I’m not sure when it happened, but it did.  Momma and Daddy try to confuse me with their smiles and big language like, “We are so proud of you!”.   Proud?  If ‘proud’ is something that makes me feel like running away from embarrassment, then okay.  That is what this is.  Somehow I doubt it. 

Somewhere along the way…I became one of them.  They tricked me!  They tricked me with their cameras and flash.  Wait, they don’t use flash.  Well, there are shiny buttons and fun numbers on the cameras.  Yea, that is what it is.  They tricked me!  They tricked me by giving me my own camera and letting me take my own pictures. 

It happened slowly but all at once.  I don’t even know when.  I have to sit.  I have to calm down.  Just. Relax.  Breathe.  Breathe.  I can’t!!!  What am I going to do????!!!!   Overreacting?   You think I’m overreacting?   How do I KNOW I am one of them?  Well I didn’t realize it until the other day, in the store. 

It was a day like any other.  I was loudly minding my own business, sitting in the cart, checking out the book and Lego selections, yelling “Hi” to anyone who would listen.  Momma and Daddy had already dazzled me by telling me I could get some Nemos to take home and feed for my very own.  My very own Nemos!!!   That must have been why my guard was down.   We were in the row with dog and cat toys.  Okay. Sure.  Momma picked out some small dog toys.  That was strange because we don’t have small dogs.  Okay. Sure. Whatever.  I get my own Nemos!!!!   I will feed them and love them and they shall be mine!!!  Wait…what was this?  We were buying cat toys?  Why??  We don’t need cat toys.  Strange.  But Momma is strange.  Nemos!!!    

“Excuse me.  Do you have suggestions of any of these toys for cats?” A short woman asked Momma.  “Oh no.  I’m not buying these for a cat.”  Blink.  Blink.  Blink.  Silence.  More blinking.  “You…aren’t buying cat toys for a cat?”  The short woman seemed confused.  “No,” Momma answered.      The short, confused woman repeated what Momma had JUST said.  Were her ears broken?  I took over.  “Yea..Why?!”  She looked at me, ignored me… then went back to Momma and asked, “So… you aren’t buying them for a cat, just to take pictures?  Pictures WITH a cat? Or just pictures??”  Clearly she couldn’t hear. So I repeated louder, “Yea…Why?!”

Momma stopped me from continuing and settled it by just grabbing a few, kind of explaining what the pictures were for, and moving on.  The woman wasn’t going to get it…she was too confused to listen. And thankfully Momma stopped me, because I was going over a cliff.   

Clearly you can see that I’ve become one of them.  I normally would side with the short, confused lady, and begin distracting her from Momma’s embarrassing behavior with my charm. But INSTEAD…I sided with Momma!   I can’t believe this.  That just happened.  My life is over.  All this fun picture stuff is ruining me!!!  

It’s no secret we end up going many places for Momma, and sometimes Daddy too, to take pictures.  I even take a few to show them how it’s done.   They simply don’t appreciate my angle, my lighting choices and the perfect amount of blur.  Whether or not I take better pictures really isn’t the point.  I do.  But that’s not the point.  But I do.  My point today is that we end up in many strange places and doing many strange things.

I never thought I’d be telling my friends at the diaper changing station about wearing Daddy or Momma and walking over burned wood and broken glass in abandoned buildings.  I bet THEIR Momma’s faces were priceless when they took those stories home!!  Also, I’ve been in a ditch, on the side of a tunnel, straddling a fence and wandering through an old concrete plant, walking on all the machines still there.

I’ve been parked on the side of an old railroad track so Momma could run across the road and take girly pictures of poppies growing on the tracks.  I’ve jumped through mud and puddles for “work”. I’ve chased chickens, smeared paint, and shared my toys with Momma…all for pictures.  I’ve been to more cemeteries than probably any other 2 year old I know.  That’s just odd, and actually quite concerning.  Just ask Daddy.  I’ve been to the market, but not to buy food for eating.  Nope, just to bring the food home and take pictures of it.  I’ve walked across big bridges, under bridges, climbed huge hills and even some trees, just to take pictures of grass or peeling paint!  I’ve sat in corn fields and grape fields.

I’ve accompanied Momma on strange neighborhood walks that are slightly crazy as she takes pictures of every chimney or mailbox.  The looks we get there???!!!  Oh man. There are just some things I can’t use my powers on to fix.  I’ve been on my back in the park to help Momma take a picture of a tree from below.  I’ve been on my back in sand to help Momma take a picture of a slide.  These ARE public places people.  I’ll be shamed at school even before I start!!!   

