He loves "movies" and requests one for breakfast every single day. He doesn't like to use the straw, however, so movies are quickly becoming my nemesis.
He brushes his own teeth.
I mean, really...
He likes the idea of potty, but doesn't actually do it. Unrolling toilet paper is an art form.
He hates toys floating in tub.
He uses his hair as napkin.
He's absolutely a bully.
He draws a lot on things he shouldn't.
He thinks he's a big kid. It has never occurred to him that he might just be a baby.
He is only snuggly first thing in the morning or if we have guests over or if I'm cooking or if I'm shopping in a way that requires he sit in the cart.
He's a bolter.
He walks up and down the stairs now instead of scootching or slithering.
He says Tius and Mimon and I can't even pretend to figure out how to spell the word he uses for Felix.
He speaks in full sentences and adds to his vocabulary every day.
He can pitch a mean fit, especially if it involves
leaving an activity he's not ready to leave,
coming indoors from out of doors, no matter the situation
or being strapped into his carseat.
He is busy, busy, busy and takes even the mention of naps as a personal insult
He smacks people on the butt. I don't know how it started, but if anyone bends over for any reason,
he's there with a swift hand and swifter grin.
He loves to play chase.
His favorite toy is a stuffed pig from IKEA.
He calls milk "moo."
He doesn't really play with toys all that much. He prefers to be outside driving his cozy coupe. It's making present buying difficult for his (sob) upcoming birthday.