Sweet Baby David

How can it be that this little thing is already 2 years old? Why does he seem so much younger than Stevie did at his age? He wears me out with his constant dare-devilry, and I have to admit his new trick of randomly screaming at a pitch high enough to disturb the neighborhood dogs is less than endearing. But this little boy just kills me. I am in so in love with every little insanely adorable part of him.

A few David tidbits…
1. He’s recently become intelligible when he talks (not to outsiders, of course, but to us, anyway). His matter-of-fact declarations and the obvious pride he gets from making them crack me up every time. I love the way he mimics the intonations we use when making the same statements (example…THANK you, Mama, THANK you SO MUCH!
2. He has a relatively new laugh which brings to mind a villain mwuha-ha-ing over his latest dastardly deed. (This particular laugh is usually brought on by rough-house tickling, jumping of high precipices, or gleefully bugging his brother).
3. He sings! The A-B-C’s (though not necessarily in that order) is his reigning favorite, but he’s also regaled us with renditions of Twinkle, Twinkle, The Itsy-Bitsy Spider and Brown Skinned-Girl with the movements.
4. He wants to do everything (and I do mean everything) that his brother does. And it has to be exactly the same (this has caused many a brouhaha in the Grundberg house). For example, after hearing Stevie do so, he will yell out “I have to go pee-pee,” and will dutifully sit on the potty-chair (diaper-on) until we have praised him sufficiently. Not that he intends to actually pee…he just likes the glory.
5. His face is just gorgeous. And honestly, his sad/crying face is one of my favorites. It’s all I can do not to stop and admire his scrunched up little face when he’s screaming his head off. Oooo, how I love this little guy.
6. I still give him bottles (DON’T JUDGE ME….GEEEZZ!) I’m just not ready to relinquish his babyhood. And besides, he’ll still snuggle with me in the recliner if he’s got a good episode of “Thomas the Tank Engine” and a bottle in his mouth. And I absolutely cherish these few-and-far-between moments.

When I first became a mom, I remember being seriously bewildered at the high expectation of sacrifice and love I was expected to have for this tiny shriveled creature who never seemed to sleep. But I think I’m starting to understand now. It’s not the halo-wearing, angel-singing selflessness that I previously envisioned motherhood to be, but throwing myself in front of a bus to save them makes complete sense now.

At any rate, what better way to celebrate a 2-year-old’s birthday and confuse him completely than by taking him to Chucky Cheese? Honestly, it was pretty fun. I forgot how much I loved skee-ball. My boys, on the other hand, are video-gamers at the alarmingly early ages of 2 and 4.