in the most annoyed tone, "Noooooo!" and a sourpuss face.  I swear I had a split-second flash of a teenager.  All it was missing was the infamous eye-roll. And suddenly I was THAT mom.
• You love your Kindle Fire.  You and your dad can have vegging out contests on the couch with each of your tablets in hand.  Most of the time you fight with your dad for his Ipad because everyone knows that the Ipad is just plain cooler.  Dad usually ends up on your Kindle.
• You're more accepting of bathtime.  Earlier this year I got you to accept sitting in a bathtub without crying bloody murder.  That is - until I poured water on your head (being careful not to wet your face). Let the wailing commence!  Lately we've reached a somewhat happy medium where you're sort of calm in the tub, but you won't sit anymore.  You MUST stand for your entire bath.  Teenage thoughts enter my mind again.  This boy is meant to take showers instead of baths.  If only we can get him to wet his head.
• Two is your favorite number.  Is it because you're two?  I don't know.  But you use it to count "Two, Two, Go!" and you use it to describe a second item when there are two of them.  It's awesome.  I'm trying to get you to respond to the question "How old are you?" but you've been non-cooperative (Please see the first bullet).  Maybe by the time I succeed, you'll be three...
•  You are obsessed with dinosaurs, Dino Dan on Nickelodeon, Godzilla, and sharks (yeah - I have such a boy)
• Tooth brushing is a daily struggle but it becomes World War 3 when I focus on the top teeth.  You say, "No up. Down!"  I haven't checked but I think your molars came in because you like to pull the front collar of the shirt you are wearing and bite on it until the front of your shirt is soaked.  Your favorite T-shirt (Go-Diego-Go) now has a hole.  
• You scream "Mama!" so that I watch and respond to every little thing that you do.  
• We had a small bout where you fought us to go to bed. We tried lots of tactics like tricking you into bed, making a game out of it, and just plain leaving you in the family room.  One night you were having such a major temper tantrum that I tried the unspeakable:  treating you like a human being and talking to you!  I got down on my knees to your eye-level and began to rationalize why it was bedtime.  And you know what?  It worked!  Only for about a week, but your tantrums were never as intense again.  Nowadays we've found that sticking to our guns and having you cry it out, with a little bit of us rationalizing with you has made bedtime a little more palatable.
• You are a Daddy's boy and your dad gloats about it
• Sometimes you just bust out in this hysterical laugh that seems forced and fake (and a little nerdy).  Like yesterday when you rolled your car window down and stuck your hand so that it was flying in the wind. You kept forcing the laugh, which in turn made me crack up, so you forced it even more, which cracked me up even more.  We were forcefully laughing all the way home.
• You wear a size 9 shoe and all your 2T pants are floods.  I need to buy 3T.
• You like to ride your tricycle around the house.
• You love your little brother but you also use him as a scapegoat and he sometimes annoys you.  "Did someone go caca?"  Diego: "Brother, caca!"; "Diego, do you want to take a bath?"; "No!  Bubble brother!".  The other day you hauled your brother in his walker all the way to the kitchen and left him there so he would stop annoying you while you played with your toys.  Problem solved.
• You've been going to weekly speech therapy for about 6 months now.  The therapist got you to stop saying "Gah" for "Yes"  now you say "Ya" except when you fall down and you're stunned.  Are you OK?  "Gah!"
• The picture below is mostly for me to compare when your little brother is 2.5 but these are all the words you know how to say (although you understand so much more):  

I swear I didn't mean to highlight Row 22 on purpose, but yeah it's an important word.

Enjoying every crazy minute of motherhood thanks to you! - Shirley