I know it's been a long time since I've updated this. I've been swamped at work!
Basically, things are pretty much the same. Brent still has his rash for some reason. It comes and goes, and as long as I keep lotion on him and keep him from getting too hot and sweaty, it seems to not bother him too much. The doctor put him on prednisone for three days and that helped a lot. But it came back as soon as the three days were over. I'm not going to keep letting them experiment to see what the problem is, so if it continues too much longer, I will probably take him to an allergist or a pediatric dermatologist.
I'm amazed at how much he's talking now! All of a sudden instead of "car", it's "a reh car", or "a geen truck". I don't even know where it came from. If you hand him something, it's not uncommon to hear "tanka da-da". And he's even found his yes's again! He still loves to say no, but occasionally you will hear "uh huh" when he really wants something.
Yesterday during nap time, he just wouldn't get to sleep. Finally I gave in and went to see what was troubling him. I figured he needed his diaper changed, so I laid him down and got to work on that. And he's yelling at me...."Eeee, Eeee!". Oh! I know that one! "Do you want something to eat?", I asked. "uh-huh, Eeee!", he said while nodding his head. I was leery that maybe he was learning new and inventive ways to get out of the crib, but I took him out and fed him anyways. He really was hungry, it turned out. And when he had finished eating, he looked at me and said "all done. Night night". I took him back to his crib and he went to sleep without too much of a fuss.
So as you can see, we're getting dangerously close to having actual conversations. Sometimes in the car, we'll muse about where "dada" is. I'll ask if he's at work, or it he's at home, etc. For some reason, the answer is always no until you get to bathtub. Who knew that dada spent so much time in the bathtub, especially when he should be at work!
He's also getting much more refined in his tantrum throwing. We make the joke (bad though it is) similar to the South Park running joke of "Who killed Kenny?". If Brent wants to go outside, and we've locked the door (yes...he can open all the doors now...[sigh]), he will wail for about two seconds, then throw himself down onto his back on the floor and just stare blankly at the ceiling. We ask each other..."Daddy...did you kill Brent?". "No, must've been you this time", and so on. It truly is a bad joke, but the look on Brent's face is so funny as he watches us go back and forth with it. You just know he's wanting to laugh, but he tries so hard to remain stonefaced.
Of course, the downside to all this growing, is that every day I lose a little bit of my 'baby'. Sometimes you can hardly spot him at all under those mischevious expressions or those toned muscular legs that have magically eaten all of his adorable baby fat. I poke at his belly button and wonder where all his playful blubber went to. Where did this lean torso come from, which allows me free access to such a cute little belly button?
I use the word toddler in frantic hopes that it will add some more baby time onto all this. But soon...I may have to bring out the big guns. I'm afraid every day that he's getting closer to being a ... boy. Watch out, world :)
