Today you are one month away from your second birthday. Excuse me while my lungs collapse - second birthday?? Didn't you arrive on my chest in a wet, steaming package last month?? You don't let this bother you, though. You're already acting like a two-year-old in almost every way possible: you won't sit in your chair at dinner and you drop food over the side when you're bored; you scratch my face and the faces of strangers for no apparent reason; you refuse to talk on the phone; you spin until you fall down; you repeat swears; and you want to party in the middle of the night. In fact, you may be two already. You're certainly energetic enough.

If there's one thing about your personality that's changed this fall, it's your attitude. You've really become a little poop-disturber lately. You've always tested your boundaries but now you seem to take delight in flouting us. The grin on your face when you curse is incandescent. And you'll crawl over anything to get to a steak knife.

the boy: "I told you we should clean out our trunk more often."

You're starting to get arty, which is a big relief. I thought I'd stunted you with our focus on books and (to a lesser degree) computers. I should have known that your abiding interest in all writing utensils would eventually translate into a love for marking up pieces of paper. You're particularly good at scribbling circles on my students' papers. You're lucky they think it's cute.

blake, fascinated by the lord of the rings series, skips to the end
(no kidding, he gets up in my chair with these books ALL THE TIME. it's equal parts weird & endearing.)

You're also getting musical, and you've developed the ability to carry a tune. Unfortunately for my stage-mother ambitions, you don't precisely follow the tune for the song you're singing, but your approximations are charming. You like to sing the songs on Dora, "Happy Birthday," all the children's songs we sing you, the theme for "Thomas the Tank Engine," "Rocks are slow life" by Super Furry Animals, and various Ramones tunes ("look out below!" you shout when you see your Ramones t-shirt). You're extremely particular about who sings you what - if I dare to sing a song that your grandpa usually sings, you'll start moaning in distress. Each of us has our catalogues and we're expected to stick with them or suffer your displeasure.

fascinated by one of his grandparents' kitties

One thing that I don't like lately is the change in seasons. I really enjoyed our summer, or rather, the brief days we had when my AQ course was done. I miss our bike rides the most, though. I got a huge kick out of riding down the block with you trying to force my hands off the handles, or ringing your ladybug bell. I loved sailing through the warm summer afternoons, or chasing the sunrise, or trying to get ahead of rain. Next year let's just live in the park, ok?

I got some Fan-tastic news today: mid-terms are due six days later than first scheduled, so I don't have to mark until I drop dead. Hooray! I was killing myself with a) marking and b) anxiety when I wasn't marking, so this means that my lungs have opened up a bit.

In related news, NaProFOMo is foundering a bit, thanks to my shrinking schedule. Last night I didn't even get to mark, as I was too tired after a weekend of stress (about marking, or course). So I went to sleep with the baby at 7:30. If he hadn't woken for the day at 4:45, it would've been excellent.

Ah well. The greatest thing about midterms is that when they're done, they're done.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 11/08/2005 09:29:00 p.m.