For the last year I’ve been journaling each month in an attempt to remember little things Wyatt is, says and does. Over time the formatting changed: because of need, desire or circumstance — but the notion stayed the same. Things I Want to Remember.
I plan to document Wyatt’s third and Thurser’s first year with a new series I’ll be starting next month that is a shameless steal from Elise, author of enJOY it by Elise Blaha Cripe. I’m not quite sure what I’m going to title it yet, but I am sure that it will be great. :)
Some days I still can’t believe I get to be mama to this kid. Whew! Here it goes…
THINGS I WANT TO REMEMBER
WYATT’S 23RD MONTH
Back to feeding himself after a short strike ;)
Sneaks out of our bed after/during nap time to play in his room.
Started calling me mommy :)
Speaking sentences all of a sudden. “No daddy.” “On please.” “Thank you mommy.” “Read it again!” “Mow daddy.” “Chickens out.” “Iri go?” “There Iri!” “All better.” “No mommy.” “Daddy read it.”
Makes faces at himself in the mirror.
The way he says “hey baby” or “hey Wyatt” after I say “hey baby” or “hey Wyatt” to him :)
Eskimo kisses at night in bed or randomly through out the day. So serious and purposeful about it.
The way he pats you on the shoulder, back, belly or chest. A loving, sincere pat.
Loves taking care of his baby brother. Giving him kisses on the head, giving him his pacifier when he’s crying, bouncing/rocking him. And the way he gets indignant when Thurs doesn’t calm down right away. Haha!
Says Thurser “Der-der”.
Loves playing outside, going to see the chickens. Pushing his cart and lawn mower.
Enjoys dumping all of his toys out of their baskets and driving over them with his vehicles.
How he says “No no no no!” more and more.
Refers to everything that is “chocolate” as “chocolate milk”… I think he thinks it’s one word…
Started using adjectives: Daddy’s shoes, two balls, two ladybugs, skinny tire, big tractor, baby tractor, green tractor… (You do see a theme, don’t you?)
Tries to repeat all of the words as you read books to him. Always at least says the last two words.
Sniffs everything (including toys?) and acts like it smells good. Excepts his shoes. “Pee-u!!”
Likes to rough house and wrestle. With pretty much anything that moves.
Starting to count in order: 1, 2…
The way he says monster trucks :D
I’ve been journaling about you for a little over a year now. I didn’t seek out to write you a letter on your first birthday, but I did write something to you just shortly after. Of course I read this when I decided to in fact write you a letter for your second birthday, and the part about not being able to wait “to get to know you even more”? Well, I had a hunch and my hunch was right baby.
Wyatt! Oh my gosh you are so awesome! So loud, sweet, crazy, goofy, loving, heartfelt and sincerely awesome! You live passionately. You understand what it means to love and love fully. The compassion you have is almost unreal. To those who have never met you or anyone like you it would sound strange to characterize you, a two year old, as empathetic + intuitive — but you are!
When the chickens were chicks and they would startle or get upset by some commotion, you would cry out for them. Not because you yourself were scared by their squawking, but because you were scared for them.
When your favorite dog in your favorite movie is put in harms way, you immediately recognize it and call out to him. It sounds simply dramatic to say I was moved by this, but I was. And am. It seems like I would be such a burden to live like this, and yet you leave me desiring to feel this way too.
And you are loud. So unbelievably loud. Haha! You scare your brother with your loudness everyday (don’t worry he’s getting used to it.) It’s a happy loud though, you know? A shriek of joy. A cackle of love. An adventurous dump of yet another basket of toys. A determined + thunderous 112th lap through the kitchen with your toy cart.
I always say you are the calmest, wildest boy I’ve ever met. You’ve always been my cautious boy, showing great intuition when it comes to how high you can climb, how far you can jump, how far to stray from mom and dad. But you grow bolder by the day. It terrifies me. And also fills me with pride.
I thank God for all the cuddles. That you still want to stroke my hair as you fall asleep, even if I’m grumbling at you to stop. I’ve never wanted time to just stop before now. You and your brother are growing so fast. Some days seem so long. So hard. Like “why can’t he just sleep in his own bed?” hard. Or “don’t swing your truck around your brother” hard. “Where did all these dirty dishes come from?” hard. And, “Remember when we didn’t have to make appointments for showers?” hard.
But I have yet to find myself willing the clock to read “bedtime” because somehow the thought of all of this being over? Is so, so much harder.
You have a temper, you’re oh-so crabby when you’re hungry and sometimes all you need is a hug. I thank God for that too. That a hug still fixes everything.
You always seem content to do your own ‘thing’. So much like your dad. It’s refreshing and gives me hope as I watch you grown up in this world full of ‘me toos’.
I love you so very much Wyatt.