So, firstly, you never sleep, and that really sucks.
However.
You talk a lot. You sing Twinkle Twinkle Wil Staw, How I Wonder What Aw. Up Abuh Woo High, Wike a Di Eye, etc. There’s lots missing, ok, but it’s mostly there. Also, Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer. The most clear line in that song is “Ha shineeee nose!” Every time you see Santa Claus or somebody that looks like him, you say, with evident delight – “Wook! Bappa Pawz! Ho ho ho!” Christmas is long gone, but you still see Bappa Pawz everywhere.
You jump all over Jack and demand that he play horsey. I can explain things to you – fairly complicated things – and you just get them. I can even explain why you can’t do something, and I know you understand me. Sometimes you’ll repeat my instruction later – “No put, hurt you.” (In reference to sticking things in the light socket.) No more nigh nigh, Jack. Jack, no crying. Mama, can I hold you? You call your high chair “hungry.”
You are so damn smart. It’s really kind of scary how smart you are, how quickly you learn, how diabolically clever you can be. It’s kind of worrying how you ignore most instruction, and chuckle evilly when we stop you from doing something wrong. You are a seriously devilish little dude.
But you’re so smiley. It’s like your little apple cheeks were painted on. I could take a bite out of them! You love me the best. If you cry at night, and I go in to check on you, you glom onto me for the rest of the night. Sleep is no longer an option, you just want to play with me. god, I wish you’d sleep, but at least you’re perky and affectionate.
You’re crying right now. 10pm. God almighty. If I survive your babyhood, it will be a miracle.