To Speck at 28 months

Well, the changes since I last wrote seem more of degree than of kind, as you get more and more talkative, more imaginative, more dextrous in interacting with your world. You've gone from working the occasional puzzle, with help, to plunging ahead unaided (although still requiring an audience) through 48-piece jigsaw puzzles and 16-piece cube puzzles. Your small small animal toys (frogs have the fore right now) not only go to playgrounds, but visit a block-based Please Touch museum, have time-outs and repent their ways, and take turns in more elaborate scenarios. You went through a burst of singing all the time, including revealing that you knew the words to all three lullabyes that Mom sings to you (by singing along) and lots of songs that have come up in classes you've taken and elsewhere; these outbursts are less frequent now, but a window into how much you're storing up in your caches.

Linguistically, you also continue to blossom. You've gotten comfortable with counting into the higher ranges, although some of the special words between 11 and 20 can get dropped. You will speak into a telephone, although the conventions haven't penetrated, so the person on the other end of the line is treated to a non-sequitur rush of your thoughts of that instant, to confusing (and endearing) effect. You're also using a range of pronouns now (although not always as we might), you say your *full* name and can recite our address, and you have a host of favorite turns of phrase that capture your current interests: "somebody else's turn!" or "sort of nummy" or "that seems pretty fun." People can be quite amazed, when you finally get over your quiet/observant phase and let the narration and direction pour forth. Equally striking, during a recent car drive you started asking about all kinds of things in the passing scenery, critiquing the traffic conditions, and challenging nearby cars to race -- should be fun to see your engagement and curiosity continue to develop.

Let's see... what else? You took a great interest in clocks during the last few months -- prompted, in part, by wanting to know when a parent would be coming to gather you up from other childcare -- to the point that I had to redraw a chalk clock that had proudly gone number-free for many years. There was also an odd period during the spring when you decided that you didn't like playgrounds, bringing a favorite set of outings and explorations to a halt. Luckily (in time for a major heat wave) you rediscovered the joys of such places, and now insist on going outside every day. You are also a great friend to all pansies, and would insist on picking some from every pot we passed; we made a deal to only pick closing-up flowers from other people's pots (and you quickly learned to tell those from the still-closed buds!), although you could take open ones from our own plants -- either way, you kept your vase full for as long as pansies were blooming.

We've also reached some developmental milestones that sort of sneaked up on us. First, you are now potty-trained, after a 3-day marathon weekend with both parents at home, potties on every floor, and lots of celebratory dancing. Still a diaper for naps and overnight, but you're pretty reliable now in asking for the bathroom when you need it, whether we're at home or abroad, and we've even gotten over our own paranoia about leaving the house again. Less exciting, we've hit some major stretches of "terrible two" behavior, with your diet collapsing down (maybe 75% PB&J sandwiches at times!), battles over getting dressed, procrastinative games at bedtime, and generally more flip-outs that seem immune to both time-outs and reason. Luckily, they seem to cycle off again before our heads explode, so we'll probably all weather the storms. You also had your first real illness right after your second birthday, with constant drippy nose and coughing -- befriending a penguin-shaped humidifier helped, as did a Feel Better Bear from the pharmacy which came with your ear-infection prescription. All that is well behind us now though.

On the up side, this period has seen you even more affectionate, with lots of games acting as excuses to climb into our laps or snuggle, or running away so you can tell Mom to "try not to cry" and then console her, and with most departures requiring a "hug-n-kiss" from both parents. Plus, we now make a family sandwich before you head up to bed, and you like to point out that you are the peanut butter and jelly. Indeed, little Pookster, you are the PB&J that tasties up our bread -- thanks for sticking with us!