I think last month I was desperately googling and pleading from my keyboard things like When does the crying end? and mentally noting that there hasn't been a day he's lived that he hasn't cried over something. Crying is expected from a baby, yes. But there's gotta be a mental limit.
Now? I kind of just have an overly sensitive, dramatic, foreign exchange roommate-friend that I'm teaching English (and life) to.
The part where it's noticeably easier.
He lets me brush his teeth without a fight.
He'll try almost any food once.
He understands what it means to wait while I'm getting ready. He can entertain himself.
He'll take No for an answer. As long as I give him an explanation.
We can carry him to bed while he's limp with sleep, and he won't wake up.
He won't go out the door without shoes. And! He can put them on himself.
He'll go get me a diaper.
He'll attempt to give an actual answer when I ask Why?
He smiles for pictures. Until I'm taking too many.
Conversations are made of broken sentences instead of tantrums.
I get to laugh all day yet. He adds the word yet to the end of all his sentences.
We can't [blank] until we [blank]. Works for everything.
We can go (unnoticeably to the public eye) to restaurants and grocery stores again.
He gives compliments on shirts, nails and makeup. They are, most commonly, Ree-wee nice.
Personal time. It's happening.
Stores that have toys. Yeah, they suck.
He knows how to use the potty. Except he doesn't want to, and the poops aren't getting any smaller.
He's having dreams about mean monsters and running to our bed every night.
With what little vocab he can pronounce, he mocks things Matt & I say.
Sharing means we're proposing war.
He still follows me all day, around the entire house.
He wants toys that match whatever new show he's into.
He carries around toenail clippers, calls them his gray phone and has conversations on them.
He hates to be dirty.
He asks to see his poop to analyze how yucky it was after his diaper gets changed.
His favorite things are swimming pools, sweets, Daddy and anything with wheels.
He doesn't really play with his toys as much as he just carries them around.
He put himself down for a nap once without telling me where he was going. In his bed. Covers and all.