no time to write a longer blog

So I will just include some highlights from today...

"Quisas, mio jugo".

"ella esta brincando como loco" (about a girl walking by our , kicking a hackey-sack back and forth with her friend).

paporse

We count a lot around here. Amado is pretty good up until 10, though he ditches cinco and nueve every once in a while.

Today, he was eating yogurt and started counting out his bites. He got to diez, and then had this little glimmer /travieso look in his eye that said "I bet thats all you thought I could do, huh, lady? Check this out!"

And then real non-chalant like, he said "once, doce, trece, paporse.."

Oh man, it was so cute, his "paporse". I started laughing, I couldnt help it, and he started cracking up, yogurt falling out of his mouth, like "I know, I shocked you with that one, huh?!"

Then he continuted, saying "diesiseis......" he trailed off, and then yelled, throwing his arms in the air "y no mas!"

So awesome. He is right - I didn't know he could count up to paporse, and then throw in a diesiseis for good measure. He was so proud, and also knew when he couldn't go any further, so he finished with a flourish.

so fresh and so clean

This morning, as I was getting Amado dressed, we were discussing what he wanted to have for breakfast. He decided he wanted cold cereal.

So, the kind of cereal we have right now is that puffed corn one. For some reason, we started calling this cereal "puffy puffy". I know, its a dorky mom move, lets just get on with things.

So, he decided he wanted "puffy puffy con leche" by the time we had his pants on. I stood him up and started to get his shirt on, when he stopped me.


"No, mami...Puffy puffy, leche...tiro mi panza..no camisa,,,despues, camisa, mami".

Dude. He was telling me it made more sense to wait until to put his shirt on till after his cereal because he always spills some on his belly when he eats cold cereal. He was right. So wild.

I was in total disbelief that he communicated that so well. This guy is so awesome - it is so so cool to watch him put things together like that and then communicate them! And of course, its Amado so its about cleanliness.

sweet dreams

This may only be meaningful to those of you who know Amado, aka those of you who have heard him talk in, what we call, "monster voice". Its a voice he slips into several times an hour, to get a laugh, or just to change things up a bit. He makes his little voice all deep and then says things or sings, especially things that will sound funny in monster voice. One of his favorites is singing the mothers day song they taught him at school in monster voice. "Mamacita buena, Mamacita linda" is the part he knows. How sweet, right? Yeah, now replay it again in monster voice. Nice.

The other night, Amado talked in his sleep, in monster voice. I couldnt believe it. I am fast asleep - its just the two of us in bed together because we are in Chula Vista visiting my mom and dad - and all of a sudden I am woken up by monster voice.

"Mira, mami! Mira, mami!" (in monster voice)

I was like, "no way, is he really screwing around in the middle of the night?!" I whipped around towards him and he was passed out cold! I touched him to see if he was really pulling a fast one on me, and he was completely, totally, 100% asleep.

Oh man, that was a pretty good one. Weird little guy.

The So-Not-Terrible Twos

When people ask how old Amado is, and we answer that he's two, the response is a blend of sympathy and what seems like a shudder or recollection. "Oh, two is such a hard age! The Terrible Twos!" But its funny because though it seems like they are remembering their kid at two, it seems more like they are reiterating what we as a broader society feel about caring for (managing?) two year olds.

The terrible twos. I guess its because at 2, these little people are really coming into their own. Amado's two most repeated refrains these days are "mio hacer" (i'll do it) or "solo" (I can do it by myself). Of course there are hard moments when what we think is possible for him and what he thinks is possible for him are at odds (for example, he want to jump into the pool alone, as opposed into one of our arms. um, yeah right, kid.) But man, how amazing to watch this little person who sees himself as capable of anything. He is not too small, not too short, not too weak, not too young. He wakes up in the morning and he sees possibilities. He has will like you wouldn't believe. He is his own person. He may not want to go when its time to go, he may not want to stop playing when its time for a diaper change, he may have different plans that what we have on the agenda, but man, you really gotta respect that. And Im sure these other parents felt the same way about their kids when they had two year olds. But its funny, we are told "the two's" are terrible, so we call them terrible. The Terrible Twos - its a phrase everyone knowingly nods when they hear. "Oh yeah, the Terrible Twos". Yup.

I am reading a book called "The Emotional Life of the Toddler" and it talks about how toddlerhood is a constant pull between asserting independence and the need for a secure base. And its a constant tension for the kids and its a constant tension for the adults. And one place you can take it is frustration, "man, why wont he do what he is supposed to" but another place you can take it is to admire what it means for these little people to be defining themselves, and to always be that secure place that they can come home to, after venturing out to assert their independence.

This age is about asserting who he is. Testing him limits. Trying new things. Being who he is. Identifying himself as a real person, not just an appendage of Jason and me. He is working so hard these days, working hard at Being Amado. And that may be different that what we had planned for him, it may happen on a different timeline than we had our watch set to. But he is becoming himself. The wonderful, fantastic, magical Twos.

The first few times it happened, I didnt know how to respond.
"Two?" they said.
"Oh, god, two is so hard! The terrible twos! Watch out!"
I was like, "Um, what? Have you met my kid?"

But now I know to expect it.
"How old is he?"
"Two! Man,its so much fun!"
"Oh, um yeah!" they say, skeptical, but smiling.

And at night, before I climb in bed, I sit on the edge of it and look at him. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust, to see where he starts and ends and where the blanket is. I look at this little-big lovely warm soft baby-kid sleeping in his crib, rythmically breathing in-and-out, and I just want to hold him, bury my nose in his warm neck, wrap my arms around his little waist. Each night, I consider it. Can I move him into the bed without waking him? I know that I will wake up in two hours with his feet on my cheek and an hour after that with his one finger in my mouth and another in my nose. But I still consider it.

I decide no. Soon enough it will be 5am, and he will be standing up at the edge of his crib, calling for us gently, asking to be brought into bed with us for his last 2 hours of sleep. Its not just those few hours of precious kid-free sleep I am choosing, it is an attempt to also respect that he is in process of growing apart from me. It sounds so sad to say it that way, but its true. There are moments I yearn to turn back the clock, to start over, to grow him inside of me once again and relive, relove all those amazing moments. But I know that now my job is to allow him to be him. Toddlerhood is hard on the mamas, I think, because we are continually confronted with the fact that they are their own people. So when Im frustrated that he doesnt want to get his shirt on, or doesnt want to leave the park, or wants to bang my computer with his dumptruck, I gotta ask myself. Am I frustrated at him and what he is doing, or am I maybe a little sad that he is not a swaddled baby laying in my lap? Two years old. I guess we are both growing up a little bit at a time.