Two

We were in San Antonio this weekend, and spent most of our time in the pool. Roan liked to climb out of the pool and jump back in. (Technically, he stepped back in - he doesn't know how to jump yet, but he is working on it. He bends his knees and squats down low, then straightens up fast and lifts up one leg). Before he "jumped" I would make him count: one, two, three.

When I said one, Roan said two. When I said two, Roan said two. When I said three, Roan said two. He's really good at saying two, and he likes to play to his strengths.

I admit to being proud of this. Roan isn't very verbal. I once watched him spend five minutes climbing up to reach his backpack, then another five minutes unzipping it. He spent another five minutes rummaging through it and only when he didn't find what he wanted did he carry it over to me and say "sna." He wanted a snack. He could have asked for one 15 minutes ago, but he'd rather climb a bench, wrestle with a zipper, and sort through toys and diapers than utter a single syllable. Certainly he will grow up to be one of those guys who never asks for directions.

He says other words, but not so clearly. Buh is bus, bike, or bird, depending on context. Daw is dog. Ta is cat. Hah is hot. These are words that only a parent would understand.

I like to ask him questions where the answer is two, just to hear him say it, over and over. It gives me hope for the future: someday we will count to the very high numbers, leaving the rest of the world behind to wash the dishes and worry if their children are hitting milestones on time.* Someday he will express something that can't be said with pointing, grunting, or super sonic head shaking.

Until then, we will work on making it to ten.

*shout out to David Berman