Watching Sophie grow up is so much fun. Every day she discovers something new, branching out more and more into toddlerhood. It's so much fun, in fact, that I sometimes forget that Izzy is changing every day too. He is becoming such a KID. No longer a baby at all. *sigh*
Today I cleaned out mine and Chris's closet so we could put up our winter clothes, and I left Chris's sorted in piles all over our bed. Izzy got up in the middle of them and called it his castle. Looked like fun, so Sophie and I joined him.
We all get comfy. I'm leaning back on a couple of piles of clothes with my legs hanging off the edge of the bed, Sophie is sitting kind of above my head, and Izzy was sitting beside me in a similar pose to mine, with his legs outstretched. He took a bite of the Pop-tart he'd been carrying around literally all day long, looked at me and said, "How your day, mama?" He was meaning, of course, "How was your day?"
I smiled and told him good, then I asked how his was. "Good!" he said happily.
I love that. He wanted to have a conversation! When we first started him in speech therapy about 10 months ago, that's what Chris and I told them our goal was - we wanted to have a conversation with him. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we'd come this far, this fast. Izzy is my little buddy now, and we really do have a blast together. I can't get enough of talking with him, rather than to him.
When he woke up from his nap a couple of days ago, he came into my bedroom where I was taking a break (which I SWEAR only happens every several months) and laying down, and he curled up with me and started talking about body parts. This stems from a book we've been reading called, "Me and My Body," that has cartoon girl and boy outlines filled with a skeleton on one page, organs on another, muscles on another and so on. He was so into the book that I bought him (at the dollar store) this little clear body filled with brightly colored organs and he loves it.
So we're laying there and he pointed to his head and told me that's where his brain was, then he pointed to his chest/stomach and told me that's where his heart was, and his lungs, and we practiced breathing deeply so he could feel his lungs expand.
Then he touched his leg and told me his bones were in there. I told him they were indeed, and told him the name of them, as best as I could remember. I touched his lower leg and showed him where his tibia and fibula are, then his femur in his thigh and the patella on his knee. "No," he told me patiently, "That my bones." I agreed, but told him it was his femur-bone, like Gammie is a dog but has a name too. He argued good-naturedly with me for a while, then told me that his bones were blue. No, I said, they're white. "White?," he asked. "Oh!" That cracks me up every time. When he learns something new he always exclaims, Oh!, in such an excited, Eureka!, kind of way.
Then he touched the bone in my leg and told me that was my bone. I agreed, then showed him the bones in his feet and then the bones in his fingers. "No," he said. "They not bones. That my finger." We agreed to disagree on this whether bones were inside of his fingers or not. He thinks I'm nuts.
Life is so much fun with him around. And it's awesome watching him and Sophie develop their bond, too. Today while we were sitting there amongst the clothes-pile castle, he kept putting his Pop-Tart down. Sophie would dart over and grab it quick as lightning and gleefully look at him to make sure he saw her take a bite. Then when he was trying to get it back, she kept trying to bite him!! At a year old! We are so in for a wild ride with this child. Izzy was so cute saying, "No, no baby," in a sweet sing-songy voice, then when she kept persisting he'd yell, "That my Pop-Tart! Get away baby!" I generally don't laugh at times like this because I know that Izzy takes the loss of a trans-fat laden pastry-like object very seriously, but I couldn't help but crack up at their antics today.
I hope we always laugh this much. I think we will.
No comments:
Post a Comment