Elijah continues to amaze us on a daily basis. He is 27 months old, and he is quite a little talent. He jumps like a frog and runs like there's no tomorrow. He can sing "Edelweiss" on his very own, and he hits every single note. While listening to Joshua Bell's "Short Trip Home" album, he pointed to the stereo and said, "Pretty song" I was tickled and asked him if he wanted a violin. He said "yes!" and I told him he can have one when he turns four.
Elijah has yet to bemoan our no-TV policy. With the occasional exception of CNN, the TV is rarely on during his waking hours. I was thrilled to watch the Inauguration with him, but his interest in it was fleeting. He's seen children's programming at friends' houses, but gets bored within few minutes.
The big exception to Elijah's TV indifference is the movie "Horton Hears a Who." In an effort to stave off the winter doldrums, I rented it earlier this month. Elijah was entranced by the tender pachyderm. He snuggled with Amiel on the couch for a good 25 minutes before moving on to his toys. Even then, he clearly continued to pay attention. I didn't know if I should laugh or grumble when he heard the line "Shut up, Horton!!" and then proceded to say just that. He continued to talk about the "elephant movie" for weeks and I finally decided to rent it a second time.
I won't deny the difficulty of adjusting to Elijah's increasing independence. He is no longer afraid to leave my side in public; one of his favorite parts about the Nature Museum playroom is unlatching the gate and bolting out at high speed. While driving Amiel to work yesterday, Elijah announced that there would be "no more talking!" To which I replied "Mommy and Dad can talk whenever they like," while stifling laughter.
He has been known to fling platefuls of food and yank on my hair, but I can't fault him for being two. I love the sound of his laughter. I love his fascination with Bananagram tiles and clocks. I love how he carries around Blue Doggy. I love watching him slurp smoothies through a straw and pick up raisins ("rose-ins) with his fingers. 

























Mrs. Buerschaper's Molasses Crinkles