A Talker

Ryker is a talker, just like me. He's saying more and more things and we're understanding him better.

Last week he said his name for the first time, correctly. Ryker is not the easiest name for a kid. He has previously referred to himself as "why why" or "bebe." But the other morning I asked him what his name was and he said "Why-kur." Now he repeats it over and over because he knows I like it. "My Why-Kur, myyyy Why-Kur." (He uses "my" for "I.")

Last night I said "Ryker, what do you like to do?" not really expecting a response, and he said "baseball."

Today I told him I was going to give him a haircut and he said "Nicki not here." Nicki, if you haven't been reading this blog for very long, is our magical neighbor. Among other talents, she cuts hair, and apparently she's made quite the impression on him.

After his haircut he had a bath, and after that I put him in a froggy towel. He was hopping around saying "wibbit" and I got him on the changing table and asked what he was and he said "My wibbit."

He's also extremely fluent in the art of telling me what he does NOT want. Why do kids pick that up first? His love for saying no sometimes gets in the way of what he really does want, but I've learned to adjust. This morning he told me he wanted eggs and then proceeded to yell "no Mommy! No Mommy!!!!" until I brought them over to him, at which point he smiled and said "tank too" by way of appreciation.

I LOVE this age!