two three

I meant to get to the 23 month post all day yesterday, and all day today, and all evening, and now it's 10.45 and it seems that everything I wanted to write about what Jake has been up to this month is out the door.

He is big and smart and crazy and obstinate and persistant and mechanical and charming and so effing cute that I hate to be apart from him.

I checked on him in the middle of the night sometime last week and he opened one eye and said "i love you, mommy. sleep tight" and then held up Bear so I could kiss it.

He says "robot" when he means "polka dot". Every time. "oooh, robots! i see robots!". Next time you see polka dots, picture robots. Like on your grandma's head scarf. It's usually potentially awesome.

Have you ever seen Overboard? Remember that little kid who talks like Pee Wee Herman? Jake figured out that he can make different voices happen and runs around sounding exactly like that. It's hilarious because he curls his top lip over his top teeth and lowers his bottom lip and sticks out his bottom teeth and furls his eyebrows. He also speaks really low or really high, and he gets such a kick out of it all that it is easy to overlook how annoying it sounds.

Jake is getting a bit picky at mealtime, but you can't go wrong with pizza or pasta. Applesauce, yogurt, green beans, and most fruit won't be turned down either. Cheese is losing favor.

I think all the teeth are in until he gets a bit older. They are the tiniest little teeth you can imagine. I hope his permanent ones are little too. Mine are huge. Like horses'.

Jake is neurotic. Everything has to be clean and closed. He helps me keep the house straightened up, which is why I agreed to bring him home from the hospital in the first place. Because I knew some day, some day I could use him.

The boy is giant and I can't wait to get him weighed and measured next month. Most of his 2T shirts are short around the waist but they are so baggy and fit him perfectly in the arms. He is all torso like his dad. Who he calls Dave. There's nothing funnier than a baby at the bottom of the stairs, calling up: "hey dave! what're you doing?" or running from his room to the banister if there is a noise downstairs and shouting: "hey dave! you okay, dave?". Jake's "v"'s are kinda garbley and Dave comes out "Dafe", like "chafe". Unfortunately, grown ups talk like that in these parts. I hope this isn't the beginning of an accent. "Lora" comes out "Noah". But Jake calls me "Mommy" most of the time, sometimes "Mum". It makes him sound very mature. "Dafe" is starting to phase out per Dave's insistence. But I got a good three months laugh out of it.

I think Jake will be in 2T pants for quite some time. He is really skinny, and I don't think he has gained any weight since his 18 month appointment. According to our scale at least. But our scale is from KMart, and if it is registering a couple pounds light rest assured no one here will fix it. I don't know what I'll do for pants if and when Jake ever gets out of diapers. No movement there, btw. Jake asks to go upstairs to the potty, but never does much when he's up there.

His feet are bricks. Size 7 bricks. I can wear his socks without stretching them beyond salvation. It's scary. I bought a few 3T t-shirts for summer and held them up to me to fold them and was creeped out because I know there are a few novelty t's in the back of my drawer that are practically the same size. You know the ones. Finlandia and Budweiser give them out at bars.

It's crazy to think that I only have a one year old for a few more weeks. I want to skip work every day and sit and watch him run amok.