"Two" know, know, know him . . .

Little Bit turned two back in June, and I've been saving up little tidbits for a Little Bit post ever since. If you would have asked me about my Little Bit back in June, I would have said that he was "really good at being two." NTB. He's good at whining. Good at crying and screaming when he does not get his way. Good at stealing toys from his big brother and instigating battles. Good at saying (perhaps even screeching) "I do" or "No, Mommy, no" or "Mine!" Even good, I hesitate to admit, at biting every now and again.

Sometimes it's challenging to live with someone who is so good at being two, but we are trying to cut him some slack because he's two and has a new baby sister who needs to be fed and cooed over regularly. Little Bit also has a big brother who can articulate every single thing that he wants and needs to do. It's tough to be the little, middle guy who, though making great strides in speech and language, is often reduced to pointing, grunting, and repeating semi-comprehensible phrases.

Here are some of the little things I want Little Bit to know about who and how he was the summer he turned two.

I want him to know how he obsessively requested to have his hands washed and then demanded that any attending adult "mell mell" their fresh, clean scent.

I want him to know that he really started to love being read to, especially the David books by David Shannon, the How Do Dinosaurs . . . books, his old favorite Where's Elmo's Blanket (Elmo pronounced "Melmo"), Peek-a-Who, and Who Stole the Cookie from the Cookie Jar. In the latter, he likes to feed mommy the cookies before we close the book.

I want him to know that he still liked to be rocked to sleep.

I want him to know that he had lots of fun playing soccer, especially kicking the "squishy" balls at his Coach, playing red light/green light, and getting both hands and his belly stamped at the end of class.

I want him to know that he inherited Bub's trike and helmet and was pretty darn proud of himself.

I want him to know that he loved to talk on the phone, sometimes pressing speaker phone during mommy and daddy's conversations to bust in with a "hi" or "love you" (sounds more like "la you").

I want him to know that when we stayed in a motel one night, he took a styrofoam cup, filled it with toilet water, and poured it into the room's air conditioning unit. I actually think the humidifying effect helped clear up Sweet P's congestion that night. We've got an HVAC genius on our hands, NTB!

I want him to know that he was a dancing fool for two hours straight at his Aunt Shell's wedding and anytime he heard music at home.

I want him to know that he took his pajama bottoms off almost every night, but then refused to go downstairs in the morning without his "pants, pants."

I want him to know that he began performing awesome feats like jumping a few inches off the ground or from the ottoman to the couch. "Watch, Mommy, watch!" "Watch, Daddy, watch!" Best of all is, "Watch, Baby, watch!"

I want him to know that he loved, loved, loved him some "kiki" (candy) and that he once called for "kiki, kiki" for fifty minutes straight during a car ride.

I want him to know that his favorite activity at the park was swinging. Second favorite was climbing up the slide.

I want him to know that he did not consider his bath complete until he was wrapped up in a towel and positioned in front of a mirror with mommy or daddy chanting "Cutest Toddler Ever. Cutest Toddler Ever" (not to be confused with the "Cutest Baby Ever" or the "Cutest Big Boy Ever").

I want him to know that he had a double-dimpled, completely adorable, slightly mischievous grin.

I want him to know that we loved him so, so, so, so much because "two" know, know, know this two year-old is "two" love, love, love him.