One of LB's new favorite words is "happy." Running through the house, he'll be saying "happy, happy, happy." Looking through his toys, again, you can hear him say, "happy, happy." This is only one of the best effects of his exploding vocabulary. He comprehends most simple questions, such as "want some milk" or "should we put on your coat." And he responds with the most banal yet otherworldly "yea" every time. The "yea" sounds so adult, it's surprising to look down and see an 18" ankle biter at your feet.
BB has been making things. He had a busy, satisfying spring break. There's now a tall tree in his room with a popsicle-stick tree fort built on it, with a stick swinging ladder hanging down. He's also been making paint, as though he were some kind of medieval mosaic painter. He's been using concoctions of liquid soap, glue, water, and food coloring. It satisfies the chemistry set urge (which aren't really sold anymore) and as a result he can also create paintings. The other evening he had us pose for our portraits. He also has a new collection of robot toys. The robots like to do something that can only be called jousting. One stands at the end of the coffee table, while the other is pushed at full speed toward it. The ensuing crash is a joy to both boys. The robots are already starting to fall apart, but they sleep in their own little bed BB has set up by his own. The need their own bed because BB discovered early on that sleeping with hard plastic and metal toys, even if they are anthropomorphic, isn't the same as his soft stuffed animals.
They play a game together called push. BB leans toward LB and says, "push, push." LB obliges with a hand to the face. BB falls over screaming. They do this over and over. It satisfies urges in them both. LB has vanquished BB and BB has gotten LB to do his bidding. Kind of like most relationships.