two

I've got a little boy that'll tell ya how old he is if you ask him nicely....

two!

He is a little boy now, definitely not a baby. He can (and LOVES to) identify all of his letters (generally upper case, still working on most lower case) and can say a couple of them in the right order when we say the alphabet, count to ten (used to not forget any numbers but now he usually forgets '4'), knows his colors, pats himself on the chest and says his name is "Pah-kuh" if you ask him his name, says "hi" to everyone that passes by in public and grins and giggles at them, then says "so nice" (compliments himself on his social skills), runs full speed, especially after rolling balls or tires, climbs all over everything, loves to play the piano and watch Elmo (for 5 minutes, then he  likes it on in the background as he runs around from room to room playing with different things), play "getchoo" (run after and tackle him, or he runs up to us and clobbers us), play "where's Parker?", obsessed with opening and slamming doors (microwave, fridge, car door, inside door, outside door), go up and down steps and recently started counting steps as he goes up them, drinking out of our cups, cuddle Steve's bear Scruffy and his musical duck and blanket while purring "awwww.....", run up to you and give you hugs and kisses, says 'love you', loves to point out his owies (on repeat) and get them kissed to make them all better, take my credit cards in and out of my wallet and pretend to swipe them (oops), asks to dance in the car (turn on the radio or turn it up when it's a song he likes) so he can kick his legs, clap, or slap his hand on his leg, still hates getting his diaper changed or holding hands, and tantrums in general have definitely followed the path of the terrible twos. We love our little Bubby and couldn't imagine life without him.  His cuddles mean the world to me and every hug and kiss just melts my heart. There are good days and there are bad days, and he makes me want to be a better person to turn the bad days into good days. He's the sweetest and the fiestiest, and I wouldn't have him any other way.

While last year's party was absolutely delightful and worth every bit of the chaos stress it entailed, I said no way jose to a party this year. We'll do it again when he can tell me he wants it.

We started the day with his favorite (OK, our favorite) doughnuts. He ate half, then told me he was done by giving it to me and saying "Wan it". He ate the rest later for a snack after he asked me for more "donut" (he used to call them 'cake', I think he thought everything sweet was called 'cake').

 We weren't planning on buying him anything since we were moving in a month, but the night prior I was at Target and just had to get him something. What kind of mom would I be if I didn't get the little guy a special little somethin something. Every time he sees a motorcycle fly by or hears one zoom down the road from inside our apartment, he stops what he's doing, looks up at me, gasps, and says "mah-cheen-nah! vroom vroom!" (he can surprisingly differentiate between the sound of fast little bullet bike motorcycles and loud engine cars, which are trucks--naturally).

So I knew just what to get him...

he was smitten.

 I had nothing planned for the day, so we went outside as many times as his little heart desired to throw tires and his new motorcycle around, had as many 'go-fish' and 'kacker' as he wanted (goldfish and crackers), and I think I might have even gave him a pack of smarties or two!

When Steve got home, we went down to Huntington Beach to Ruby's for his favorites: the beach and 'fies' (fries) with ketchup and ranch.

you are loved, little one.