Little Evan speaks his own language. I think it’s almost English but I can’t be sure, since most English speakers seem to have a hard time understanding him. Maybe it’s a NickJunioreese, a crazy mix of Spanish, Chinese, and speech-impedimented English picked up from those damn Wonder Pets.

“Meenah” is lemonade. Unless it means banana. You have to look around for a banana. “Peesdar!” is police car. He can say “car” correctly, but when he sees “flash lights” he gets to excited it comes out as one word. “Brusey” is our dog Brutus. He used to say Brutus until he spent some time with my parent’s dog Hershey, and now he smooshes their names together. “Ditty” is kitty, which is an improvement over the previous pronunciation. “Fall denoun” is fall down, which is so cute I don’t even care that it’s wrong. “Bushit” actually means push it, although I don’t think anyone believes me.

As much as I love that he’s friendly and outgoing and eager to talk to everyone, I’m getting tired of translating everything he says to strangers at the grocery store and strangers at the mall and strangers at the playground and strangers in general. I’m not tired at HIM, I’m tired at OTHER PEOPLE. I can only say “I’m sorry, he’s hard to understand” so many times. And the truth is, it’s more a matter of busy people not paying attention than anything else. See that pinecone he’s holding? Maybe he’s saying “pinecone!” You asked him if Caroline was his sister, maybe “bebeh siher” might mean “baby sister!” Most grown-ups rush in and say “Oh aren’t you handsome! How old are you? Are you a good boy? Bye-bye now!” all in one quick breath and then breeze back out without pausing for a response. Or if they do they’re really asking ME, and wouldn’t even notice if he tried to answer. Evan could say “I’m two, lady, and your wig isn’t fooling anyone” and they’d just coo some more and wander off to finish their shopping.

I’ve been around enough two-and-a-half-year-olds-who-then-grow-into-three-and-a-half-year-olds to know this is just a phase. His brain thinks thoughts he wants to share but his mouth just can’t keep up. He learns a hundred new words a day and can’t keep them all straight. Whole sentences come tumbling out in a jumble and he gets frustrated. He’ll grown into it eventually and the whole world will hear what he has to say Dino Dan and race cars and big diggers and baseball and everything else. He’ll stop saying “More meena peees!” and start saying “Mama, can I have a banana?”

Although yesterday he called me “MOM”. I am not OK with being MOM yet. MOM is for surly, eye-rolling teenagers. So maybe I don’t mind translating just a little longer.

If a genie came out of a lamp right now and offered me 3 wishes, they would all involve going back to the beach house on Kiawah Island and never ever leaving (after the wish for more wishes. DUH.) I would need the extra wishes to cover the bazillion dollars for maintenance and the electric bill and the toilet paper delivery guy. Because people who own beach mansions on gated islands can’t be expected to purchase their OWN toilet paper. If you happen to know of any genies looking for work, please send them my way.

(Totally unrelated side note except for the genie thing: we’re watching Aladdin right now with the kids for the first time as a way to ease back into home life and I am proud to report I can still recite all of it from memory.)

Leading up to this vacation, E was kind of…what’s a nice way to say “suffering from an epic eye-rolling condition?” I would say “Yah the BEACH!” and he would say “Blah, I hate sand.” I would say “I heard they have a fully stocked liquor cabinet!” and E would say “They sell beer in Connecticut.” I would say “It will be so nice to get away!” and he would sigh and say “But we have to drive SO FAR.” He was like Vacation Eeyore.

But besides a few screamy moments from the kids in the car – truly just a FEW and pretty justified on their part after so many hours strapped into carseats – it was the perfect vacation. It took E less than 10 minutes to be totally on board with the whole thing and become Vacation Dora The Explorer. “WOW! LOOK AT THIS POOL! IT IS GREAT! DON’T YOU LOVE THIS POOL? I LOVE POOLS! AGUA!”

I already mentioned that my friends were great with my kids, but it also helped that my kids were REALLY REALLY well behaved. All my (not unreasonable) fears about the toddler escaping the house and falling in the pool or running down to the beach proved unnecessary and he was more than happy to just hang out with whatever adult’s arms were currently empty. And besides the sleeplessness related to a brand new top tooth, Caroline was a tiny ginger angel who did nothing but coo and make doe-eyes at everyone. It FELT like a vacation, even with a 2-to-2 parent-child ratio, which is pretty damn amazing.

This here is the part where I post fifty bazillionty photos of the beach and the beach house and brag until you want to punch me in the face, so if you’re currently in your third straight year of never having a vacation that doesn’t involve sleeping on an air mattress while visiting your in-laws in Tulsa you might want to click away. I would totally hate you for going on this vacation too.

Beach house - front side

Beach House - beach side

Walkway to the beach

Low tide puddle stomping

I'm not sure that couch is big enough.

Floating spiral staircase

Looking up from the ground floor

One of the bedrooms NO ONE USED (There are six total).

