mine.

Mine.
My toddler's new favorite word.
It could be a slobbery dog bone and guess what?  "Mine."

He also loves to say no, but really mean yes.
And he just expects me to know when he's doing that.

Like I should know when it's opposite day or opposite time or something like that.

He thinks the bed in our bedroom is his and mine.  If Justin tries to get in it with us, he slides all the way over to the edge where Daddy should sleep and says, "My bed."

Granola bars are cookies and Greek yogurt is ice cream.  I'm not complaining because he's eating!

And the nights we go out to eat he usually has ice cream for dinner and a hot dog for dessert.
I guess the order doesn't matter as long as he's getting everything in, right?

He loves all things dino, trucks, tractors, and and play-doh.

On the way to school we have conversations about the trees being sad because monsters bit them or the frogs in the stream that are hopping.

He knows where "Baby Sissy" is and lets me know when she's crying - he is apparently very in tune with her already.

It's never a dull moment and I want to chronicle them here so that they are forever MINE.