I have told many people that Eli is the easiest two-year-old ever. That's because he is happy all day, he practically puts himself to bed for naps and bedtime, he says, "Okay, mom!" every time I ask him to do something, he never teases or hits his siblings, he's a great (not picky) eater, and he says the cutest things ever. No, really. I'm telling the truth. Easiest two-year-old EVER.
Except, as of 2 1/2 months ago, ALL THAT CHANGED. Apparently, he had to become a two-and-a-half-year-old before he could turn on the real charm. I won't go into the nitty gritty about how terrible his two's are, because, well, you probably already know. He still has his moments though, when I just have to scoop him up and hug him because I love him so much and because he makes me smile. And laugh. (And groan. And pull my hair. . . )
So the other day, in all his grown-upness (what? that's a word!), he helped himself to a snack. I often hear the phrase, "I do it, mom!" He's getting to be very independent. He didn't make much of a mess in the kitchen either, surprisingly.