Leo, my baby boy, you a two today, and your last year has been remarkably steady considering your tumultuous days first year and days in utero. I still marvel at your good nature and your flexibility considering the rocky start you had in life. Daddy is increasingly your favorite person in the world with Maggie coming in second and me a distant third. But I know this game now. You'll come back. I may have to wait a few years, but you'll honor me with your affection again someday. And when there is no one else or all through the day, there is Purple Hippo, your great love.
I sure do love your sweet face. You got a whole lot of me in it, after all. You've got the prominent Boyd eyes and the prominent Summerlin jaw. It's those features that prompt people, like the man at the service station two days ago, to say, "You look like your mama!" But the truth is, your face shape and your body you got from your daddy. You seem very delicate in bone structure, and those petite genes can only come through Daddy's side.
But you're muscular and you climb up and down the stairs with Mr. Purple Hippo in tow with ease. Your favorite toy is a ball, and you are surprisingly good and throwing for someone your age (says your indulgent and ignorant mother). Running is great fun. Especially downhill when you can really get some momentum. But you hate to swing.
I don't know if it's birth order, gender, or personality, but if Maggie is our good girl, and you are our mischief maker. You know very well what you're supposed to do, but you prefer to give us a big grin and do the opposite. Always the big grin. Once I caught you signing more clear as day when you
thought I wasn't looking. When I called you on it, I got the grin. We'd been trying to get you to sign for months and you just enjoyed watching us dance.
So young to know how to push buttons. You certainly know where mine are, but you love Maggie's best of all. If you're not getting the attention you want from her, you can send her into hysterics in 30 seconds.When you're not getting enough attention from Daddy or me, you start working through rules to break until we are fully engaged. It's an effective plan, I'll give you that.
You're still not much of a talker. Ball was your first word, maybe around 14 months(?), but we don't hear it anymore. Lately we've gotten a little more talking, though. The littlest piggie says wee, wee, wee. And when we lie in your bed together you point to and name the fish (hsh) on your mobile. I thought maybe I heard more the other day and sometimes I think you're trying to say baby. Jury's still out on Mama; could be or could just be what you say for "Give me some of that." You most certainly know how to shake your head.
Despite that, your language comprehension is excellent. You clearly take delight in following some directions like, "Find me your socks and shoes," because that means we're going somewhere. I need hardly to mention them and you're off to your bedroom, hair bouncing along with your sweet little highstep. Any mention of Daddy makes your eyes light up, but you can follow even two-step instructions at times.
You love to have us name nouns for you. Colors, letters, shapes, animals. You want to know it all. The purpose of book reading is not to hear the story; the purpose is to point and hear the names of each item on each page. You also love to point out people and objects in photos and have them named. Mama, Aunt Beth, Nona, Papa, Papa's wine glass, Uncle Sam. Papa, Grandma, Mama, flowers, Daddy, Aunt Beth. We run through those name (from those two photos) multiple times a day.
You are my picky, picky eater. You'd live on bread and bananas if I'd let you, though I've trained you well enough that you scorn white bread. Salty pork makes the cut sometimes and you're usually open to fruit. Vegetables are right out. No meal is complete without a good, solid mess made and whatever food items beneath your notice splattered on the floor below you.
But you're still my snuggle boy. You like a little snuggle time when you first wake up, and you're sometimes a good sport about lying together in bed. Cuddle up, insert two middle fingers in your mouth, and you are content for a good while. Your interest in those two fingers is not lessening, and I don't care. They bring you comfort, and they are omnipresent (if often filthy).
Happy, happy birthday to my Wonder Boy, my Handsome Man, my Favorite Boy in All the World!