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Small triumphs

Here's to rescuing your kid for bedtime when he's stuck between the end table and the couch in a very uncomfortable butt-down, feet-up position.

Here's to being 75 people away from 9,000 readers.

Here's to trying to type a blog post while the other one is asleep on your left arm preventing use of letters on that half of the keyboard...the W is sooo far away!

Here's to somehow a little boy getting dropped off at our house recently. Where our baby went, we have no clue. This one is smart, opinionated, does what he can by himself, and likes to kick adults out of "his" chair.

Kelly brought him to the museum on Sunday and it was a non-stop run from exhibit to exhibit. Pressing buttons. Demanding that we follow, keep up, and enjoy what he was enjoying. The trains, the baby chicks, the tractors...I remember when he was too little to do much. He couldn't climb the stairs to get in the vehicles or see over railings. Now, his eyes just peak over when he uses the kid-size viewing platforms. He wants to press all the elevator buttons.

The other day, he randomly decided to sit down on his potty. Clothed, mind you. But a small victory. We asked if he'd like to take it into the bathroom to sit on it and he dragged it into the living room to watch tv on his throne instead. Win some, lose some.

We offered him chocolate, he asked for raisins. We offered him pizza, he asked for more oranges. (Cuties really are made for kids.)

He asks to brush his teeth several times a day. He asks to take a bath several times a day.

I thought two year olds were supposed to be hard? This one is a pleasure other than the incessant love for Thomas the Tank Engine. And crushing crackers into the carpet. Ok, maybe we're not ready for independent life quite yet.

The makings of a pretty decent little boy seems to be there though.