Almost two and a half. Look at me!

Dear Jordan,

This smidgen of video pretty much sums you up lately:

I don't mean that in a bad way. I think you're acting like a very typical two-year old. And the fact is, you have good reason to think the world revolves around you. Very candidly, we're all about you, all the time. We just love you so much.

The other day Dad asked me when I thought boys grow out of being so self-absorbed, and I said, "I think right about...when they die."

He didn't think it was as funny as I did.

But the truth is, while you're very MEMEMEMEME!, you're also very sweet and thoughtful. You regularly go around the room and ask us how we're doing, and you wait for each of us to reply before moving on.

"You OK, Mama?" "Yes, thank you."

"Are you OK, Nana?" "I'm OK, Jordan."

"Daddy, are you OK, Daddy?" "Yes. Are you OK?"

"I'm OK."

You've also begun giving praise for tasks well done. The other night you told me, "Mama, you did a very good job with your dinner!"

Or you'll say things like, "Daddy put clothes on me. He did a very good job."

And while you don't thank us regularly for doing things like giving you a glass of milk, you'll gush about something out of the blue. Like when Nana got home from the store and you inspected her purchases and said, "Oh, thank you for buying me more oatmeal, Nana!"

"Thank you for putting on my warm socks, Mama!"

As you talk more and more, we get a bigger picture of what's going on in your mind. It's really cool.

Your dad takes you on weekend adventures to places like the firehouses around town, and to Rock Creek to throw stones in the river. The other day he took you to the stables down there. And these are things you talk about for days and days afterward.

He also tends to buy you a treat on every adventure, so now you also ask to go to The Treat Store.

The other night you were up when we peeked in on you around ten, and so Dad sat with you in the dark while you chattered away. You listed all the places we don't climb because we could get hurt.

"We don't climb on the dresser because we could fall."

"And we don't climb on the elephant shelf because we could fall down and that would hurt." (The shelf way up high on the wall with mirrored Indian elephants which are specifically up high because I'm not inclined to let J destroy them. And now I know he's scheming the scaling of the wall to get to them.)

It turns out, my darling, that you've given thought to climbing on every single object in the house. Even the precipitously high shelves and cabinets. Good to know, I guess, although I don't know what's to be done about it.

I'm glad you're still in a crib and in sleep sacks, which hamper your leg-over-the-side abilities. But not for long...

It's not all sunshine and puppy breath, however.

You've almost cut out the whining, but you've replaced it with hitting and sometimes even biting when you're super frustrated. I can occasionally head you off by asking if you want to make Mama cry. And you stop and look as if you're going to burst into tears yourself. "I don't want to make Mama cry."

But the other day you bit me hard enough to leave a bruise on my arm. When you get into the windmill hitting, I know you're just so worked up...but I don't know what to do about it. Your dad can hold you at arm's length until you calm down. And we can do time-outs.

And last weekend I was carrying you down the hall towards your room, which you were pissed about, and you started hitting and clocked me on the side of the head. You're now so big and strong, and it hurt terribly, and I dropped you. I dropped you onto your feet, but you still fell down, and it made you hysterical.

This wasn't my goal - I just wanted you away from where you could hit my face again. I know there must be constructive approaches; I have to do some research on this.

Those are the less common occurrences, though. Mostly you're entertaining and delightful. Not always cooperative, necessarily, particularly where bedtime is concerned. And often exhausting.

As the head of our day care said, when I told her how tired I am, and how adding another is kind of daunting: "Most children are not quite as active as Jordan."

But you are still our biggest joy, and our greatest source of amusement and delight. Right up there with Downton Abbey.

Love you love you love you.

Mama