I'm loving that I can have conversations with my little guy. More and more, we're noticing that he is a little boy and not a "baby" any more. Am I sounding like a broken record?
Yesterday I took him swimming -- something he LOVES to do. There was much excitement in the car on the way to the gym. It was an incredibly windy day, and when we pulled into the parking lot, I mentioned that he'd need to hold my hand so he wouldn't blow away. Not realizing that my words hit home, I was surprised when he wouldn't get out of the car without being held.
"Big hug! Big hug! I don't blow away!"
Sheesh. What kind of meanie am I?
At last, we're in the water. We splash and kick and laugh. He jumps in - over and over. Just a grand old time. All the while, I comment on what a good swimmer he is -- good kicking, bubble-blowing... Though apparently I lapsed in my words of praise, because after a while he announced "I'm doing GREAT!"
Indeed you are, my little one.
Afterward, we step into the shower and talk about what we'll make for lunch when we get home. (By the way, does Kraft sell mac-n-cheese by the pallet?) Anyway, I'm washing myself, and my son looks at me, all smiley...
"Where's your diaper, Mommy?"
I don't wear a diaper honey; I'm the Mommy, remember?
"Where's my diaper?"
And on and on...
Can I just bottle up this sweetness? I have a feeling come the teen years, the adorableness of 2 1/2 will be very appealing...