ve reached the end of the Internet, so I need a change of venue.Jack Jack has turned two. This year's birthday was significantly more low-key than last year. A couple of family parties - no kid parties yet. Mentally, I am not ready for it, and I think Jack is indifferent as long as he gets to eat frosting. The day before his birthday, I took it upon myself to buy a new puppy. More than once, I have wondered, "What in the hell was I thinking?" as she chewed my Steve Madden pump or peed on our down comforter...but, she's truly a doll, Jack loves her to pieces, and she is learning not to pee on things. I still have to hide everything in the house from her. Yesterday I found a toy motorcycle tire with little puppy teethmarks in it.
Somehow I manage to love him more every day. He always surprises me - yesterday he touched my face and said "mommy soft" and gave me a big kiss. I can't believe how fast he is turning into a little boy - doing ornery things like putting a handful of Spaghetti-O's into babysitter's hair or climbing up onto the kitchen table to draw a "football player" right on the wood. Mornings are the best...I think I have said before. He is a big cuddlebug and wants me to play and hold him constantly. How I dread work on those days and wish we could giggle and goof off all day. Each evening I look forward to walking into the door and seeing him jump out of his hiding place to say, "Mommy! I missed you!". I love his concern for others and his need to kiss their ouchies and hug away their pain. His constant need to see the picture of Dottie on the fridge - as if to keep her always in his memory, and how he loves to pretend he's daddy by wearing his referee hat. A few days ago at the sitter's, he took off his pants and diaper and pooped in the toilet without telling a soul until he was done. You have never seen a prouder boy than Jack that day. Of course, I am still changing poopy diapers and he still says, "I'm going poopy. I need to finish!" through his watery eyes and red face. I adore that he's such a little helper and insists on dragging the milk out of the fridge when he wants some - even though the gallon nearly rips his arm out of the socket. He constantly wants to be read to and loves the "Three Little Jayhawks" and "Curious George". I am trying to wean him off anything Elmo and have even hidden a few of those (I know, I'm horrendous, but I can't stand Elmo and his stupid third person talk!) to make him forget they are there.
We are truly lucky to have this little guy running around the house. He can wrap everyone around his chubby little finger in the blink of an eye and we all love it that way.


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