Because, genetically, I have zero to do with it, I think it’s perfectly fair for me to boast about how brilliant our littlest stinker is. Not in any sort of comparison, but in merely reveling in how far he’s come.
He’s doing great with potty-training (though it’s not exactly conducive to having your home on the market), working on animal identification and sounds, naming body parts (hair, fingers, elbows, knees, ears, etc.) and grouping colors. He is learning how to field the most common question asked of him out of the home, “What is your name?”, which is proving to be a more challenging, abstract concept to teach.
He remembers to say “Thank you.” at the appropriate times, unprompted.
Our girls did all of these things long before twenty-eight months of age, but they weren’t learning a second language after a colossal disruption.
“[Little Man], do you want to go take a shower?”
“[Little Man], what does the monkey say?”
He also has a wicked sense of humor.
This is David-Bear (his namesake the title character of his favorite book, ‘No David!’).
He is THE chosen one, currently. Every day at both nap and bed times, he gets tucked in with Little Man as part of the nah-night routine. Each time, about 30 seconds after leaving the room, we hear loud cries for David-Bear, who has inexplicably jumped from the bed onto the floor and needs a good scolding before being tucked back in– Little Man giggling hysterically all the while.