Here you are, standing on the windowsill with your bag of tools, being a "telephone line repair guy." Your hair is short, now, and it makes you look older, I think.
Here are a few memories of your 29th month -
Teo: "Someday, maybe I can go in Grammy's belly, and she can be my mommy."
Me (chuckling): "Hmmm. What about me?"
Teo: "You can be Papa's Mommy."
Teo (while walking through Fred Meyer): "NIPPLE! NIPPLE, NIPPLE, NIPPLE!"
Me (giggling): "Oh? What are you thinking about?"
Teo (explaining): "That is where you get a drink from."
Teo: "Mommy? Grammy? Do you guys have any questions? Because I am a teacher!"
You patiently taught us how to stand on one foot and do some other yoga-type poses. When you were teaching us how to hop, you were unimpressed with Grammy's little bounce and said, "No, Grammy. Your feet 'sposed to go off the ground!"
You continue to LOVE playing with words. You go around rhyming pretty much all day long. You especially like singing the "Name Game" song (Teo, Teo, bo-beo, banana-nana, fo-feo, etc). Anyway, you'll ask me for something and say, "Please, please, bo-bease . . ." And you like substituting words in songs to make them funny - "The wheels on the bus go quack, quack, quack, all through the toaster oven."
You are quite enamored of Auntie Sarah these days. One evening I suggested that you might want to go to her house for some "Sarah time," and you told me, "I walk there ALL BY MYSELF, Mommy. You can stay here." I can just picture you trekking down River Road two miles to her house. Knowing you, you probably could find it. You have such a grasp of the layout of the streets (a skill you get from Papa).
Foot and leg painting with Sarah, Oceana, Maddy and me.
Train guy - before your haircut.
At the top of St. Mary's Peak. A fun day in the snow.
Your first sewing project. You used a real needle and
thread to string together these little felt pieces.
At the bus stop with your buddy.