Dear Ikey,

Today you are two and a half. Yikes! You’re hilarious and maddening, changing back and forth between the two minute by minute.


You love Spider-Man. I still somewhat regret letting you see the cartoon (a leeeeeeeetle violent but you insist it’s not scary), but it is your FAVORITE and so you spend most of your upright hours running and sliding (a la Risky Business) and crashing and repeating, because SPIDER MAN FALLS DOWN AND HE STANDS BACK UP!

You do not like long sleeves, which is unfortunate given that it’s now December. In Ohio. But I love the way you constantly push them up past your elbows, like you are forever about to begin a dirty job.

You don’t seem to have much interest in potty training for real, but you’ll sit on your little potty most of the time when asked, and even occasionally have some success – though you get so excited after a drop or two that you have to stand up and inspect it and tell me what shape it’s made in the bowl (spoiler, usually an oval). Thing I never thought I’d be saying so often: YAY, NOW TRY AGAIN TO GET ALLLLLLLL YOUR PEE OUT THIS TIME. For a while I think your local grandparents were pushing it a bit much for your comfort level, probably something along the lines of “babies wear diapers,” so every time I called you or asked if you’re a Big Boy, you said NO. JUST A WITTLE BABY. Lately you seem a bit more comfortable with that designation. You’re done nursing. Last time you asked was Thanksgiving night, after a long, long, fun but napless day at Aunt Susie & Uncle Chris’s house. Wasn’t much worth it at that point, for which I’m a little sorry, but the gradual way you weaned was just about perfect. I’m somewhat sad to no longer have you as a nursling, allowing me to think of you more as a baby than a little boy, but you’ve come around to allowing and even asking for more hugs, and if you’re really ready for comfort I can rock you back and forth like a slow dance. Getting to snuggle you this way is just about my favorite thing in the world right now. I hope you won’t grow tired of it anytime soon.

You don’t seem to have a strong recollection from last year of what Christmas festivities are all about, but you’re looking forward to it in a general sort of just-learned-this-word way, and love to see the BEAUTIFUL CHRISTMAS LIGHTS and the BEAUTIFUL CHRISTMAS TREES. I’m sure the sight of wrapped gifts will ring a bell from your birthday, and I can’t wait to see you tear into the few things we’ve got for you. It’ll be another chance for you to practice the manners I’ve been trying to drill into your vocabulary. You do pretty well with Please, though sometimes Thank you and You’re welcome make amusing switches. For a long time after every burp or fart I heard I’d ask what that was, prompting you to say Excuse me. Now if I don’t actually hear it happen, you are quick to grin and ask WHAT WAS THAT?!?!

You assign phrases to certain people. One time I called you Punkin, and you quickly corrected me: NO. DADDY CALLS ME THAT. When I asked what Mama calls you, you were equally quick with SUGAR. Only Uncle Chris is allowed to ask about PAAAYYAAAAMAS! And only Grandpa can say Sorry, Charlie. You’re so funny. We love you so much.


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