I asked Willy the other day for photo shoot ideas for this post. Being that it is Hooper’s 21 month roundup, he suggested photographing Hooper with a booze can. Actually, I believe his vision included Hooper lying in bed surrounded by beer cans. I’m all for humor, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around that one. So I thought, what’s the toddler booze equivalent? And the answer became suddenly clear: ice cream. It just so happened that the evening before I snapped these photos, the ice cream man had come parading down our street with tunes of “Mary Had a Little Lamb” blaring from the speakers. It also just so happened that we were playing in the front yard and thus heard him coming. So yeah, it was meant to be. The photo above also serves as proof it was meant to be. I mean check out Hooper’s expression. If I could read his thoughts, I’m pretty sure he was thinking: “uhhhh, mom? Why are you letting the creepy guy in the molester van hold me?”. This might be my favorite picture to date. 

Growth: You’re wearing 2T in pajamas and pants, mostly because you’re so long. You can still wear 18 month shorts though because you have a tiny waist. Shoes are size 6, diapers size 4. We comment almost daily about how big you are getting. Your brother’s arrival helped to shed light on just how much you’ve grown since birth. 

Feeding: You had a cold and/or allergies this month and there were a couple of days where it seemed as though you ate nothing at all. But alas, you got back on track. I try my best to concentrate on what you eat over the period of a week instead of a day, as there are days you eat great and other days you seemingly don’t eat at all. You are still not motivated by food and getting you to feed yourself is a struggle. It’s my goal, as of late, to help you become more of an independent eater. My role in that is trusting you to eat when your hungry and stop when you’re full. It’s easier said than done because you don’t eat much on your own. The majority of food that lands in your belly is compliments of your crazy mama chasing you around with a spoon. 

Development: You love to mimic things we do around the house. This includes cleaning. You like to make your own mess and then grab a paper towel, or just your hand, to wipe it up. You also like to bring your Papa a bottle of lotion and pretend to rub the lotion on his tattooes. You’re fond of a little game Papa came up with called “Put your nose to the wall”, only it’s not really a game, per say. Papa instructs you to put your nose on the wall and you obediently listen and then we laugh and the game is over.

We’ve seen the beginnings of your tantrum phase. It happens when you don’t get something you want. The other morning, I opened the freezer to get something and you pulled out the ice cream. When I told you you could not have it, you squatted down to the floor and slapped your hands on the floor and fake cried hysterically. You think you’re making a point, but you’re really just humoring us. You can’t have ice cream for breakfast, the first of many hard lessons you’ll learn in life.

I still take you to your gym class and you are still shy around the other children. You seem to warm up to adults and older children well, but become timid around children your own age. For the monster you are at home, it’s quite a change to see you so reserved.

We’ve started ten second time outs. Your Papa takes you over to the corner, makes you look him in the eye, and counts to ten. You were taken to that corner many times in the two weeks your Papa was off from work (mostly for hitting or being a pest at the table).

You went pee in your potty. Once. Not sure if it was a fluke, but we celebrated anyway. I think you were a bit unsure why there was a cookie in your hand. But whatever the case may be, we’re getting closer.

You give Eskimo kisses. You’ve also learned to give decent regular kisses, complete with a pucker and a “muah”, which sure beats the previous open mouth slobber. You also know the meaning of “ear muffs” and proceed to cover your ears with your hands when prompted to. You do both the “grandfather” and “peg leg” walk. The former is when you walk with your legs so bent your bottom is practically touching the floor. You look like a hunched over grandpa, hence the name. The latter is when you walk with one leg completely straight causing this awkward limp. Almost daily, during your witching hour, you spin around in circles and stumble around like that smelly man in the back of the 7-11. 

Sleeping: You went through a regression in sleep while I was in the hospital. Your schedule was thrown off a bit with all the chaos and there were a few days where you consecutively did not or would not nap. Soon after I came back from the hospital, we got you back on track only you had problems taking naps in your bed. We’d find you in the corner going through your books or on top of your chair turning the light on and off. We put the play pen in your room and you’ve been taking your naps in there and sleeping through the night in your bed. Little by little, I hope we’ll get back to normalcy. Currently you’re taking your morning nap in the play pen, but protest at times. Some days you don’t actually fall asleep until a few hours after being put down initially. Your afternoon nap has been hit or miss, much to my dismay. Mama needs you to nap 🙂

Talking: You’re making more of an effort to string words together, only none of it makes sense. It’s all gibber jabber combined with a point in some direction or a raise of eyebrows. Clearly, it all makes sense to you. We’re still waiting to learn your language, though majority of the time you’re able to make your wishes quite well known. You refer to farts as “doo-doo” and poops as “ca-ca”. Your Papa thinks it’s funny to fart near your face and have you call him out on the “doo doo” he makes. I guess, technically speaking, your first sentence was, “doo-doo, Papa”, complete with a point in your Papa’s direction. There’s no sneaking farts past you. You are the little fart policeman. I guess this is a good time to mention that you are afraid of the whoopie cushion. Deathly afraid. We bought it hoping it would produce more “doo-doo” alerts, but instead you shake and cry in fear… which is also entertaining from time to time.

You also say “maaaaaaa-ma” (just like someone would say “you’re craaaaaaa-zy”) when I’m tickling you or being ridiculously funny cuz, well you know, you’re mama is ridiculously funny.

You also learned that a chicken says “cock-a-doodle-doo”, even though it’s technically the sound a rooster makes… but, whatever, we’ll m

Favorites: You love your toy cars. We went to Target the other day and made the mistake of letting you pick out a car. It was a mistake because of the tantrum that ensued. You really need to learn the concept of waiting. Maybe it was our fault for showing you the car before purchasing it, but you have to learn one way or another. It was the worst blow up yet.

You’re still fond of organizing. When we go to the beach, you like to collect rocks and organize them into different pales over and over again. Your Auntie Kim calls you industrious, I call you obsessive. There is a small rock pile outside our front door too.

You enjoy coloring. The crayon covered little table serves as proof. I worry for our white walls. You seem to be left handed, as you use your left hand to color the majority of the time. You switch off hands when eating. Other favorites include your blanket, pen and paper (“pay-pee”), the guitar (aka, “tar!”), filling Sarah’s bowl with dog food and your brother.

On Being a Big Brother: The highlight of my first day home from the hospital was when you tried to share your raisins with Van. The downfall was when you fell and bumped your head on the furniture and I had no way of consoling you while I fed Van and sat on my swollen bottom. There were a few days of adjustment in the beginning and you hit Van a couple of times. After the second week, I don’t think you had any recollection of life without your brother. Today, you love holding him and hugging him and saying “hi-yee” to him. You give Van the best puckered kisses too. You’re Papa and I are jealous. It’s a beautiful thing.