Mr. Independent!

As Alex is now the ripe old age of two, he has suddenly become extremely independent.  There are exceptions to this independence, of course, in which I'm mainly thinking of when I'm trying to prepare a meal, use the bathroom, or present myself with any type of dignity to the cashier at Home Depot whilst my Al Pal proceeds to roll six things of painters tape down the aisle as if they were little, four dollar bowling balls.

And yet, Alex is very independent, refusing my help to get in and out of the car and protesting "No!" when I try to assist him with basic tasks.  He bats away my hand when I help him to the next level of "Car Puzzles For Toddlers Lite!" on the iPad and does not want an ounce of assistance getting into his chair for dinner. He doesn't want to be held as we cross a parking lot; he cries out "Walk! Walk!" as if he is a prisoner who wants just the tiniest taste of freedom.  He refuses to sit in the stroller anymore, bucking his legs in rebellion until his toes practically touch his eyebrows.  He's pretty much done with being a baby, and, in an instant, I've found myself with two big boys who are perfectly capable of raising themselves.

The big boy on his scooter.

Of course, that's not entirely true.  Andy still requires me.  As he often declares whenever Chris tries to pitch in and help, "I want Mommy to do EVERYTHING."  And then he bends over so I can wipe him.

It's a joy to see Alex transition from baby to big kid, but it's happening fast, and my feelings are hurt when he refuses my attention.  Clearly, this is the way of things, and I've been through all of this with Andy, but I haven't been as ready for the streak of independence with Alex.  I'm supposed to help this kid out of his car seat.  I'm supposed to carry him safely through the parking lot into Aldi.  They are both supposed to sit in the cart adorably having a slap fight with one another while I contemplate between the 99 cent animal crackers and $1.19 graham crackers.  They are little!  Alex is a baby!

But he's not.  He wants to walk.  And so I hold his hand like I do Andy's, and suddenly I'm chaperoning two big boys into the store, Alex proudly tilting his head up and saying "Hi!" to every adult he sees.  Just like his big brother, Andy. Only Andy says a lot more than "Hi!" these days.  Andy explains that Mommy, Daddy, and Alex like bananas, but he doesn't.  He says how old everybody is.  He asks questions about what people are buying. He makes decisions on his own, abruptly declaring, "Tonight I want you to set up my tent so I can sleep in it and eat little chocolate cakes."

I'll never be prepared for the next stage with these two little guys of mine.  It breaks my heart in a beautiful way to see them grow up.  And it makes me laugh, and I want to remember always Alex's airplane. In which I mean, the way Alex randomly says "airplane" to fill the gap in conversations.  Airplanes are to Alex as buses were to Andy.  Alex thinks about airplanes constantly, looks in the skies for airplanes, and suddenly just mentions airplanes even if we are sitting in the living room with the blinds shut tight.  Airplane. Airplane! Mama. Airplane.

Yes, Alex.  I love airplanes, too.  One day we will go on one together.  You and Andy will be very big boys, I'm sure, and hopefully it will be your first trip to Disney.  You will buckle yourself in, you won't be carried to your seat, and you will order your own beverage with confidence.  But that's some years in the future, so until then, don't be such a big boy yet.  Okay?

Airplane.  Yes, Alex.  Airplane, too.