Nice even numbers this month. Ouest turns two and a half and Lowe comes in at ten months. Time is in full acceleration mode now. It seems nothing can slow it down. Which I suppose is simply a Law of Nature.
Lowe is cruising right along. He’s a lean mean fighting machine. All boy. Dirty, cut, and bruised all day every day. But sensitive too. He loves his mama beyond all else. When he is tired he wants nothing more than to bury his head in her shoulder. Papa simply will not do.
He measured thirty and one-half inches tall today. The exact same height his sister registered on her tenth month. He’s ahead of her walking though. He is now taking three and four steps regularly. He is starting to catch himself when he starts to lose his balance, straighten up again, and carry on a couple more steps. I actually think he’d be walking further if it weren’t for the fact that our living room really only allows for about four steps before something is within reach.
He really started to feed himself the past few days and just like that we are left sitting there with a spoon in our hand and nobody who wants it. He just goes to town on whatever we put in front of him, which is mainly an abundance of fruit.
Ouest keeps growing up. This month she has really started to play on her own. She can disappear for long periods of time now and play imaginary games or flip through books. She enjoys her tea set, her pots and pans, her little animals, and her Little People. But more than anything else, she loves the baby toys. Every single thing we buy for Lowe or break out of storage for him she immediately commandeers. He’s pretty chill about it fortunately, but man has she tested my patience a few times with her snatching of his toys. Ahh, siblings.
Vocabulary is growing every day. We’re fairly certain she is now using, “Damn,” in context. I don’t think we swear too much, but damn is a pretty common refrain around the boat, and she’s picked that one up. Though if that’s the worst she comes up with I’ll be happy.
Quirks this month for Ouest continue to be the fact that she will not allow us to do anything with her hair. Nothing. Nada. And she also will throw herself on the floor in a meltdown if you try to convince her to wear a dress without a pair of pants underneath. This from the same girl who would happily walk down the sidewalk buck naked. Of course my mom would tell the story of the blue jeans with red stitching that I would sleep with under my pillow at night so that she couldn’t snatch them from me. Kids outgrow these little things pretty quickly, but she is really holding fast to the no hair accessories rule.
Kids. I love ’em.