22 months

Tornado A lifted up his shirt and patted his belly.  “BELLY!”

He toddled over to me, pulled up my shirt, and patted my belly.  “BELLY!”

No, no, not belly, baby.

Um, oops.

“Good job, Tornado A!  Belly!  You’re right!”

A few weeks ago, it felt like ghosts of memories were rising from the floor as Tornado A toddled around, ran after his brothers, babbled, and threw things.  He was a tornado.  Just like his brothers.  22 months crystallized in my head what a toddler was like because of the major events in our lives at that time.

When Tornado E was 22 months, I was hugely pregnant with my best friend back in my life and a marriage on the rocks.  Tornado E carried around a little flashlight, counted to 16 by 2s, said his ABC’s perfectly, and played like he was 8 because his best friends were 10.  Tornado E would stand at the living room window waiting for “Osh” to come outside, getting up early to wave goodbye as they left for school and standing there in the afternoon waiting for homework to be done.  “Ucy” lived next door to “Osh,” and when Tornado E came running to play they toned down their games and let him join them.

Now I look at Tornado A, weeks away from two, and he is bound and determined to be 6.  Whatever Tornado E can do, Tornado A can too.  Tornado A caries around his Mama Shirt or teddy bears or cars.  He’s babbles more and more.  Words are popping out of the babble more and more with TornadoE excited to translate.  He’s even translating right and what Tornado A actually wants.

When Tornado S was 22 months, we moved to Arizona to a house less than half the size with the agreement that the ex worked 2 weeks in AZ and 2 weeks in CA.  I have blog posts to document the tornado in action.  He carried around his blankie.  The first week he had his own bed, he went to bed early by himself.  Anything Tornado E could do so could he, including sports, riding bikes, and crafts. Some ventures turned out better than others.  He liked cars and toy people, spending hours on end playing with toy people, placing them in cars and driving them about.  He made up stories and worlds, content to play by himself.

Tornado A gets to play with toys that should be to advance for him.  But he loves playing with the toy people and trucks.  He can be perfectly fine sitting there playing with his toys.  Unless I’m cooking, and then  he has to help.

Like the other stages in their lives, I like this one the best.

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