My dear dear dear little baby boy is on his last last last days of being one. Actually, exactly a month until he’s two. What happened to my baby!???
Now Isaac tromps around the house like he owns the place with one hand down his pants and on his butt and the other one touching something it shouldn’t. He DEMANDS spoons and only the particular kind he feels like playing with at that moment. I do not have many spoons left in my drawers because they are all in his room…or in a dusty corner that I’m too scared to look in.
He mainly does that. Get’s in to trouble with one hand in his pants and plays with spoons. For his birthday…buy him spoons. Cookwear is also a favorite, and cords.
He’s aquired many more nick names these past two years…other than Ikey. Caveman, Angel of Destruction, Plague Carrier, etc. I think Caveman fits best because I’m pretty sure that’s the era he should have been born in. He just seems so sturdy and I think if he was left in the forest to survive on his own he would survive and become this wild ferral child.
I think he might already be one. Especially when he stuffs his face with chocolate cake and lets out this muffled maniacle laugh. I’m pretty sure he’d do the same with raw deer meat stuffed in his face too…I just have a feeling.
I’m not quite sure how a child can be so horrible and so delightful all at the same time but Isaac seems to pull it off rather well. One moment I’m growling at him for taking the meat cleaver off the counter and the next I’m chewing on his cheeks because, well, they’re delicious and I can’t get enough of them. Plus his voice is so darn sweet, I love to hear it, even when it’s saying “spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon spoon” as I’m trying to cook supper. I like it most when I says “I love you mommy, I love you daddy”.
What a horribly wonderfully terrifying super duper brilliant evil malicious delicious child I have.