According to the World English Dictionary, a toddler is defined as such:
toddler (n): a young child, usually between the ages of one and two and a half
This definition is rather vague and nondescript. And wildly inaccurate.
That face can often be misleading. Nolan, who I guess is technically no longer a toddler by about two weeks, is much more than a young child, in fact, he’s more like a humanized Hurricane.
His head is like a bowling ball and to be honest, if he was in the NFL, he’d have already been kicked out of the league for leading with his head way too many times!
His elbows are pointy and always find their way into my ribs or back, so he’s really more like an Muay Thai-trained MMA fighter.
His propensity to leap also poses quite a threat. He routinely jumps off the ottoman onto my back or into my arms but occasionally he misfires, landing squarely on my nads.
One thing for sure he isn’t lacking is energy. The kid eats like a beast and doesn’t gain much weight, probably because he is non-stop moving from the minute he wakes up until the minute he goes to sleep (and most times, several minutes after we place him in his crib).
So, while he’s steadily inflicting pain upon Lindsay and/or me, we laugh with him on the outside while crying and living in fear on the inside. I think it’s hugely important to make sure that he’s happy, smiling and laughing — he doesn’t have to know we’re also partially afraid of him and what he might do next.
On a lighter note, he loves reading and urges me to read to him or take him near street signs or anything else that contains letters and numbers. That seems to be one of the few times he “relaxes,” but at least he’s productively learning.
Off to ice my groin.