Language development

I know I haven't written in a loooooooooooooooong time about words Max says--and well, that's because starting around his two year birthday, Max has been ridiculously verbal. So much, in fact, that there really isn't a word that Max hasn't said (that he's been exposed to). If you ask him to say something, he will repeat it, and usually very accurately, too.

There are, however, two words that Max will not correct his pronunciation of. Momo and cuckoo. I have no idea how Momo became Max-speak for "monkey" and how "cuckoo" became Max-speak for "cookie," but so be it.

He definitely goes through days where he likes to say one thing over the other. Right now it is still "not yet." (See my post from a few days ago.) Things I enjoy hearing him say because it cracks me up:
--wait a second
--work day? (When I pick him up from Lindsey's he asks me if I was at work today. He phrases it like a question, too, and tilts his little head when he asks it.)
--check it out (He points to something and wants me to look at it.)
--cool INSERT NOUN HERE. I especially like it when the cool NOUN is something completely uncool, like a beat-up Dodge Neon.
--Stop it, Momma/Dada! Stop it NOW!!!!! Go to bed now! Stop it! Night! (We must sound really mean when we put him to bed because when he pretends to put us to bed, that's what he tells us to do. And he uses his "mean voice, too.")

On a related note, Max has shown some skill with using proper pronouns. Seriously. I thought kids weren't supposed to know pronouns till later, but Max already has a good grasp of them. He can accurately use "I" and "you" and properly inserts Max as a subject or someone/thing else as a subject as well. He is using 3-5 word sentences at this point (usually 3-4 words per sentence). He uses the adverbs "too" and "really" properly and he uses them A LOT. Nothing is ever just big, but instead it is "really big." He can ask questions and respond when asked a quesition, and he has been doing all this since he turned two (although then it was 2-3 word sentences).

Other milestones: He can count to 10, knows his colors, knows the shapes (triangle, circle, square), can say all the sounds of the alphabet and identify them all (he has been doing this for a few months know) but cannot recite the song (but neither can Brandon). He knows directions and recognizes places really well--he remembers how to get home and tells me to TURN NOW and he remembered where Brandon got his hair cut (even though he got it cut there forever ago).

In short, I think he's a pretty smart lil dude.

One year and round two

I've been thinking a lot lately about a lot of different things, one of which is something I am sure most of us in my family has been thinking about but no one has really spoken aloud.

It's almost been one year. One year ago this month my parents came to visit and I noticed how skinny my dad had gotten and I just knew that something was wrong. I urged him to see a doctor and after a month of doctor's tests and other procedures, the diagnosis I had been fearing--and yet somehow knew was going to happen--was made. My dad had cancer.

Anyone who knows me knows that the first few months after that diagnosis were excrutiatingly painful. The drive back to St. Louis from Lebanon after I got the news (I was by myself) was the worst 3 hours of my life, the loneliest hours I've ever experienced. Afterwards, I drove to work every morning for the first few weeks just crying. I considered seeing a therapist or doctor about my own depression, and there was a time I just didn't feel like myself because I had so much sadness in me.

And yet somehow we've all made it. It's been almost a year and wounds heal, everything gets better with a kiss and a hug.

I love you both. And Dad, be proud of yourself for kicking cancer's ass. I am.

***

We've been trying for Round Two (translation: Baby Brother/Sister) for four months now. Because Round One was ridiculously easy and ended in immediate results, I find myself getting frustrated, as I am sure anyone who is trying to conceive does.

What is the hardest for me right now is that I know what I am getting into. I hope Max doesn't resent me for saying this, but in all honesty, I am not sure either of us knew what we were getting into when we decided to get pregnant. I suppose we both just assumed it was the natural progression of things--that we had reached the point in our relationship and our marriage where perhaps a baby would fit. I know I am not speaking for myself when I say that I had absolutely no idea how wonderful having a child could be and how much love you could have for someone else.

And that's exactly what we want. Another one to love, someone else to fit into our family. We know what we're getting into this time and we accept it with open arms. I would love nothing more than to see Max as a big brother--he'll be so proud of himself, I just know it. I feel readier for a baby this time around and more excited (not that I wasn't excited for Round 1, Max--it's just that I didn't really know what I was excited for with Round 1).

Strangely enough, the woman who thought that one kid would be her limit desperately wants one, but more likely two more. I love being a mom more than anything and I try very hard to be a good mom, although there are certainly times where I feel like a terrible one.

Max is the one person on this earth who is guaranteed to get a smile out of me (I think it might be the cheeks), and I'd kinda like a back-up smile-maker around the house.

Silly Max

(before going to bed this evening)

Mom/Jennifer: I love you, Max. Do you love Mommy?

Max: Not yet.