Concerning Robert

Robert is nearly 21 months old (he'll hit the mark officially on the 26th), and as such has been walking for a full year. He is surprisingly articulate, and is generally good natured. (Don't get me wrong: the kid certainly knows how to throw a tantrum. But he's happy, active, and giggling far more often than not.) Simply "just because," I want to devote a post to all the random cutenesses that make Robert who he is, and that I really don't want to forget in the coming years.

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Robert purrs when he eats. No, really. He makes this little "mmm mmm" sound whenever he eats: he doesn't seem to be aware of the noise, and it seems to happen automatically. It is like nothing so much as a cat purring when you stroke its back.

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Robert took a little longer getting into the book thing than his brother, but is now (finally) hooked on the activity. When he's not running around maniacally with his brother or playing with toys, he is following me around the house, book in arms, informing me that he "wahn read... book, Mommy!"  And, like the proverbial mouse with its proverbial cookie, once you read him one, he's gonna want another -- and another.

(True story: Joseph and I made the mistake of letting the boys open the books sent to them by their Grandparents Miller for Christmas first. We spent nearly half an hour reading several Curious George books before the boys let us continue with the rest of the presents.)

Incidentally, he is rather hard on books. I never thought that was Edward particularly kind to books until Robert became interested in them. On any given day, I have a stack of books waiting on the dryer for me to repair the many torn or torn-out pages inflicted on them by an over-exuberant toddler. Our library is fast becoming more plastic and adhesive than paper.

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Robert loves to help me in the kitchen. When I head to the kitchen to begin dinner preparations, he heads to the table and starts pushing a chair over toward the counter so that he can help out. Although he enjoys licking spoons and snitching cheese or chicken (or whatever), his favorite thing to do is help me pour ingredients into the Kitchenaid whenever I use it, and to help press buttons or flick switches on whatever appliance I find occasion to use. Although I've never let him crack and dump an egg for himself, he adores handing eggs to me one at a time as I need them: in the 6 months or so that he has been my self-designated sous-chef, he has only ever dropped one egg. The kid's a natural.

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Speaking of his cooking skills, Robert will spend a half hour or more in rapturous delight looking through my cookbooks. He will do this even with cookbooks lacking pictures, but his favorite recipe book of all time is Ice Pops (which we got for two of our relations for Christmas last month, on his recommendation). He flips through pages very slo-o-owly, excitedly shouting "pah-cles" whenever he spots a picture. He takes this book to bed with him for most naps, and will "read" himself to sleep with it.

For all those parents with reluctant sleepers: a blanket and a cookbook is all it takes! (Ha! If only...)

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Robert is (too) quickly growing out of the cuddly baby stage and into the independent, no-I-have-to-walk-down-the-stairs-all-by-myself-no-matter-how-big-a-hurry-you're-in stage. So I'm getting all my kisses in while I can. Whenever I plant a kiss on his head (more or less a million times a day), he announces: "a kih!" as though he's surprised to have received yet another kiss from his mother.

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Robert has this goofy, super-excited two-step jig that he does whenever he's excited. (Which is just about all the time.) Mommy's getting him milk? Happy jig! He's getting dressed? Happy jig! It's bath time? Happy jig! He's walking down the hall? Happy jig!

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Robert is just beginning to get a concept of counting: he can't count himself, and I'm not sure he knows what the purpose of counting is, but he knows when I am counting. When he hears the familiar refrain of "one... two... three," he excitedly pitches in with "fie!" [five], which word he associates with counting. And then, of course, he wants to "give me five" (hand slap), just to prove he knows how the world works.

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If you ask Robert a yes/no question, he will respond with a firm "yesss!" Not necessarily because that's his answer, mind you, but because "no" seems to have dropped out of his vocabulary for the time being. (I don't expect this to last.) If he strongly objects to a situation, he has other, stronger words to express his feelings. And by "words," I mean "screaming."

If you inform Robert of something -- i.e., "that's not a bear, silly, that's a mole!" -- he will respond with a firm "oh!" He says this a lot, and actually remembers what you told him next time it becomes relevant.

If I need Robert to do something for me -- i.e., "we're going into the bank now, Robskers, and I need you to stay with me. No climbing the stairs this time." -- I let him know, and he will either (1) giggle maniacally, which means he understands but has no intention of complying, or (2) say "okay!" and be as docile as I've asked. (But no more: this kid knows how to push boundaries "obediently.") He stayed at my side in the bank, and didn't even look at the stairs, much to my relief. (There's a story there, but this post is already too long.)

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I have no idea where he got this, but if Robert is himself the recipient of a no -- that is, if things don't go his way -- he will run away and fling himself on his bed screaming. Edward has never done this. I have never done this. Joseph has never done this. To my knowledge, he has never witnessed a neighbor or other child do this: it's something he's done from the moment he could crawl. The kid has an inborn flair for the overdramatic, I guess.

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Robert is a star-gazer of sorts, and points out the "mooooo-ooon!" whenever he sees it during a walk or from the car, or if the orb/crescent is spotted in a book.

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Robert has had a runny nose for approximately 3 months now: the constant leakage will not go away. Fortunately, he is nothing like his brother was for the first two years of his life: instead of running away and gyrating his head madly when I approach his face with a tissue, Robert comes to me to ask for a  "nose wite" [nose wipe] several times a day. And he stands there, still of face, until the deed is done. What toddler does that, I ask you?

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Robert has all of our names down: "Mommy!"; "Daddy!"; "Rahbeet!"; and, of course, "Ehk-kers!" [Edskers].

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This tongue --

-- is rarely out of sight when Robert is excited. If his thumb isn't in the mouth, then his tongue probably isn't either.

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When he thinks I'm not looking, this is how Robert entertains himself:

His shoe fetish is actually rather surprising, given that it is almost impossible to convince him to leave his own shoes on his feet. Whenever we go anywhere, I need to add 2+ minutes to our ETA to allow for putting his shoes and socks back on before he exits the car.

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I love you, my little Robskerfloofs: here's to many more wonderful years to come!