Only a few weeks shy of his birthday, I think it is safe to declare that we have a 2 year old on our hands. And, although I remain in stance that none of it is really the 2yrold’s fault, I have to admit that the bar has been raised on the tolerance scale. He’s independent. Scary independent. So independent that I am beginning to think that he’s actually turning 19 – not two. He’s stubborn…. like his parents AND he’s determined. This morning as we were walking at “the park” he took it upon himself to start RUNNING AWAY FROM ME. Fast. Running AWAY FAST. My legs are longer, so I have an advantage, but swooping to catch the 38-40″ 30something pounder  – running like he has wheels for legs sure made me look like the Wiley Coyote. Before I blow myself up with dynamite. But I refuse to lament. I will not be those people… “It’s only going to get worse”, “Just you wait” or “You didn’t sign on for this”… Because I did. We did. We signed on for all of it. And although my lower back aches from spontaneous movements of swooping, catching and trapping — oh and that cracking sound — those are my knees… We’ll take it all. Bring it on 2yrold. Bring it ON!

In other news, I’m proud to announce that Amanda, our sharp-tongued San Franciscan Guest Bird – aka Brilliant Sulk, finally came up with the city I am in – MUNICH, 1997, Girl in Black – thanks to all that played!

Throwback posts:
Yum
Where am I?
America’s Sweetheart