It's that time again, for the terrible twos. It's been hard to qualify when it started with Michael, since he is mostly nonverbal still, and spends much of the day whining about nearly everything. However, on an evening when he insisted upon taking his blanket into the bathroom- the confiscation of which resulted in an epic meltdown during teeth-brushing- and then followed his grand display of discontent with a staunch refusal to leave the bathroom (and leave off playing with the water from the faucet) even amidst reminders that his beloved blanket was waiting, I knew. We have arrived.
He doesn't say much, but he's mastered "no," and it's his response to nearly everything, whether he means it or not. Thankfully, when he's quite sure about what he wants he can be counted on to gift us with an enthusiastic "yeah!" but if he's distracted or on the fence, there will likely be some miscommunication to sift through before we get anywhere with him at all.
In the meantime, Mia's mirrored use of the word "no" has been strictly for fun. She repeats it like a mantra or favorite song, often set off by Michael's latest protestations nearby. Of course, it's one of any number of words she'll do this with, the most fun currently being "sit" (which she- of course- cannot yet say properly). I can tell that she's trying to figure out how to get her tush down on the seat- hard to do when she always starts by facing it and lifting up a foot- because she talks her way through each failed attempt.
She's learning a great deal at a great speed, the most notable achievement of which has been walking upright. It's hard to say exactly when she mastered the process, as her improvement has been so gradual, but I would say she progressed beyond walking only half the time about three or four days ago. It won't be long now before we hardly see her crawl again at all.
Perhaps the most fun and infuriating development of all, however, has been the sudden appearance of her trouble-making side. She's proven herself more prone than either of her siblings to eating vastly inappropriate things (she managed cat litter, candles, and a cough drop all in one week), and she's got an eye for finding exactly the kinds of things that she should not be messing with (and screaming bloody murder when they're inevitably taken away). She also delights in experimenting with cause-and-effect relationships, like the sound that her plate makes when it hits the floor.
The noise she makes afterwards makes it worth picking up her discards, though. That faux-surprise "uh-oh" just never gets old.
