Half An Elephant’s Gestational Period.

Nine months. That’s how long it has been since I was posting regularly.

Nine whole months!

Hmmm, which means that Ollie was only 17 months old when I stopped. Do you realize how much can happen with a kid in that time frame? MInd-boggling growth!! He went from a teetering, tentative toddler, who could recall the name of a few people and objects, to a full blown couch diving, running full speed ahead, “I want to tackle, Daddy!” boy!

And the language on this kid! Talk about being skipper of the S.S. Pottymouth! Just kidding; that isn’t actually true, although we have had some pretty funny incidents when he has repeated some phrases that he probably shouldn’t say. LIke the time Jeremy stated firmly, “This is BULLSHIT!” about something that wasn’t working the way he wanted, only to have Ollie start marching up and down the stairs chanting, “BULLSHIT, BULLSHIT, BULLSHIT,” the whole time. Or the time when I jammed my finger on his car seat and shortly after heard his sweet voice say, “Son of bitsh, mommy!” (In case you are wondering, yes, we did laugh our asses off…silently and out of view. Jeremy was able to keep it together in front of Ollie, but as we know from my lack of a “that’s not funny face,” I had to leave the room.)

Alright, I am just going to come out and say what I am sure every parent thinks about their child.

My kid is a goddamn genius.

He “reads” aloud (I am pretty sure it is just from memory at the moment) “Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?” by Eric Carle, “The Little Engine That Could!” by Watty Piper, and “Bears,” by Maurice Sendak. CUTEST. THING. EVER!! I have it on video and as soon as I can upload it to my computer I will post it here for you. I am telling you, you will want to lay down a tarp first because your heart is going to melt all over your feet.

You know the best part about a kid who is wanting to learn new words and phrases? You can get them to repeat the funniest shit! No, I am not talking about the profanity. As funny as I said that would be, I didn’t actually want him to do it at such a young age. Do I care if Oliver swears? Not really, I just want him to understand that there is a time and a place for it. Anyways, what I am talking about are phrases that you WANT him to repeat.

Here are some of the family favorites:

“Hey! What the deuce?!”
“Douchebag”
“Hey sucka! You gotta big fat floop flo!”

I may just have to upgrade my wordpress account so that I can start posting the audio clips I have of all of these. He has the most darling little voice!

In addition to his new language skills, he can identify every letter of the alphabet in both the lower and upper case forms. He can also identify numbers 0 – 10, and he can count to 17 on his own and higher, if coaxed. He knows every color of the rainbow and more. And on top of all that, he can point out a circle, triangle, square, diamond, oval, crescent, octagon, rectangle, and star. When we are out running errands he likes to point these out as we come across them. A trip to the store would not be complete without hearing, “Mommy, wook! A byyooo stah!” or “Hey, mommy, wook! A lellow soh-cle!”

When you repeat back what he said, “Oh you saw a yellow circle?!”, he nods his little head and says, “Oh. Wight.”

Oh but guess what?! There is an added bonus that comes with all this new found language. Something in the fine print that they don’t tell you about, up front.

Tantrums. Screaming, flailing, seeming to never end, tantrums.

It’s funny how five minutes can feel like hours when the phrase, “MOMMY, NO!” is being repeated at the top of a two year old’s lungs.

Let’s be clear on one thing, though. I will not tolerate anyone saying my son is in “the terrible twos.” I hate that phrase. I hate the message it sends. Even during the times when he is in full blown meltdown, it’s not terrible. I know and understand the multiple reasons why he is doing this. On one hand it has got to be a pain in the ass to want to communicate so badly and to have everyone tell you they can’t understand what you are saying. I would get pissed, too. That in no way means that I condone this behavior at all, and he is disciplined when he is rude or belligerent to myself or Jeremy. I am just saying, I get it. I also get that he is figuring out his boundaries and pushing us to see what he can get away with, to see where the line has been drawn. Again, fine, but you step too far over that line and there are consequences.

But, truth be told, it sucks. I know it is just a phase and one that I hope is over, quickly. I hate getting mad at this face. Breaks my heart.

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Everyday Life – Papa, I Wanna F’y!

This amazing photo was taken by my friend, Kim Silcox. She is an incredible photographer!