Dear Mateo,
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."
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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."
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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!"
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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."
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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.
