Waylon had a nice summer. I know this because a) I was there, we did lots of things and b) he is two and would be content to shred toilet paper all day.
The kid is amazing. I know all parents say this, but if you spend all your time with a two year old–your only saving grace is to believe they are amazing. Otherwise it would be endless days with a raving lunatic and that, my friend, is a dangerous game.
Two year olds are funny. They are also exhausting and impossibly loud. Have you ever tried to teach a toddler to whisper? You end up with an ear full of spit and degenerative nerves.
They also love to help. It is endearing and patience testing. Picking vegetables, vacuuming the floor, folding the wash, cooking dinner—they are right there, squashing and untidying and sneezing into the brownie batter. God give me strength.
It’s my peekaboo! (it’s a sprinkler)
Yook, it’s the ocean! (it’s sand in a baseball diamond).
Yook, a fat chicken! (it’s a turkey).
Head you (hold me).
I’m picking my pahyayos (I’m ripping out all the unripe tomatoes).
Mommy has a bahgina, daddy has a peep (things not to say in the grocery store).
Daddy’s practicing be a doctah (dad is probably botching a poor woman’s vaginal stitches).
Where’s-a my cup/tigey/pinwheel/lawn mower (I lose everything).
Mommy find it? (you are my slave).
My baby sistah in there (and she will be mine).
Daddy misses you (dad misses me).
Watch out people, mommy’s here! (things we teach our kids to amuse ourselves).