He’s the same Max, just more talkative and even more mischievous. He thrives on being praised when he does well, but (unfortunately) he also thrives on the attention he gets from his mischievous antics.
We really do try to keep him in line. All it takes is 5 minutes while I’m changing the baby or doing some other task…and Max is QUICK! I swear he must lay awake at night, thinking of the things he’s going to try in the coming day. (Perhaps I need to lay awake at night trying to think of what Max might try in the coming day? Ha!)
Now, some moms might let their children pudding paint for the sensory experience. Unfortunately, this was NOT the case here. This is called “mom left the room to get the baby from her crib during lunch”. (It’s also called “mom is grateful that she removed clothing before lunch because we were having tomato soup”.)
This one is called “Max finished breakfast, put himself in the dog’s cage, and screamed if Mom tried to remove him”.
Mischievous or not, we LOVE this little boy. He’s noisy, a ball of motion, and a whole lot of excitement. He’s also a snuggly little sweetheart.
As soon as he gets out of bed each morning, he runs to me to snuggle for about 5 minutes. I love those moments!
This is a rare occurence, but one morning I couldn’t find him ANYWHERE. He wasn’t answering when I called him. I was about to panic, checking the bathrooms in case he’d fallen in the toilet or something scary. But look where he was, snuggled up in the chair, sound asleep…
Max still LOVES to hold his baby sister. He won’t ask, but his face LIGHTS UP when I ask if he wants to hold her. (Then he turns around 5 minutes later, and he’s hitting her on the head with a plastic hammer…but that’s another story…)
He begs to ow-side every day. He loves to ride his “bysk” (his word for bike), which is a little John Deere scoot-style tractor. He adores balls, airplanes, choo-choo trains, and tractors and construction vehicles.
We’re starting to realize how much is going on in that little mind now, as Max is reaching the point where he can say anything if he tries. (No sentences yet, but he’ll string a few words together from time to time. He’s getting there!)
This post is a little short & sweet compared to some, but that’s all I’ve got.
Even though you wear us out, we love who God made you to be.
We love ya, little buddy. Happy 22 Months!