The bathroom attached to the bedroom Little Evan used (We put the kids on the top floor to keep them away from the noise but accidentally took the two nicest bathrooms too)

Grow-your-own-train-set capsules with Aunt Sara

Having a very serious football talk with Erin's husband Elliot

Probably going on our Christmas cards

Father/daughter

Fun with our camera remote

Run fast!

I think I'm going to use this one for Caroline's Modern Bird art (minus my Photoshop effect)

We are smiling because the ocean was as warm as bath water

Bird chasing (taken with the super awesome paparazzi lens)

Windblown baby

Is there anything more joyful than a toddler running full speed towards someone who will catch him?

Flying

Pool area, complete with outdoor kitchen, outdoor bathroom and hot tub

Pool time

Someone loves the water

Underwater camera

Little Evan and Sara play "Jaws", where he makes you push him around the pool while he sings the theme song

We'll have her on a surf board by next summer

Is it too soon to start planning to do it again next year?

Hurricane Irene blew through Connecticut on Sunday:

Back patio at 8 am. For the record, we piled all the outdoor furniture over in that corner - the hurricane did not manage to stack our chairs quite so neatly.

This is a game called "Ew, you're stinky!" in which I get a whiff of the toddler's diaper and shout "Ew, you're stinky!" while poking him and making him laugh hysterically. We played for 45 MINUTES.

Rednecks. I'll forgive them since it was REALLY hot in the house with all the windows closed.

Fascinated by the storm

Biggest branch that came down. Luckily it came down on a bush and not through my window.

Skeptical baby thinks we are all fools for going outside.

We didn’t end up with much more than some broken branches and broken patio lights (we forgot to take them down) but being cooped up inside all day might have made us a little stir-crazy. As you can clearly see in the most embarrassing video of myself I will ever post on the internet.

The fact that Little Evan “played” dinosaur with me might be my best parenting moment to date so far.

Oh toddlers.

They’re so much fun when they’re not screaming in your face.

Unfortunately, we’ve been having a lot of in your face moments for the past few weeks. Evan’s favorite word is NO and he uses it every chance he gets. Even if he means “Yes please, that would be lovely Mother” he says NO.

Would you like some juice? NO JUICE! Would you like an apple? NO APPLE! Do you want to watch tv? NO TV! Do you want to go to the park and see our friends? NO FRIENDS! NO! NOOOOOO!!! *sobbing hysterics* *tears* *throws self on floor*

Evan, what’s wrong? JUICE! APPLE! TV! FRIENDS!! *sob sob sob sob*

Blarg.

Thank God for our new best friends, Nick Jr and Sprout and whatever other channel is planning something vaguely child appropriate that perhaps also includes a catchy song I will find myself singing later as I vacuum up pretzel crumbs (We got a green light! We’re gonna take a ride! Come on! What are you waiting foo-oo-or? It’s time to move it! It’s time to groove it! Are you ready? Cause here we goo-oo-oo!) Honestly, in the scheme of “things that get stuck in my head” the Fresh Beat Band is NOT THAT BAD. I may in fact actually…like that song. Don’t tell anyone.

I don’t feel even a teeny tiny little bit bad about letting Little Evan watch TV if it means no one gets smacked in the face, buried under a mountain of dirty laundry, or left at the fire station under the child surrender laws. (Not that I’VE ever Googled those in the midst of a meltdown. Nope.)

In the long run, my toddler learns to speak Chinese and I am a better parent. I see no problems.

Sometimes, even all the happy songs and Blue’s Clues on the planet can’t solve the huge, life destroying problems my toddler faces – such as “Why can’t I eat fourteen lollipops for breakfast?” or “Why did I get yelled at for punching my sister in the head?” Life’s mysteries are SO MYSTERIOUS when you are 2. And when you lack the words to explain why you are so upset, the only way to express yourself is flinging your body on the ground and hitting anything that comes within reach. Obviously.

I have learned the suggestion that one “take a deep breath and count to ten” when one is faced with those kinds of meltdowns isn’t just an expression or a general way saying “chill out”. For it to work, you have to ACTUALLY STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING, close your eyes, take several deep breaths in…and…out…and count to 10 VERY SLOWLY. It’s not going to stop the toddler’s behavior, but it will stop you from throwing your own tantrum in return.

Because that is my biggest parenting challenge: not responding like a toddler when faced with a toddler. Which sounds totally ridiculous – I am a GROWN ASS ADULT. I have leveled up appropriately and unlocked all the adult life achievements (college +1, apartment +1, marriage +1, mortgage +1, credit card + a zillion) and yet when someone screams in my face and lashes out it takes every ounce of my strength not to react in kind. It’s stupid and childish and makes me feel like I truly have absolutely no idea what I am doing when it comes to this parenting gig.

WHY ISN’T THERE A TEST? Or a LICENSE? Some sort of oversight program or home visit or preparedness class I had to attend before I was allowed to get pregnant? Why wasn’t I given some sort of practice training child I couldn’t screw up before I got the final draft? Terrible planning, mother nature. Terrible.

