Henry is a jaw-dropping 23 months old (as of 10 days ago, what can I say, I've been busy) and, at the risk of cursing our family to years of horrendous behavior, I've got to say that the kid is completely killing it these days. Like, seriously in danger of being abducted by strangers levels of cuteness. He is a total chatterbox and has a LOT to say about the important issues of the day, although at least half of his insightful commentary is still unintelligible. He's also quite fond of busting out into a very dramatic stage whisper from time to time. He has a major case of "happy feet" he breaks out for dancing, football, and general gleefulness. He loves dancing around and "singing," preferably into one of our echo microphones and even more preferably accompanied by his brothers. Childhood classics like "where is thumbkin" and "twinkle twinkle" still feature prominently, but I overheard him singing Queen's "we will, we will rock you," complete with the dum-dum-DUM part, to himself in his crib one night earlier this week. Oh, and the bustling! Why walk when you can trot, and why leave your shoes askew when you can carefully line them up just-so and then methodically fill them with carefully selected pebbles? He currently loves sending cars shooting down his race track, playing and reading all about trains and pointing out numbers anywhere he can find them. At bedtime, he makes his rounds, tipping his head in for a kiss and then pressing his entire body in for a full-contact hug, before pulling back to wave and cheerily exclaim, "night night owie! night night brendie!" and bustling off to his room for stories. He insists on sleeping with a digital clock in his crib (his only regret is it's not a star wars clock like his brothers), and arranging his (many) dolls just so in a sort of blockade formation around his head, before contentedly collapsing on his cherished bunny and waiting for his blanket to be tucked in around him. He is delighted to go to bed, and the only time I hear desperate calls from him are when his car/train/book has fallen down the side of the crib or he's thrown his blanket and/or bunny out of the crib and then immediately regretted that decision. I come back in, remind him not to throw things, rearrange things to his liking, and he promptly flops back down with a huge sigh of relief. This kid, I tell you. He's just aces.
Although he's still not super into the whole picture in a chair thing, since it takes away from more important things like "read stooorrryy!! mommy sit in green chair! moooommmyyyyy!!"
The young sirs, 23-months young:
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