Are you starting to get the picture??? 

I’m 2 and ½ years.  That’s a pretty big deal. That’s two years of lots of watching, lots of brain development, lots of learning.   I have my own ideas about how the days should go.  I spend a lot of time planning my day and what I think Momma and Lyla, even Daddy, should do.  Most of the time I’m pretty good at making sure things go according to plan.   I can do a lot myself, even if people think I can’t.  I can sweep, and then put the dirt back where it came from.  I can use the spray cleaner and a rag to wipe things…and also to clean Lyla.  I can kind of vacuum; we just need a smaller vacuum, that’s all.  I can put clothes away…where I think they should go.  I can pour my drinks, which also gives the thirsty counter a drink.   I have my own camera and can take my own pictures, artistic pictures.  I can do puzzles, build towers, and draw.  I can sing, play the piano perfectly, and steer the cars. You name it, I’m pretty sure I can do it myself.    

The big people in my life look at me like I’m a child, incapable of such strategic planning, incapable of doing things on my own. That’s why one phrase is so important:  “I can do it myself!”.  I have to use this phrase about 31 times each day.  At least I think that is the number…I can’t really count past 19.  It isn’t just about the words.  You have to look them in the eye, use hand gestures and a loud voice.  They still don’t get it.

 Some big people really don’t get it at all.  One day on a field adventure, a woman came up to us with this strange, high pitched voice, squishy lips, a wiggling finger, and what she thought were words.  She looked and sounded like an idiot.  I stared at her…then looked at Momma…then looked behind me at Lyla, who actually had a goofy, toothy, grin on her face.  Ah ha…the woman was talking like we were babies.  Leave it to Lyla to encourage her.  She messes up everything!! Momma was too awkward to fix it, too busy looking for pictures to take.   I had to take control.   I would do it myself.

The woman asked Momma how old we were.  I can answer myself!!  Momma told her.  The woman looked at me and squished up her nose and lips, saying, “Wow…a biggy wiggy two year old!  What a big boy!  Yes you are!!”  She grabbed my fingers (really, I didn’t know this woman at all, and she had the nerve to touch me!).  I looked at her, done with the shenanigans, and said, “It’s time to let go!  Momma, it’s time to say goodbye.  I’m a big boy, I can do it myself!  Lyla no talking!!”  Momma’s mouth opened, then shut.  By looking at her eyes, I could tell she was trying not to laugh.  The woman gasped and then started to talk again, but just sounds came out.   So I looked her in the eyes, talked slowly and loudly, and said, “Use your words.”  

Momma mumbled something and whisked us away so fast I could barely hear the woman call after us, “Well, he certainly is a spirited boy.”  And then Momma mumbled loud enough I could hear her, “And you my friend, certainly are an annoying woman.”   Since I really needed Momma to push us away, and couldn’t stomp off myself, I was so glad when she did!   Sometimes, I still need help.  Some days, Momma is my superhero.  

I love books.  I love cars and trains too.  But books are the best.  Books are amazing.  Maybe even more than … well, than most things. ALMOST as good as a Momma or Daddy hug.  Books teach you things.  Books have great pictures.  Books tell you stories.   And who doesn’t like a good story??!!  A good story takes you to other places and people. 

By the time I was two years old, I ran with giraffes and bears, went swimming with dolphins, got stuck in a whale’s belly, drove a train, climbed a tall tall tree, found a wocket in my pocket, danced with wolves, built an igloo, flew on a train to Africa, played peek-a-boo with a strange robot, got stuck in a mud puddle with a blue truck, said good night to the moon, put pajamas on with elephants, rode a submarine, and…and…and.  Well, I could go on and on. 

Read a book. It’s good for you!

All that I did because of books.  Each book is an adventure. 

I have so many shelves of books that Momma has to move them around to remind me what books I have!   Some of my books are short, some are long.  Some make me happy, some make me sleepy.  Not only do I get an adventure with each book, but I get to spend time with the big people that I love each time we read them.  Sometimes I read the books by myself.  Sometimes I have Momma or Daddy read the same book over and over and over and over…mostly because I like being with them. 

Books aren’t for everyone…I guess.  Apparently Lyla feels they are better as food or to throw.  She rips books out of my hand and hits me with them.  What?  She doesn’t like stories?  I guess we can’t all be readers.  Someone should really talk to that baby girl about books.  I guess I could show her how cool books are. 

I have a few books that have really pretty pictures.  I wonder if someday I can use my camera to take pictures for books?  I HAVE been practicing my picture taking!  Hmmm… For now, I’ll just go read another book.