You, my tallish, lanky boy, are growing by the day it seems. The pants I bought you in early fall are now high-waters, and your feet are almost growing through the ends of your shoes. I'm afraid all the clothes I wanted to repurpose that were slightly too big last summer are now going to be too small by the time summer rolls around this year.
You're also getting smarter all the time and routinely come home telling me facts beyond your years. They're always posed as questions, like: "Momma, did you know Georges Seurat painted dots?" or "Did you know Orca whales have a nickname? Killer whales!" I'm loving that you're getting swept up in learning, and frankly, I'm learning some new things along with you. I'm guessing this is just the beginning of that. You're so, so good at math and puzzles and have already mastered some basic addition and how to put together the 5-12 age Lego kits by yourself.
Lately, you've been more of a Momma's boy than ever, and I am loving every second. Since you were a baby, you've always preferred Daddy, and to be honest, it's broken my heart a tiny bit. But friends who told me that would change have been proven right because the tide seems to be shifting in my favor. The other night you actually said it, verbatim: "Momma, Bennett is a Daddy's boy and I'm a Momma's boy." So...there you have it. [Squeals with delight!]
Well, my big kid, that can't possibly sum up your last few months, but it's definitely the biggest happenings. I'm so very proud of you!
I love you more,
You are my continuously ornery, sweet, spunky little dude and you remind me daily how much you are like me. Every time I see your stubborn face, or hear you shout "No!" I have to remind myself that I was probably juuuust like you as a toddler.
You're continuing to impress with your physical abilities, which now include jumping all the way off the ground, climbing the outside of the stairs, and getting to places only your brother could reach a short month ago.
For Christmas, you got some new bath toys that are just foam letters and numbers that stick to the wall, and they've quickly become a favorite in the shower with Daddy. You've been playing with them so much that you even recognize certain letters as belonging to one of our names. "Bubba!" you'll say, and point to the letter "G" (you never call him Gavin, though you recognize it as his name), or "Momma!" when you point to the letter "M." It's impressive for a not-quite-two-year-old!
I love you more,