But despite all the toddlering going on, I am taking my deep breaths and learning to be patient. I remind myself (over and over and over and over)(and over and over and over) that this too shall pass. I refuse to argue with a 2 year old and pick my battles much more carefully – is it worth losing my cool over pajama shirts or hair washing or sandals or 3 more bites of dinner or keeping the cushions on the couch or how many blankets to bring downstairs or sharing the red truck instead of the blue truck or the five billion other things Little Evan wants to fight about every single day?

No. No it is not.

At the end of the day, he’s a wonderful boy (Especially at the literal end of the day – bedtime is one thing we’ve got worked out). Smart and funny and kind and generous and joyful and friendly. I look forward to spending time with him and seeing the world as the Super! Awesome! Exciting! Place! he thinks it is. We have such GOOD good times that it makes the bad days seem so much worse. I want to just grab him by the shoulders mid-meltdown and shout “WE COULD BE HAVING FUN! WHY AREN’T WE HAVING FUN?!”

But that’s not very grown-up of me.

I had to do the math TWICE to make sure 28 months wasn’t 2 and a HALF, but instead only 2 and a THIRD (and I’m still not 100% sure I’m right) because I am clinging to those extra 2 months like my life depends on it. Not that it’s doing me any good – my toddler isn’t even toddling anymore (he hasn’t really toddled in more than a year but whatevs) because he’s too busy running full speed into the deep end of the lake or away from me across the mall. Or into traffic. We’re working on “DANGER! STOP MOVING!” but unfortunately he seem to suffer from temporary hearing loss in parking lots. I suspect it’s a fairly common medical problem among toddlers.

Little Evan’s new obsession is TRUCKS. I am both pleased and saddened – I’m pleased I don’t have to hear about every single basketball net we pass in the car, but do you KNOW how many trucks we see on the way to…anywhere? Trash truck! Box truck! Trailer truck! Dump truck! Tow truck! FIRE TRUCK! FIRE TRUCK MAMA FIRE TRUCK!!!! He also knows where the fire stations are on our regular routes and starts talking about them as soon as we get in the car. I bought him a yellow dump truck toy at Target the other day and he slept with it during nap time. I ALSO bought him a pink baby doll stroller and a baby doll, since he freaked the freak out when he saw the “bebehs!” I hid them in the dining room and he forgot about them, so while I’m gone E can use the promise of brand new shiny toy to keep him in line. I suspect he will end up sleeping with both the stroller and the doll.

Little Evan has an excellent memory and great parroting skills – he’ll repeat anything (note: ANYTHING) you say and he loves to talk about things he did yesterday or last week or a month ago. I can understand his words about 90% of the time, although other people still have trouble. He can identify things by color now (ORANGE digger! BLUE bus!) and by size (BIG boat!) and sometimes brings me letters from his magnet set and tells me what they are. He loves to count “Five, six, GO!” or he says “Eight….nine…” when he’s playing Stroller Strides. I heard him count backwards from 5 to 1 the other day, but he won’t do it on demand. Apparently he doesn’t feel like performing as if he was my trained monkey. How rude.

We’re having a little trouble with his listening skills, but I blame that on being a toddler. The “I’m going to count to three” threat works REALLY WELL, although I’m actually not sure what I would DO if he ever let me get to three. Sometimes he also has trouble apologizing, even when he is literally hiding his face in shame because he know he did something wrong (and I am trying not to laugh because the face hiding is SO CUTE) but he both says and signs sorry and will give hugs and kisses to make it better.

Likes include all kinds of trucks, construction equipment, boats, water, Daddy, giving hugs, reading books, naps, his baby sister, sippy cups of milk, the farm, lollipops, the iPad, Angry Birds, the car carts at the grocery store, his two best toddler friends, running and jokes. Dislikes include holding hands, wearing sandals, sharing toys (unless he’s trying to trade for a better toy), being told he HAS to eat something, the baby touching his blanket, pooping on the potty (blarg) and being tired.

28 Month Milestones (from BabyCenter, as usual)

Mastered Skills (most kids can do)
• Jumps with both feet – He can now jump with both feet INTO something, like a lake or the pool or my lap. That last one isn’t always so fun.
• Opens doors – Yes and loves to do it. If I don’t let him open the back door when we come home I risk A Tantrum.

Emerging Skills (half of kids can do)
• Understands descriptions (e.g., big, soft) – Yes, as long as it’s one he’s heard before, although he remembers most stuff after hearing it JUST ONCE.
• Draws a vertical line – Yes! He has JUST decided he likes drawing and I’m looking forward to his gorgeous, museum quality pieces. He’s currently in his Purple Period, which means he refuses to color with any marker but purple.

Advanced Skills (a few kids can do)
• Starts to recognize ABCs – We’re still working on it, but he’s definitely improved a billion percent since I started worrying about it several months ago. I don’t think I’ve doomed him to a life of illiteracy after all.
• Balances on one foot – Easily. If I ever do end up selling him to the circus, he’s a shoe-in for the tightrope act.