Two is not terrible

Witten turned two today, and you know what? I'm okay with that. I've been referring to him as two the entire month of June, and with good reason. He acts like a two year old. That can be a good thing, and a bad thing. But mostly, I love two. Two year olds are so much more reasonable than one year olds. They can tell you what they want, they can sort of be bribed or reasoned with. They are just so fun.

Witten kind of amazes me with how big he is already. He talks. SO MUCH. He will basically say any word you tell him to say, but he also has this amazing vocabulary for a two year old. Like, complete sentences. He loves to go outside, and he tells me five times a day I go outside and swim in it (he is talking about the pool obviously). He loves playing with the girls, and talks about how funny they are. Lana and Ava (which he pronounces Ah-va) funny. He loves to watch Peppa Pig because for some reason my kids love that show, and he recently decided that we should also watch Finding Nemo every. day. The whole movie he is basically obsessed with Marlin, and he repeats Nemo Dad constantly in case any of us have forgotten who that clown fish is.

My boy is a little carbaholic. He will eat crackers all day. I don't buy chips because A) they make crumbs and B) they are nasty and my kids will eat them all in one sitting. So my compromise is box after box of Wheat Thins and Ritz Bits and Cheez-Its and Goldfish. At this point I need to buy these products at Costco, because just buying the family size box only gets me so far. I cannot even fathom feeding him when he is bigger, especially a teenager, because judging by the amount of mashed potatoes he can fit into his skinny little body right now I'm going to need to double the amount of food I cook at every meal.

I don't know what kind of big brother Witten will be, but he seems to have grown fond of my growing belly. He hugs it and lays his head on it, and loves to just put his hand on my belly when he is laying by me and going to sleep at night. He is loving in a way I didn't know before having a boy. Maybe part of that is that one minute he is wild and yelling and throwing tuna cans on my bare feet, and the next he wants me to pick him up and he lays his head on my shoulder and I remember why I keep him around.

I love this guy, he is equal parts rowdy and calm, loud and quiet, sweet and spicy. He is smart one minute, naming all of his body parts, and the next he is intentionally dumb, jumping off of the couch and hurting himself. That is something about boys I will never understand. He makes life interesting, and I don't know what I would do without his crazy personality to keep me entertained. I guess you could say I love him, I guess I will keep him. Plus he really likes to help unload the dishwasher and who wouldn't keep a guy that does that?