Thursday, April 2, 2015

"He's a total dude."



Flynn’s now 19 months old.  He’s our little dude.  Am I right or what?  Just look at him.  He’s a total dude.  And, while I don’t want to indulge in or promote gender stereotypes, he is 100% boy.  


"I call this my Abercrombie look."
Flynn has yet to demonstrate any interest in learning or using words.  He’s picked up a few of the most essential hand signals: “milk” (“I want some milk now and why is it taking so long?”), “more” (“More food, please. Preferably carbs.”) and “done” (“I’m done eating and now I want to sit in Daddy’s lap.”).  His preferred method of communicating is shouting.  It’s not a meaningful, creative or even variable shout.  It’s basically “Aahh!”  “Aahh” from his crib when he wakes up in the morning, “Aahh” from his high chair during breakfast, lunch and dinner, and “Aahh” pretty much any time he wants some attention. 



"Hey! Look at me!
I'm a hipster!"
“Aahh” is also Flynn's name for Margot, Coco and Mari.  He likes to shout for Margot, to get her attention or to get her to come to wherever he is.  The other night I was starting bedtime stories and Flynn was in my lap ready to go.  Margot was out in the hall and Flynn started calling her, “Aahh!  Aahh!”  I think the rough translation was “Margot! Get in here! Daddy’s got ‘Pat the Bunny’ open and time’s a-wastin!”

Flynn loves to dance.  He hears music – the radio, a video, a toy that places music of some kind – and he’ll start dancing around, waving his arms above his head, doing jazz hands (okay, not quite jazz hands, but you get the idea).  His dancing is mostly stepping sideways in a circle as fast as he can.  When he is in his high chair he’ll shrug his shoulders up and down and shake his head.



Flynn's also a climber.  He climbs everything.  Beds, couches, chairs, coffee tables, dining room tables . . . ..  And Margot is always right behind him.  Fortunately he understands the tone and gist of an order to get down.  But once he’s down he likes to climb back up again because he likes to hear me tell him to get down.  It goes something like this:  Flynn climbs something.  “Flynn, get down!”  He gets down, pauses, looks at me, climbs up again.  “Flynn, get down!”  He gets down, pauses, looks at me, climbs up again.  “Flynn, get down now!”  He gets down, looks at me and laughs and laughs and laughs like that was just about the funnest game ever.

"Can I keep him?!"

Every diaper change with Flynn includes wrestling, squirming and wiggling away from Daddy which he thinks is ha-larious! 

Flynn greatest talent - above all others - is his ability to sleep.  With all the energy he burns up shouting and dancing and climbing all day long it shouldn’t be a surprise.  He’s always the last to wake up in the morning, his naps are always the longest, and he never wakes up during the night (unless Margot wakes him up).  At bedtime he is like an Olympic gymnast.  From a standing position in his crib, in one fluid motion he arches his back, turns his head, twists his entire body around, puts out his arms and does a face plant right into his pillow.  He sticks the landing every time.