Hooray, it's the post of the cute Noah stories! Because it's 4:30 in the morning, I am awake, and of course if I can't sleep I SHOULD be working on papers, but I would much rather tell you about my adorable kid.

Story #1:
Kyle is in the living room, Noah is playing in his room. We've actually reached the point where Noah will play by himself sometimes, and it is marvelous. Of course, he's just as likely to walk up to you and say, "C'mere! Play!" and who could turn THAT down, but I digress. Noah in his room, Kyle in the living room. The next thing Kyle hears is Noah asking, "I get in water?"

"No, son, you don't need in the water right now." Still from the living room.

"I not in trouble." Which is pretty much a guarantee that he IS, so off Kyle goes to Noah's room. He took the top off of his humidifier and dropped part of the filter into the reservoir. Hence the "I get in water?" I'm a little concerned that we're already getting the "I'm innocent!!!" speech and we're still three weeks shy of two years old.

Holy crow. He's going to be two years old in three weeks. Ack. Well, on to story number two.

Story #2:

We put up the Christmas tree. This process took several days, because every time we added something new to the tree, it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. First there was just the tree. We didn't turn the lights on, even though it was prelit. Noah tried to throw himself under the tree. In his defense, if I was two years old, I would think it was a great hidey-hole. Then came the lights and the tree skirt. That's when we got this conversation, with Kyle holding on to Noah's legs so that he couldn't make good on his request: "Mama, I go under? I go under?"

"Nope, the tree is just to look at. Isn't it pretty? Look, you can touch if you just use one finger." (I thought I was sooooooo smart. Unbreakables only on everything he could reach. I didn't know he'd poke every single one. Over and over.)

"Mama, I go under? Tree share blankeck (blanket, for those of you who don't speak Noah.). Tree SHARE BLANKECK!"

He has yet to make it under the tree but has started unwrapping presents. None of them have been his yet, and apparently I was way worse at his age, so I am grateful for his restraint.

On to story number three.

Story #3:

Kyle is in the living room, Noah is in the kitchen. Pretty much our whole house is kidproof, so no biggie. Kyle hears Noah saying, "Apples? Apples?" Noah LOVES fruit. Loves it. Will eat it when he will not even eat chicken and fries, which are one of his favorite things since I went through a McDonalds drive through in a moment of parental weakness a few months ago. So to hear him talking about apples is nothing new. Kyle thinks to himself, "Well, we do have apples, but they're in that bowl way up on the counter, so he's probably pointing to the apples."

Silence ensues. Kyle goes to investigate.

Noah has moved his highchair over to the counter, climbed INTO the chair, grabbed the bowl of apples, and proceeded to help himself to ONE BITE out of every apple in the bowl. All 11 of them. He was quite pleased with himself, and probably would have been in a bit of trouble if Kyle could have stopped giggling long enough to get on to him.

So, there you have it. Three super-cute Noah stories on the almost eve of his second birthday. I was looking at some pictures of him when he was tiny, and it really makes my uterus argue with me. "You grow such pretty babies! Look at that!" while my brain goes "P.h.D. P.h.D. At least have the common sense to shoot for the summer, which means you are out for this go round, chick. Oh, and should probably consider getting your head on straight before getting preggers again, and if you wanted to clean your house out to the point where you would have a PLACE for a baby besides a dresser drawer someplace that would be good too." Sigh. The debates between heart (or uterus, as the case may be), and head.