I'm too old for a toddler

Erin is in the last few weeks of her pregnancy, and is feeling it. She's ready to have this baby and if sheer will could start labor, we'd be rushing towards the hospital. Miko would be ticked off because he would miss it, but I think she just wants to be done.

He's on an extended trip for work, getting some last minute things taken care of so that he can take a couple of weeks off when the baby is born, something Erin is happy about, but she's also annoyed that he's not home to help with Toni and Travis, and she's exhausted. Last week she was sick, this weeks she's just tired.

So yesterday and today, after she took Toni to school, she dropped Travis off here so that she could go home and sleep, then do as much of nothing as she wanted to until Toni got home in the afternoon. To give them a little non-infant-enhanced time together, we're keeping Travis until almost bedtime.

I'm having a blast with him, all day without Alex and Rachel and Kevin helping to watch him, but this is tiring. He's a tiny tornado, into everything and trying to walk as fast as he can, falling over every third step (at which he says quite seriously, Oh no!) If he's not trying to speed walk, he's crawling almost faster than I can catch up to him.

He's beginning to talk more, expanding his vocabulary beyond, Mama, Dada, and Oh no. He can point at Tank and say puppy and chases the cats while meowing at them. If you ask him if he's hungry he says, Yes, yes, yes! and if you ask him what he wants to do he'll tell you, TB (TV, which invariably means Sesame Street.)

What he refuses to say, though, is Grandpa. I've been trying, bribing him with cookies, but all that's doing is making him laugh at me, and he gets the damned cookies anyway.

He gives good kisses, though, so I suppose he's forgiven.