My son is growing up

I don't often talk about my son in my blog. It's not due to privacy concerns; between my husband and myself, there are probably hundreds of pictures of him on Facebook. It's not that he isn't a great source of material, because he definitely is, and I love to read other people's blogs about their kids. I think it's because my blog is one of the few things I do for ME, so I try to keep my job and home out of it. But some things deserve to be shared...

My son's name is Michael, like his dad and grandfather. We call him Mikey. He is a mischievous little boy who will be two in May. He is super smart, stubborn, and knows how to get his own way. He refuses to chew foods, which is a constant source of frustration and doctor check-ups.

Mikey's favourite food is milk. He was a milk baby, and would still be that way if he had a choice. He has recently showed us that we can no longer trick him into thinking there is no more milk. When he wants a drink, he will pretend to untwist the lid to his sippy cup, hand it to either daddy or myself, and make grunting noises. We are then expected to fill it. Which we often do. This past weekend, when my husband took the milk jug out of the fridge, it was empty except for a few drops (wonder who put it away like that) and he told Mikey that, while pouring the few drops in the cup. "All gone, guess there's no milk for a drink. Want a snack instead?"

And my super bright kid reached in the fridge, grabbed a bag of milk off the shelf and handed it to his daddy. He was not to be fooled. It was hilarious, and so priceless. So obviously he got his milk.

As it becomes more and more obvious that Mikey is all boy, and no more baby, I'm sure I will have more tales to share. It's also a great way for me to record them to remember later. I have a horrible memory, and don't want to lose all the small steps that he is mastering all the time.