Dear Benevolent Dictator --
Last Friday, you turned 26 months old. And really, I can't tell a huge difference between this and last month developmentally. Except for the fact that you've discovered the word, "Mine."
"This is mine," I keep hearing you say. Even if you've just glanced at an object, you'll rip it away from another little kid and proclaim, "THIS. IS. MINE." You're starting to sound like the seagulls in Finding Nemo.
You've gotten more acrobatic. Right now it appears that your favorite way to see the world is upside-down. Many times you come to us with a wicked gleam and then ask to hold our hands. Then you climb up our legs and try and flip over. It's quite an impressive sight from someone who's less than three feet tall.
This month, you spent a lot of time with Grandma, because your parents headed off to Gen Con for some "alone" time (You'll understand the significance of that when you're older). What I thought was funny is that I warned your Grandma all about the antics that you pull with me and when we talked, she said you were a perfect angel. Which doesn't surprise me really -- you do have one hell of a public face. Either that or she was a hell of a lot happier dealing with your every whim than I can be at times.
During the time we were gone, it was also apparent that your palate skews towards what I would call comfort food. And hot dogs. But your big food obsession is tomatoes -- so much so that you're eating green ones off of the vine. So you and I are pretty similar in food tastes. I just have to remember to lessen the amount of food on your plate. While you have a varied palate, you're eating less.
One time you scared the shit out of me when you refused to eat breakfast. Apparently your toys were a hell of a lot of a more fun than breakfast. While I know on a rational level that you'd be fine and would eat when your hungry, I can't explain why the hell I started following you around outside with a container of yogurt and a spoon.
Thanks to that, I've learned one important thing -- You'll eat when you're hungry. And if you're bored with what I serve, you won't eat. Apparently you're not a big breakfast person like your parents.
I think that the biggest thing I learned from that is to follow your lead sometimes. If you don't want to go outside and play, that's alright. If you just want to take your time and put on your shoes, that's cool. And even though it can be aggravating while I tally up to-do lists in my head while you debate between the different sandals you have, when you look at me and say, "Xie, xie mumma," it makes my heart melt.
Seriously kiddo, those are the moments that make parenting worth it.