Happy birthday, my little man! What a year
it has been for my mischievous monkey. You're at the phase right now when you do something new every single day. Lately, that's been most evident in your vocabulary, which has expanded to about 50 or so words, about 30 percent of which I can make out on first listen. You're very polite and aren't stingy with a "Dant Doo" (thank you) and "Saw-wee" (sorry). You call Goofy "Foofy" and waffles "faffles." You say "cookie" perfectly (and often). You do, however, have a few sayings no one can figure out. Occasionally, you'll look me dead in the eye and insist "beaglebeaglebeaglebeaglebeagle." I have no idea what this means but whatever it is, it's urgent. It can't be that important though because I have never once responded to this in a manner that satisfies you and you eventually get fed up and let it go. No clue. You also just recently started saying, "This is-is so," usually when you want to share something with someone. I think you might be going for, "This is for you." Maybe? When your sister was this age, she followed me around for a week screaming, "PANTSUIT!" until I realized she was saying "PETTING ZOO," so who knows?
With all this new chatting, your personality is emerging like crazy. We affectionately call you Frank the
Tank (a nod to the classic movie "Old School" stolen 100 percent from our friends who have a son your exact age that shares many of your...endearing...characteristics). You're basically the really happy stumbling drunk at every frat party. You stump around the house, looking for things to amuse yourself (or, more frequently, to eat) and just want to talk to everyone and hang out and have fun. And much like Frank who's all about streaking, you prefer to be naked.
This is your future.
Some things
have not changed. You still love your sleep and your food — all food, though
pizza (which you called pete-zee for an adorable couple of months) reigns
supreme. You can crush half a pie no problem and still ask for more (another
one of your new favorite words). The only thing you love more than food and
sleep is your sister. Libby is like another limb to you. Where she goes, you
go. What she does, you do. If
she’s at school, you ask me where she is every eight minutes. If she goes to the bathroom, you ask where she is every eight seconds. And while she
occasionally complains when you steal her toys (or, far worse, her spotlight) I
suspect the feeling is mutual.
The other
top contenders for your heart are animated. You start asking to watch “Muppet
Babies” (which you call “Mupp-Bebe”) the second you open your eyes in the
morning and continue asking all day long. There are about 30 episodes and I can easily recite the dialogue verbatim and sing every lyric of
every song. Libby often unconsciously mouths along with the script while she’s
watching with you. When a new episode is released (once every never it seems)
it’s cause for legit celebration in the LaBar household. Your second favorite
show, if you can call it that, is “Little Baby Bum,” a never-ending loop of
nursery rhymes sung by British children voicing characters that include
barnyard animals who, terrifyingly, are the exact same size as the humans. Lib
was into this for a while and I was just so, so happy when she wasn’t anymore.
Alas, I am once again a slave to the Bum. You also got seriously into "Frozen II" for a hot second and like to belt out "Into the
Unknown" at full voice complete with your own choreography. You absolutely outshine Elsa.
You rode a
plane and went to Disney World with the family for the first time this year.
You loved spending time with everyone and splashing in the pool at the house. However,
you spent most of the time at the parks like this:
Not a bad
situation, if you ask me.
You did perk
up when it was time to meet some of your favorite characters though:
That’s a look of pure love if I’ve ever seen one.
You also
went to Ocean City for the first time, where you again really dug all the
family time (and quite a few holes in the sand) but generally preferred
chillin’ in the baby pool at the giant basecamp we’d set up on the beach.
Miserable.
Like always.
You got your
first haircut, courtesy of Aunt Kim. I expected tears but you barely flinched
throughout the entire thing. The tears did come, however, courtesy of me.
Why are you
40?
While I wish
I could say life is all “Baby Bum” and pizza as we start your third year on
this planet, the truth is things are really weird right now. Coronavirus has brought life to a bit of a standstill while we all are in quarantine
and practicing social distancing, meaning you don’t get to do a lot of your
favorite things like play in the park, go out to eat, or hug your extended
family. But there has been a bright spot in the middle of all this uncertainty.
Because he’s working from home, you’ve been able to spend more time with Daddy
than ever. It’s been amazing to watch your bond grow as you seek him out
throughout the day and crawl up into his lap or pat the floor next to you while
you’re playing and demand he “SIT!” with you. You’re such a mini version of
him, and I can tell you both love your new role as his official sidekick.
It just goes
to show that you have a way of bringing joy to every situation. You make us all
laugh constantly. You’re super affectionate and lovey. You are just so fun and
sweet, and I’m so lucky I get to see that every day. I can’t wait to see what
Frank gets up to in the coming year.
Love,
Mummy
