Anselm Ioan is twenty-three months old today.
Typing his middle name this morning made me smile. People frequently read that “I” as an “L”, and wondering why we would name a child Loan.
His whole name is difficult, I guess, judging by the number of people that still call him “ans-lum” instead of “ans-elm”. In a way, I guess it’s appropriate for him. Not that he’s difficult, himself, but he is a little unexpected and incredibly unique in our little family. What I mean is that Ephraim takes very much after me, and Clive is his father made over, but Anselm still puzzles us. Who does he look like? Where did that personality come from?
Anselm turned twenty-two months yesterday, the seventh.
Twenty-two months, and two months away from two years old! What a bunch of twos yesterday brought us.
It means he has two more monthly updates after this one, and then he and I are off the hook. I post updates on the boys monthly until their second birthdays. It also occurred to me this morning that, once Miss Elvie is born, it will be the first time I’ve had a new baby and won’t be posted monthly updates for two children simultaneously. I’m still not sure how I’m feeling about the wider age gap this time around!
Anselm Ioan turned twenty-one months yesterday.
I missed his last monthly update (mea culpa!) and a lot has happened since October. For one thing, he walks!
Nineteen months for Mr. Anselm!
Guess who’s walking? Not Anselm! He is close, though, getting braver (because that seems to be the major obstacle.) He spends a lot of time on our bed, standing and holding his balance for as long as he can. On solid floor, he tests himself by letting go of whatever he’s holding onto, then quickly checks to see if I’ve noticed.
Clive was 19, nearly 20 months before he walked, so Mr. Mo is right on target with his brother. But unlike Clive, Anselm seems to really, really want to walk. Here’s hoping that he’ll be a walker by his next monthly update.
He suddenly became enamored with saying “bye-bye” this month and, when before he had to be cajoled a bit, he will now say it to anyone and everyone, whether the situation calls for a farewell or not. He tells his reflection “bye-bye” when we leave the bathroom after washing his hands; he waves and murmurs it to the cars leaving the cul-de-sac. Every morning, when I go to get him up, he drops his blanket and bear out of the crib, wishing them a fond farewell as they hit the floor.
He is also fond of car trips (“Go go, go go?”) and punctuates his request for his “my” with a sweet little lilting hum. (“Ma-ma? Hmmm. Ma-ma? Hmmm.) That one’s hard to describe; I need to get a video of it before he stops doing it.
And yes, he still calls the blanket “mama”, and no, he doesn’t call me that (he doesn’t call me anything.) He DID give me a kiss today, so I’ll call that progress. Of course, everyone else continues to have names.
He is preoccupied with imitating his brothers. Whatever they are doing, Anselm must be involved as well. If they are playing cars, he must play cars. If they are finished eating, he is finished eating (whether he’s actually finished or not.) If they are reading, he must also sit and read. If they go outside, he must go outside, or else a full-on hissy fit is bound to ensue. He does fairly well on keeping up with them, and I’m sure that, once he’s walking, they’ll find it excessively difficult to keep him out of their games and activities. They are good with him, but he of course has a knack for disrupting their intentions without knowing it. It’s the privilege of being The Baby.
He has a serious love of the washer and dryer. The laundry closet is just outside his room and across the hall, so that when his door is open he can see the machines from his crib. He likes to tell you that they go “round and round” (he has a sign for this) and loves to help me put clothes in and push the buttons to make it go. It’s his special little chore, and he’s not too bad at it.
He finally had his haircut this month, but folks still ask if he’s a girl. I noticed while taking these pictures that he’s already due for another (crazy bangs!) This child and his hair. He seems to have grown a year in the last month.
Slow down, Mr. Mo, while I still have the right to call you “The Baby”.