Tantrum

Dylan still throws some pretty classic toddler tantrums. Of course he does. And over pretty much anything, but at least we are gaining a sense of humor about a lot of things. And when he does something he knows he isn't supposed to... like pull his sister's leg, block her from moving across the room to one of us, throw something in the house, or 'back talk', he gets a time out. FOUR whole minutes to start (because the recommendation is a minute for every year of age), but we add another minute if he fights us further. Sometimes those time-outs are all the quiet our house sees during the day and we sometimes secretly (ok, not so secretly anymore since I'm posting about it) enjoy when we can relish in some silence.
One day last week I got some nice quiet time for a whopping 10 minutes because of his behavior!



And let me add for the record that the tantrum/episode of 'self-expression' was only beginning with what you see here on the video. It got worse after the tape stopped rolling...

Promises to a toddler gone wrong

Kathy watched the kids so Ryan and I could go out on a date last Wednesday night. We had fun, but apparently Dylan got the wrong idea about the evening. Kathy writes it better than I can, so I'll send you here to see the play-by-play of how it went.
Plus there is a precious little video at the end with Addie chatting it up with the camera. So if reading a funny story about Dylan doesn't lure you over to her blog, then I'll tempt you with the promise of a cute video of Addie.

In the words of a toddler

You know you are living in 2008 when...

Dylan: "Who you texting Daddy?"

Favorites of a 2 year old

See that little brown stool that Dylan is sitting on? It's integral to our kitchen now. He drags it around, following wherever I go while I cook or prepare him a snack/drink.

He has a knack for placing it just where I need to stand to cook and it drives me nuts, but I do enjoy him wanting to be with me in the kitchen. After all, how long will THAT last, I wonder?

Tub-time is still the highlight of every evening around here. Often when we've had a fun-filled morning/afternoon (i.e. too dirty to take a nap until bathed), I will give him a bath earlier in the day. He loves it, but then gets sad later in the evening when he doesn't get another bath. I think it's the "colors" he gets.

Often when he likes something, he declares "I yuv dis ting" (I love this thing). He loves his little friends Rocco, Nolan, Joshua. He loves running with daddy. He loves kitty. He loves singing together. He loves french toast. He loves making coffee with daddy in the mornings. He loves chocolate milk. He loves bathtime!

Bursting With Words

Again, looking at last year's calendar, I noticed that Dylan had spoken his first 3 word sentence just around his second birthday: "Water Truck Out" in reference to the firemen around the corner with their firetrucks one morning, practicing some water drill of sorts. Firetrucks and little boys = something worthy of a first real sentence.

And now, at 2 1/2, he's bursting with new words everyday. Just about a month ago, Dylan was saying 3-4 word sentences.

Tonight we counted one of his sentences: SEVEN words! Go Dylan!

And to think just a year ago, I asked my Speech Therapist friend if she thought Dylan was delayed at all...

Barf-fest 2008

The morning after the "peacefully sleeping Dylan" picture was taken in the previous post, Ryan and I woke up at 5am to the sounds of Dylan coughing and crying in his room. Ryan, being the super-husband that he is, got up and went to check on him.

Dylan had thrown up his chinese dinner from the night before. Very unpleasant for all of us. Semi-digested chinese food is my least favorite smell!
So while Ryan (again, super-husband) cleaned up the bedding and started the washer with all the pukey blankets and sheets, I tended to Dylan.

And as I carried him into our bedroom with fresh PJs and a clean diaper, he said to me: "I need a bandaid" in the most pitiful little sicky voice.
I couldn't help but smile. How do you put a bandaid on a tummy-ache?

So I decided him getting to sleep in our bed would be a treat. We all piled in and tried to convince Dylan that even though the sun was rising, that it was STILL NIGHTTIME and we needed to go back to sleep.
Sometime around 5:30, he was puking again. This time in OUR bed.

Round Two.

So again, Ryan tended to the bedding while I took Dylan to the bathtub for a quick washup and fresh clothes. Then we came back to bed, full of fresh sheets. But this time with a bucket next to the bed, fully prepared for more of the same.
And yes, it came in handy when Round Three came along.

Poor little Dylan. I wish a bandaid could have fixed it all for him - way back at 5am.

Turtle Baby

Dylan loves his stuffed Turtle. So much, in fact, that he plays with it, brings it along to the table at mealtime to sit with us, and sleeps with it. Tonight in the car he even told his Turtle all about our bedtime routine.

When I thought about getting him a 'baby doll' to help him with the idea of the new baby, Ryan suggested we just let his beloved Turtle be his baby. We just might. He does try to donn diapers on his turtle every so often and carry him around in his blankie (another beloved item worth a post of it's own one day).

And at night: bedtime just isn't complete without Turtle.
He usually sends me off to my room after our kisses and goodnights with the command to take a specific one of his stuffed animals (usually either his SeaHorse or Doggie) to my bed with me, but NEVER Turtle. No, that one stays with him!

fevin, eight, FIVE!

Dylan likes to make this new silly face.

Directions: Make a pukered up mouth and turn your eyes as far over to one side as you can. Await laughter, then bust into laughter yourself.

We now interrupt this program of Dylan bouncing on mommy's legs to recite a toddler's version of how to count to ten. (I love how he ends powerfully with FIVE, as if it's the best number and should end all digital sequences).