Holden: Two years, Eight months

We know it's supposed to happen, but it's still astonishing the amount of growing kids do. Recently, Holden has begun accomplishing with ease some mundane tasks he struggled with. He rides his tricycle on his own, can hold his fingers up to show the No. 2 and jumps off of ledges, sometimes with a running start, without hesitation. We stand around with our mouths half-open, wondering when this baby started to become such a kid.


And not to jinx ourselves, but we've also noticed that the whining and the meltdowns are dwindling. Don't get us wrong, he still has his fair share of bawling bouts for no reason, but we can now look back at a day - or even days - and find it hard to remember seeing any of the long, drawn out tear-fests that previously dominated our lives.*


Now we're seeing him transition to some of the threeisms we've been warned about. Constant streams of, "What doing?" are asked, peppered with frequent, "Why?" We know that this is his way of learning, and we try to be patient and give him simple, honest answers. But by the time we've narrated turning on the water, putting hands under, putting soap on, scrubbing, rinsing, turning the water off and drying ... well, patience wears thin.

What's been the biggest delight is to see him develop is a sense of comedic timing. Holden's always loved to giggle and laugh, but now he's starting to get the art of a joke ... usually. While he doesn't tell riddles yet, he thinks it funny to play the What Is This? Game. We'll point to a dog and tell him it's a cat, and he's in stitches. Tell him Mommy is Daddy, he's hysterical. Then he joins in the game, sometimes surprising us with his own funny endings, like pairing peanut butter with car. What's more, he pauses for just the right amount of time before delivering the punchline. To him, this is comic genius.

With all that he's doing, it's hard to remember that he's still really new. No brainers to us, like all that is wonderful about cookie dough, are still unknown and scary to him. Yes, you read that right, our son actually recoiled at the sight of cookie dough. I thought it was in our genes to go full throttle ahead, tongues hanging out, at the very sound of a mixer.


We've been talking a lot with Holden lately about the importance of family and friends, and respecting others. We've been trying to use this lesson when Riley is sleeping, since Holden still hasn't found his volume switch. But I think, beyond letting other people in the house get some rest, Holden is beginning to get that we're all in this together. While it's fun to go out and see others, his Mom, Dad and brother are his family, his heart and his home. Sometimes, when we turn the corner to our street, Holden will comment about going home. Then, in a sentiment that makes me choke with emotion, he'll add: "Our family lives here. Us. Yeah!"

*Just a few hours after I wrote those words, Holden turned what is normally a 90 second ritual of putting pajamas on into a 20 minute breakdown. It finally ended with Kevin walking out, leaving Holden wailing, having lost his stories for the night ... but then returning less than a minute later to give him another chance. Holden responded, "I'm ca-ca-ca-calm now," through his tears, and they quietly read The Parrot Tico Tango and sang some songs.