Today my son turned two and a half years old. In a mere thirty months he has grown from gurgles to pointing and saying, "This may be dangerous. Careful." or "I see the cows too, Mommy." Every day for the past couple of weeks he seems to pick up new words. We even here him saying, "May I have this please?" Or he'll apologize on his own for walking in someone's path or bumping into them, etc.
On our way to Lap Babies this morning he was bellowing "Hi!" to every college student heading off to their classes. And he'll point out every sight of interest to anyone that lends an ear.
He takes leaf hoppers out of his water table and catches spiders in old yogurt containers. He thinks most music is "too noisy," but Katy Perry seems to be OK. He thinks the Cat in the Hat is very funny and that hamburgers are called Krabby Patties. He worries about monsters and ghosts and knows what it is to be scared. He also knows what it is to be independent and stretches his comfort zone every week. Mommy isn't as happy about that, but in her heart knows it is wonderful for him.
Tonight the crickets are still chirping, the air was warm enough to be out without a jacket and somewhere in the distance a train whistle is calling. Upstairs my little baby is dreaming about pumpkins and donuts and dinosaurs and train rides and growing, growing, growing.