Today he loved me all day. When I came home from my barworks class I opened the door – hands totally full – and he started jumping up and down with a huge grin on his face. Thomas walked up to me, grabbed the mail out of my hand and, instead of just throwing the pile on the floor, he placed it carefully on a chair and then crawled into my arms, at which point I just dropped all my things so that I could give him a great big bear hug.
It felt so good! It melted away all the days of his crying and stomping feet. It was my Little Man showing his Momma some love – and that puts me in Heaven!
Our little guy is quickly becoming his own little man, with his own little quirks and habits. While he still does not speak like his older sister, my sister insists she could understand the words he has been communicating to us. Through the “ba’s” and “ca-caw’s” we can now decipher the “a-gahn” (all gone), “wa go?” (where’d it go?), “Aba?” (Isabel), “Ka-kou” (thank you), and most importantly, “mo!” (more.) His yeses are still a loving thrusting of his entire body and no is still a violent and endless shake of his head. And if he ever wants anything he walks with purpose, while looking over his shoulder to make sure that you are following him.
Reading is getting a little bit easier with him, although he still prefers to just check out the various animals, vehicles and celestial bodies over having you actually read the words. And that’s okay. I just love the way he will grab a book and walk into your lap, turn around and csuccs, or sit, so that I can flip through the pages with him.
While he does a lot of this, his little fetish still persists. Life just isn’t the same without sticking his hand down the widened neck holes of his shirts, caressing his chest. The best is when he becomes adamant, or angry, and he’ll stomp or stand up tall on his high chair and just stuff his hand down his shirt. “Huh! Take that!” And, as time has gone on, he has slowly become known in our family as our Little Napoleon, lovingly named this way by my very own Momma. For short, we call him Nap-csi, and even Craig has caught on to his new dictatorial name.
He also has a plethora of facial expressions; the look of surprise among one of my favorites. In my opinion he is giving his big Sis a run for her money in the expressiveness department. My thinking is since he can’t communicate as clearly as he’d like he will make sure you understand by the look on his face.
The other day I learned he now knows how to fake laugh and cry and it is absolutely hilarious. A few nights ago he started blowing raspberries on my burgeoning belly and then would suddenly throw his head back and scream a very strong “Ahhhhhhh!” kind of laugh. It wasn’t his normal giggle but it was definitely an outburst of pleasure at the tooting raspberry sounds he produced. Then I started laughing hysterically, which fueled him even more and we continued laughing hard and blowing raspberries for the next ten minutes. Since then, when he wants to be theatrical he will pull out his new laugh.
Eating with him is still a hit or miss and mostly a miss. I’m not sure how he does it, but he can go two meals without eating more than a couple of bites. It tortures me some but I’m learning to “keep calm and carry on.” When he actually starts stuffing food down his mouth, boy, am I a happy Momma.
I hope to remember the way he pitter-patters when he runs; I hope to remember the way he gives hugs (leans in) and kisses (big, wet open mouth); I hope to remember the way he laughs with his whole body when I say, “Bleeeh!”; and I hope to remember the way he tries to pummel me when he catches me sitting down (his face turning red if I actually put up any resistance.) And I should remember to take more videos.
With that, FINALLY, an announcement! (But I am guessing most of you know by now.)
Just 19.5 weeks to go! (Sounds better than 20.)