Topic of Conversation

In two weeks this kid will be two and a half. That's halfway to five. A quarter of the way to ten. And so very far from July of 2006. My heart had not felt the particular kind of love it seized with when he was placed in my arms but it paled in comparison to the way I feel about him now. I didn't know that my capacity of love for him could grow with each passing day, but somehow it does.

And each passing day I am faced with new challenges. New frustrations. New situations that make me wonder what they were thinking when they let me leave the hospital with him. Take, for example, this very moment. He is commando crawling across the carpet screaming, "Want paci. Want taptick (chapstick) now!" You see, I just took it away from him because he'd eaten half of it in under five minutes. Now he is moaning and climbing the stairs, presumably in search of a pacifier. He won't find one. They've been put up in his closet on account of the fact that he's only allowed to have them in bed. Why? Because he's a total addict. He's probably using my cell phone to call his dealer right this minute.

Him: (through wails) Want paci!

Dealer: I got the stuff man. Meet me on your porch.

Him: Want paci NOW!

Dealer: I know, dude. I said I'd be right over...

His new favorite thing is saying Poo poo. All. The. Time. It's his answer for everything. I think that fecal matter and bodily functions must be built in to the conversational skills of males everywhere. I challenge you to have a normal conversation with him and see if you don't hear the word poo poo eighty thousand times.

Me: What do you want for breakfast?

Him: Poo poo.

Me: I love you.

Him: I love you, too, mommy.

Me: Who else do you love?

Him: Poo poo.

Me: Which jammies do you want to wear?

Him: Poo poo ones.

Him: Hi mommy. Poo poo.

Me: You need to go poop?

Him: No.

It's incredibly charming. Especially in public. Every single time we enter a restroom.

Him: Mommy go poo poo!

Me: No bud. I don't need to.

Him: Mommy poo poo. Yucky!

Me: Garrett! I am not going poop!

Really. It's magical. If you'd like to borrow him the next time you're going in to a public restroom, feel free. The conversational possibilities are endless but they will, most likely, involve the topic of bowel movements.

Last night Troy was at church so we had dinner just the two of us. He was being so cute eating a hot dog like a big boy for the very first time that I just had to record some of our conversation. Oddly enough, I don't think he says the word poop. Or maybe I just blocked it out.