Sunday, May 15, 2011

2 Years 1 Month

Dear North,

I'm afraid you have reached the dreaded age that people affectionately refer to as the terrible twos. Anything and everything can transform our adorable you into a mess of tears and screaming. Still, we continue to take you out in public. Such gluttons for punishment we are.

Your dad and I love this age though (aside from those previously mentioned moments when you are a raging a-s-s-h-o-l-e). For example, we went out to dinner at a mildly fancy bistro last week. I had packed a big bag of food and two drinks for you, plus a pacifier to use as a last resort. We would never let you continuously scream and cry in a restaurant; rather we try to stuff food and drink into your scream hole and if it comes to it, take you outside. But all my preparation was for naught. You were the cutest guy in the place and so social. Every time someone walked by the table, you greeted them with a boisterous "hiiiiii," accompanied by a friendly wave. And when I say every time, I mean every time. It was really cute the first ten times, but it did get slightly stale around the twentieth. Still, when I thanked the manager for everything, he thanked me for bringing you in and gave us a free dessert. It gives me the idea to take you everywhere I go and demand free things because you are with me.

We've been camping two weekends in a row so far this season and it is already so much easier than last year. Finally, you are at the age, where we can sit back on our lazy haunches and keep an eye on you, rather than having to chase you around constantly. Now you can somewhat understand the perimeter you must stay within. But every now and then, I'll watch you when you think my back is turned. You'll start inching your way into the no-go zone, turning back to smirk at whoever might be watching. It's hard to reprimand you when you're such a little devil, but we manage.

You have developed somewhat of a curiosity for bugs and worms, although often these moments end up in bug fatalities. Last weekend, during our camping trip, the cicada nymphs emerged from the soil and began zombie climbing up all the trees surrounding our site. Your dad noticed them first and drew our attention to it. You were curious, but needed someone else to touch it first before you would. I appreciate your wary curiosity and hope that you maintain it until you learn some more about this world. Those particular cicadas won't be returning for another 13 years, which means you will be fifteen by the time you can poke one again. I hope you still ask me to do it first though.

No comments: