We probably could have titled the last month as "Mr. Personality" month or "Elliott finds his voice...a little bit" month. It seems that my kid, go figure, just doesn't know when to stop talking. I think he says "mom" and "dada" at least 256 times a day, usually when we're right in front of him. He is convinced that during the day, Ross is in the basement and is always in search of the guy who goes to work.
When Ross is gone, or anything/anyone is gone Elliott asks for them, see's they aren't around, he shrugs his shoulders and says in mumbled baby talk, "I don't know".
Elliott, my boy, you are a man on a mission. You must be busy all day long exploring, climbing, talking, watching, and interacting with others...and swiffering the kitchen floor and helping me fold the laundry. You are starting to sit at your little red table for snacks, and we've actually made it through all three hours of church - for the first time since you were a tiny baby, with out tears and fits.
This kid of mine makes me smile every single day because he is so full of life and happy to be around and hanging out with me. Yes, he loves grandparents and his Auntie Haley, Uncle Willie, and Cousin Meranda more than me most of the time, but it's okay. I still get to rock him to sleep at night and give him kisses when he isn't looking.
This month we went to the aviary and you screamed during the bird show scaring everyone around us. We've been swimming lots of times at Great Grandma's house and we went to Las Vegas. The road trip - though long - was the best for you. No more planes if we can help it, I think - you did so well in the car with all your toys, your own seat, and a dad who was willing to sit in the back with you and watch movies over and over again.
You can run, twirl in a circle, almost jump, drive your truck around the house, eat a hamburger all by yourself, and dip all your food in special sauces. Yes you are a dipper. Ranch dip, salsa, fry sauce, frosty ice cream treats...you are a dipper my boy. You don't care about the combination of foods or how messy you get. Most of the time it makes me gag, but you seem to enjoy yourself so I just won't look.
You have finally added the sound of a monkey to your animal menagerie and you do this strange chicken thing with your arms. When I get "mad" at you, we've got a little routine where I shake my fist and say "see this! See this! Pow, right in the kisser"...at which time you pound your fists together and "punch" yourself in the face. You also have developed a secret handshake involving the slapping of five, knuckles, and some crazy elbow action.
As usual, you keep me on my toes and I love you lots and lots. Even if you don't sleep. But, we're working on that!
1 comment:
ohhhhhhhh the blanky binky pic in the chair is the most precious......
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