We've seen so many changes in him the past few months. He's talking nonstop, mostly about rockets, Paw Patrol and action-sequences he's seen on TV. For some reason he's got it in his head that a squirrel is in his bedroom, so we have to reassure him every night that the bedroom is indeed squirrel-free. He says, SCAWED MOMMY, EKORN! (Norwegian for squirrel).
He's continually needing to be re-trained in sleep; we have to restart the routine regularly and remind him of each step. He always gets right back on track when we do this, but it's a mystery to us how every night it's a surprise that he has to go to bed.
He's CLOSE to riding his balance bike; I saw him get on it this weekend and try it out. It's a smidge too tall for him. I think he's slightly less klutzy than Lucia, so I'm hoping he'll wait until he's really ready to test it.
The faces he makes; I wish I could capture them. I once told my mom he looked like one of those calico cat clocks:
This morning he was thinking about something, and his eyes shift all the way to the left, then all the way to the right, while he processes it. He is HILARIOUS.
He's learning more and more to torture his sister, with toys and what not. He's SO Lynchy, in that he loves pasta pasta pasta, and refuses most meat, although we watched him totally house some chicken sausages last week, and he can put away two hotdogs no probs.
It's so hard and bittersweet with him growing up. I tried to cradle him the other day and realized how big he was getting. But then he says the funniest things, or asks for clemtimes or runs as fast as he can to get a glimpse of the garbage truck, and I'm so excited with how he's growing up.
He's in remission, btw, from his autoimmune disease. We test his urine a few times a week to ensure it hasn't spiked up. So far, so good. Crossing our fingers.
Happy Birthday Espen. We love you so much.
