In the time between, Vin and I have been getting to know each other better as he's morphing into a regular little person. It's funny to see his little personality develop. He's discovered that making a scrunched up smiling face at me and laughing is something we both find hysterical.
He's very particular about what he wants. The words aren't there yet, but he makes it clear with pointing and looking from THAT AWESOME THING to me to AWESOME like What do I have to do to get you to give me that? That wonderful red bottle with the squishy top that I would like to CHEW ON NOOOOW! Then I have to play dumb while also selling him on the idea that, No, the baby Tylenol is really not that great, but OH! Oh, look over here! A stuffed animal, how cool is that Vincent? To which he responds, "Lady, red bottle. Squishy Top. Hand it over now."
It's the conversations like this that stimulate my little brain most. The fact that I actually think we are conversing probably makes me some kind of crazy candidate. Yesterday I actually tried to explain to my mother in law the nuances of his language. "He'll say, Nuoh - "
"Oh, I know what that means."
"No, not 'no.' Nuoh. Nuoh means bottle or milk. Or... something. I don't know what he thinks it is, but it's different. 'NO!' is No, I don't want that. 'Nuoh' is I'm ready for my bottle of milk and possibly a nap, please." I looked at her. "Really."
She looked doubtful. A smart and lovely woman, but clearly missing the basics here. I think I then looked at her like he looks at me. I often think of the time Matt turned to me, after explaining why he had to get the Goya brand dried pinto beans and said, voice dripping with condescension, "It's really not that difficult, Joy."
It isn't, but perhaps it does take some time to learn. We have been spending a lot of time together - we had a whole week at the cabin (a post FULL of billions of pictures is soon to follow here, I swear.) And again this week it's all me and Vin all the time. Matt's in Morris, MN doing some training for his job. So, the two of us have had a lot of Mom & Boy time.
I showed him how awesome it is to go down a slide at the park (getting a massive shock in the process - what is UP with plastic slides that do that? How has no one figured out how to make it stop?) He has shown me the usefulness of all my kitchen utensils in new and exciting ways. Tongs can be used for stirring air in big plastic containers and are, in fact, hilarious. Wooden spoons are meant for alternately petting and terrorizing the cat.
The plastic garage thing that Auntie Ali bought him is not actually for rolling cars on, but for standing on top of while holding down the "DING DING! DING DING!" button with his toes.
Also, he showed me how to walk all the way around our block yesterday. He stumbled a couple of times and we were barefoot (how was I supposed to know how far we were going?) He LOVED the adventure, but one time after he gamely, got up and started trotting down the street again, I noticed that he was bleeding. He'd scraped his toe and it was bleeding and in the dirt. I furtively looked around for Child Protection people that were surely coming to crown me, Worst Mother Ever (total 'F' Mom moment - another one for the report card of my days.) I tried to stop him, coddle him, assure him it was fine, but he just squirmed to be put down. Finally, he stopped, looked at me and I swear I could see him thinking, "Really, Mom. It's no big deal," before taking off again.
It's a long road, but I think he'll teach me how to do this in the end.
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