Bringing up baby: I love Tilly.

There are so many things I love about Tilly. Here's some.

• I love it that he communicates new things to me. Like that he prefers to be called Tilly, than how I call him, Atilla.
• I love his soft skin.
• I love his soft hair.
• I love his gentle touch, checking to see if I'm awake.
• I love watching him at play.
• I love his grin, his smile.
• I loved his curls. *sigh*
• I love his book reading. I'm sitting on the ground, he places a book or two in my hands, and turns around and backs up into my lap, trusting my lap will be there for his little butt to sit on.
• I love his book reading. He sits quietly reading a book to himself. "cat" "dog" "bird" "zebra" "大象 [dà xiàng]" "giraffe" "鯊魚 [shā yú]" "horse" "boat"
• I love how he gets so excited by the things I am blase about, like Wii resort, or Wii Fit 2.
• I love how he loves loves loves swinging on the playground swings. He has to use each swing. Even when there are four. Or more.
• I loved how he rode his trike, when his legs weren't long enough to stretch to the ground. I love how he rides his trike, now his legs are long enough to stretch to the ground.
• I love how he tries to include his favourite things on this trike ride, like me.
• I love how he likes his Trunkie rides with Daddee.
• I loved his awkward throws, when his arms and hands and visual acuity didn't balance out sufficiently and he threw close to his feet. I love his practiced throws, now his arms, hands, visual acuity allows him to more accurately judge his target a fair distance away.
• I loved his gummy grin. I love his toothy smile.
• I loved how he combined sign language and single word speech to communicate to me. I love how he uses two word speech to communicate with me.
• I love playing with him.
• I love how he thinks he's hiding things from me, by the expedience of sitting on them. No matter that I can see the red material of his hat spread out under him. Yeah, that only works in Play Mode, not when I'm in Momma Mode.
• I love how he knows how to clean up his own mess. I love that he's learning how to clean up messes. I find great pleasure-peace-humour-satisfaction when I see him using adult-sized cleaning items - a big broom, a dustpan and brush, cleaning cloth - cleaning up real messes. It's the disparity in size of the the item, and the user. And the wonder that he's so wonderful.
• I love his routines. I love how his routines give him pleasure - like having a beloved blanket, or scarf, cover his legs at bedtime story time. Like his holding Giraffe, or Teddy Bear, or Bear, while sitting on my lap watching a dvd.
• I love how he draws.
• I'm loving how he most times nowdays peacably allows me to detain him to 'clean hands' before he wanders away from the dining table.
• I love how he imitates Daddee and me, and any other behaviour he thinks is fun to emulate. Like Brush Hair.
• I love how he gets along with his friends at day care.
• I love how he slurp slurps his soup, or any liquid from a spoon, or from a bowl. The sound is disgustingly bad table manners, but he's not yet two and he's having fun.
• I love his language acquisition. I'm convinced he knows at least 90% more than he's saying. I'm 80% sure spelling out our frequently used words, e.g. b a t h, isn't much of a code for much longer.
• I love his enthusiastic language acquisition. His passion for "fart" is a sign to behold. His headlong embrace of the practice of "falling" would make a good YouTube video, except he stops when the camera is looking. He's still very fond of "fiworks".
• I love how he plays with Daddee. Like the little piggies going wee wee wee.
• I love how he can calm himself down, from a tantrum.
• I love watching him feed himself. It's best when someone else does the cleaning up.
• I love how he likes climbing in the playground. I love he likes the sandpit. I love he likes painting.
• I love his dancing.
• I love how he likes cooking.
• I love how he looks when he's sleeping peacefully.
• I love how he plays with me.