I'm Getting Big!

"I'm getting big," Andy likes to tell anyone who will listen.  Everyone's always commenting on how big Alex is getting, and Andy either believes they are talking about him or knows that they are talking about Alex and wants to assert his growing place in the universe as well.  "I'm getting big," Andy says, "Big like Mommy."

The truth is, Andy is not getting big.  He is getting slimmer.  He has lost all of his baby fat and is becoming lean and child-like.  He is a little man, suddenly.  You can converse with Andy, who is quick to start conversations by inquiring, "What are you doing?"  or "What are you making?"  In the car, he will loudly tell you that you passed the library or that you need to turn a certain way to get to preschool or ask if you need gas if he spots a gas station.  He likes to ask, "Are we there yet?" and I am seriously going to strangle the person or TV show or book that taught him that question, since we live on the fringes of suburbia and are rarely, if ever, almost there yet.  He tells you to go faster and shouts "Green light means GO!" as if you are a moron and this is your first day ever operating a car.

Andy likes to play practical jokes.  Clearly, he is absorbing some of what preschool has taught him, and the other day, during dinner, jumped up out of his seat while I watched him.  Cup of milk in hand, he ran over to the cabinet, stuck his milk inside, and then came back to me with a mischievous look on his face.

"Mommy, where did my milk go?"

Bracing myself for the world's worst prank, I feigned confusion and replied, "I don't know.  Where is it?"

"Leprechauns took it," he said conspiratorially.  I know he got the leprechaun thing from preschool because I have never once said the word leprechaun out loud, ever.  As a staunch ignorer of St. Patrick's Day, I've never given the Irish the satisfaction.  Aside from that, I've never even eaten Lucky Charms, the cereal that features a leprechaun, as we were a generic only household and the closest I ever came to Lucky Charms was an off-brand marshmallow and grain mixture referred to as Fortunate Souvenirs, whose mascot on the box was a hairy-armed pawned shop dealer smoking a cigar.

"Oh my!  Leprechauns!"  I said, testing out the word for the first time ever.  "Where did the leprechauns take it?"

Andy pointed to the cabinet.  "In the cabinet."  And then he retrieved his milk and finished his meal.  See, I told you it was the worst prank ever.  But still.  For a two year old, I was pretty impressed.

Andy's memory is unbelievable as of late, making me rethink my old tactic of parenting him, which consists of cobbling together a web of false promises and out and out lies in order to get him to nap, leave a fun place, or stop hitting the baby.  

But, still, physically, he is not getting that much bigger. Alex, on the other hand, is getting big.  He's in twelve month clothes, eating everything in sight, and already pulling himself up on furniture.  He is long and strong and all set to make that transition from baby to toddler, a few months too early.  He is bursting out of his infant car seat, which I still drag him around in to keep him as portable as I can for just a little bit longer.  I have dislocated my shoulder no less than four times in hauling him around in that thing, but for now, it's worth it.  

So Alex is getting big.  Andy is getting smart(er).  And I am getting thin again.  Hooray for the third hole on my belt, which I have just last week achieved reaching in the daily tightening of my pants.  This was a big day, and a momentous occasion in my post-second-baby-ness that I promptly celebrated with an unholy amount of cheese and sour cream.

A few other quick things:

Ask Andy about his first petting zoo experience a couple weeks ago.  He will remorsefully summarize it by saying, "I kicked a goat."

Alex is now officially playing with all of Andy's toys, correctly, and today seemed to act out a scene involving Buzz Lightyear trying to gain entrance to Elmo's apartment in order to help review his taxes.

However, in many ways, I can understand Andy's frustrations with Alex since little Alex is truly becoming a pain in the ass when it comes to immediately crawling over to Andy whenever Andy is quietly playing and making it his number one mission to knock down Andy's toys, put as many toys as possible in his mouth, or just make a general sloppy mess of things.

Andy loves watching Dora now and likes solving the puzzles she presents.  However, he gets very irritated when Dora doesn't listen to him.  Dora might say they're on a mission to find a mail truck, and Andy will spend all episode yelling, "It's behind the mountain!  Behind the mountain!!"  Clearly, Andy is smarter than Dora, and his Spanish is coming along quite nicely.  In fact, just the other day, I believe he told me to "Vamanos."  

One day, getting bossed around by a two year old will become less humorous.  Yep.  Probably tomorrow.