Noah came up to me earlier and started saying what sounded like the word "towel," over and over again. But he was looking at the box of tissues. So I asked him, "Do you need a tissue?" and then he repeated "tissue." So I gave him one, very proud of him for taking the initiative to wipe his nose. He grabbed the tissue and walked over to the living room, where he had accidentally knocked over his cup of milk, spilling some. He then wiped up the milk with the tissue! Wow.
Just this morning, when he was whining at 6 a.m., I was reminding myself that he is only two years old and I must be patient. And now I find myself thinking, he's already two, and close to three! My baby has become a little boy. I am so proud of him! And, yes, a little sad for me.