Bubs is two tomorrow. I'm serious when I say he was hardly a baby. He went from laying on my chest in the hospital to walking around the house, saying, "Hey Mom, ya know what?!" and telling Knock, Knock jokes. All in about two months. Maybe six.
He wasn't very old when he started climbing to the boys' top bunk. For awhile, I took away the ladder, but he started climbing his sister's bunk, and the ladder is part of the bed. We decided he'd just have to be big enough to understand, "Go down the LADDER. NOT over the side. If you go over the side, you could die."
And now he still crawls up, points to the railing, and says, "Dangerous? Don't go DOWN there??" And I agree that yes, it is, and no, he shouldn't.
The boy climbed before he could walk, and it seems that he was wheeled out of the delivery room reciting the Webster's Dictionary. He has whole conversations with his Batman and Spiderman guys: "You are pink?" (voice change to low) "No, I am blue." (Everything is blue...colors are not his thing) "I think you are blue. Are you wanting to eat?" (voice change again) "No, I want to go away." (voice change) "Can you get your shoes on then??" And so on.
It's usually something worth mentioning if M is quiet for more than 30 seconds. B said today, "Mom, M is being quiet!" And I reminded B that M's mouth was stuffed full of peanut butter. He couldn't get his lips apart.
The thing is? He can say every word you ask him to say, including Gabrielle, licorice, and elevator (which the big kids still call an alligator). But ask him to say his name, and the kid cannot get it out. "I'm Ornan," he announces, "Ornan Micah. I am gonna get the bad guys."
So, Happy Birthday Big Boy Ornan. We're glad that we know you. You are a RIOT to have around. Love you tons and like crazy!
