Cdc

Cdc is quite the little guy around our house. And soon he won't be our baby any more. In so many ways that makes me sad, because he has fit his role so well. For a long time I simply called him "baby." It was his little nickname. He is such a good little cuddler, he's got such a good baby voice, he sucked his thumb, and he's excellent at living up the attention the youngest is generally given.

But alas, the time has come for him to move on to big brother. And he knows it, and we don't think he likes it very much. Either that, or he has just been trying to live up the time he has left. Because even though he is totally in a "mastery motivation" stage where he wants to do everything "all by myself!", he still acts like a baby a lot of the time. He reverts to baby talk. He wants me to just hold him a lot (which is kind of tricky with this baby bump). He cries and says "mama" in a baby voice when he is sad. And the list goes on and on. And he's been doing this for about 6 months I think. I'm really hoping that the moment he gets to meet little sister, he realizes he needs to grow up a bit - because this really is getting old. I try not to wish away my children's childhood - but I'm not doing a very good job on this account.

However, he is "Tough Guy" around our house. We are always amazed at how well he handles scraped knees, bumps and falls. He was definitely meant to be Cpc's little brother, because there's a good chance any other kid would have caved under Cpc's attacks.

Cdc still takes naps, which is good and bad. If we don't wake him up after an hour then he will keep Cpc awake at bedtime forever! Cdc has officially named his dog "Woodruff," which was a suggestion by daddy after months of us asking what his dog's name was and getting a response of "woof woof." This led Cpc to naming his Moose (which he has become attached to, and led him to gifting his dog to me and his bear to daddy) "Randolph" - since we pass through Woodruff and Randolph on our way to Bear Lake.

Cdc has quite the attitude. He is not afraid at all to tell his parents "no" which often leads to long, drawn-out tantrums and time-outs. He also picks up the funniest phrases, and we're often surprised that he's even heard some of the ones he comes up with. Last night he told daddy "talk to the hand." I'm really not sure if he even knew what he was saying!

But he's a sweet kid too. Just this morning I gave him a little pile of laundry to put away in his drawers and he has told me "thank you very much" no less than 18 times.

And even though I have a million more things about him I want to cherish right now - that's all I can think of, and I've got to get to other things too.