"Mommy, mommy, mommy. Daddy? Mommy, football? Mommy, shoes on. Mommy sleepy nite nite? Mommy, don't want to. Me drive? Mommy, mommy, mommy..." A typical conversation with Jack. He never stops talking...sometimes hilarious, sometimes maddening. I love that I can have an actual conversation with him. He is my favorite person to talk to. But on the other hand, I think I hear my name 1,000 times a day. I seem to remember my dad telling me to stop talking several times in the car, so I assume this is my payback. He talks and talks and talks. He knows a million words, he is brilliant and hilarious and sweet. He wants to kiss everything, including the Jayhawk on my back window. "Dayhawk, kiss," he says as we get into the car. "Dayhawk, nice. Me drive?" I officially need to get him a set of wheels. With a Jayhawk sticker, of course.

His latest is to jump off of the couches and ottomans. "Mommy, hand," he will say, and reach for my hand. He counts 1...2...3...and leaps in the air. And he can also count to 10, although he usually skips four and eight. Sometimes he will say "...nine, ten, nine!"



My new favorite is at night...he will lay in my lap as he drinks a glass of milk and when he's finished he will say, "nite nite" and either zonk out on my lap, or take my face in his hands and ask to be taken to his bed. The sweetest. I am amazed at his guestures and feel like hubby and I are doing a good job. He does have his moments, but I can only imagine that every parent has their share of worries or frustrations about whether or not they are doing it "right". I wonder about the hitting stage he is going through and the fact that he actually seems to enjoy time-out.


I am now reaching a crossroads...is it time to change the bed into a toddler bed? If I do, I am certain I will wake to find him sleeping in his closet (where he likes to hide) with the cat, or pulling all of the clothes out of his dresser amidst a sea of baby powder. My next dilemma is potty training. He understands it, and talks about it, but he is nervous about sitting on the actual toilet. I imagine I will find him peeing in a house plant or in the dog dish.

On another note, I have been placed on the IR with a ridiculous ankle sprain I received playing volleyball. I'm so annoyed because I have so many things to do and hubby (of course!) is out of town all week for work meetings. Jack can make it down the stairs faster than I can and he will also be disappointed when he finds out I can't run around the house in circles and chase him when he says, "mommy, run!" There could be a bonus to that...considering the last time we did it, the dogs played along and one of them took me out and I nearly broke my toe. I am a walking, talking injury. Good thing we have a bye next week in the ever-competitive women's league.

I keep this blog up, although I know that posts are sometimes few and far between. I have a lot of pictures I need to add...I think mostly this is something therapeutic for me, and I also know that I will forget half of the things if I don't put them down. I will do my best to get pictures up soon.