Nathan did his laundry today and this is what he was left with.
Apparently the dryer has no mercy....he'll even steal socks from a 2 year old.

Food tastes so much better

After you've rubbed it all over your face!

Splish Splash

I have nothing to write. I am just posting these pictures so I can look back someday and remember how freakin cute Nathan looked in the bath tonight!

Cooling off period

Normally, when I get into an argument with someone, there is an obligatory cooling off period. Whether it be the silent treatment, or a dramatic exit, there is a clearly defined amount of time that I separate myself from the person who just got me so upset.

Until I calm down. Until they calm down. Until we like each other again.

That is not the case when the person you are arguing with is your 23 month old son. This afternoon, after Nathan screamed at me, took a swing at me, and then proceeded to throw himself on the floor screaming "No, Mama" over and over again, I didn't get to walk away and remove myself from the situation. Instead I had to pick up his thrashing body and physically remove him from the bedding aisle of Marshall's. I was "that mom" carrying "that child" out of a public place while dying a little inside of humiliation.

Once we got outside, Nathan seemed to forget about the whole thing - cheerfully pointing out dogs and airplanes through the window the whole drive home. I however was still "in a fight" and really didn't feel like chatting.  But no matter how I was feeling, I didn't ignore him or give him an attitude. I cheerfully agreed with him, "Wow, that is a big doggy!" He was willing to move on quickly so I had no choice but to do the same. I guess that's a good life lesson; to move forward and not hold grudges.

(But secretly, inside, I may or may not have been thinking "I don't really care how big that dumb dog is.")

The power of manipulation

Tonight Nathan ate trees for dinner. It's one of the only ways I've ever gotten him to eat broccoli.

The other night we ate peas and carrots very loudly and very obnoxiously, like monsters.

Sometimes the only way to get Nathan to do something is to manipulate him. As bad as that sounds, it's true.

With his 2nd birthday quickly approaching I am having anxiety because he still uses a bottle. He will drink water and juice out of a cup but when it comes to milk, it has to be bottle and it has to be warm! How did we create such a diva???

I've tried every trick in the book to get this kid to drink milk out of a cup.
Chocolate milk - Nope.
Adding pureed strawberries to it - Nada.
Mixing it with yogurt. - Zilch.
Putting it in a dinosaur cup and calling it monster milk - Fat chance.
Mixing it 50/50 with water - Doesn't fool him.

If anybody has any other suggestions, I'd love to hear them. The only other thing we can think of is to just pack away all the bottles one of these days and make him go cold turkey.

How many miserable days will it take before he caves and drinks cold milk from a cup??
Who will cave first, him or me??
Somehow I will manipulate this child into drinking cold milk from a cup...right???

5 minutes

That's how long it took for Nathan to break off the new child lock we installed on the bathroom drawers.

Nothing keeps a man away from his hair products.

Say what?

Since this blog serves as Nathan's official baby book, I wanted to make sure I recorded another exciting moment that I'm afraid I'll forget if I don't put it in writing.

It feels like Nathan's been talking forever... his first words "Baba" and "Dada" came at right around 7 months. At first it was one word. Then he could strong two together. And now I can't even count how many words he can say. It seems like he just has to hear a word once and he can repeat it, over and over. Another recent milestone is that he's been using his possessive tense: "Nathan's shoes", "Daddy's coat", "Mommy's coffee".

But the other day he strung together 4 words.
4 words that had a purpose.
4 words that expressed exactly what he wanted.

"Mama, more cheese please."

He didn't point in the general direction of the kitchen and whine until I magically figured out what he wanted.
He didn't stand in front of the fridge and let me point to everything until I got to the one thing he wanted.
He didn't say "Eat" over and over and then reject every single thing I offered him.

He wanted cheese and he asked me for it.
Politely.
Big day for us...big day.