He's a Big Boy Now!

 It happened.  He turned two.  My baby boy is becoming a little man.  Klive's our last baby, and I've had a hard time coming to terms with him reaching all of these big-boy milestones knowing that we won't have them again.  The good news is that he just keeps getting cuter and funnier, so I guess I'll let him keep growing up.  

 Let's see, what do I want to remember about our dude at 2.  Klive is one busy boy.  He's not one to sit and play quietly with a toy or two.  He hits the floor running at about 7 in the morning, tears into his toy box, and gets a giant, messy adventure going.  He especially loves to throw his toys down the stairs and bulldoze right through his sisters' play areas.  

 He's your typical boy, into using his yard tools alongside his dad, crashing his cars, turning everything into a gun.  But every once in a while he caves into sisterly peer-pressure and dives into the dolls and dress-ups.  What can I say, he does what he has to to survive.  

 He's still the king of making faces and now that he's talking, he's even more of a joker.  He repeats everything he hears, so his sisters have turned it into a game and try to make him say incriminating phrases.  He gets into plenty of trouble when left alone for more than 30 seconds.  We may need to purchase some heavier kitchen chairs, because he swiftly and silently slides ours all over the house to reach all things off-limits.  But how can you get angry at a boy you catch up to his eye-balls in kitchen sink bubbles doing the dishes with his bottle brushes.  Smart, sweet, but ever so sneaky.

This boy fills my heart and my days with so much joy and happiness.  He is so precious to our little family and we can't get enough of him.  Today I was pushing him around the grocery store and as we entered each new isle, he would say, "Mom, wait, wait, wait, wait . . . hugs."  Then he would hold me tight for at least a minute before we were allowed to move on.  If that's terrible twos, then I say bring it on!