What I missed writing about 29 months . . . .

My little man,

I forgot to post your "29 month" list of things I want to remember about you.  I forgot, or maybe was occupied as we were at Grandma and Grandpas for the week and there was much excitement. Starting with long awaited airplane ride I told you we could take after Santa came to our house. The second presents were opened you asked, "airport time" "We go see Papa in Seattle now!" Not a question, a statement. I assured you we would get to the airport in 6 days but you have no concept of time so I think I answered that statement about 9.5 million times over again in those LONG 6 days until we boarded the plane. I chose to attempt this trip alone this time, fearing the worst of chaos on the plane ride but gleefully surprised by the pandemonium that didn't occur. We walked up the jet way after our flight and you spotted the familiar face of Papa that you had been waiting and wanting for the 3 weeks prior. A scream of "Papa!" and you were off in lightening speed to jump into his waiting arms, the other passengers laughed at the thrill you had. Then there was more present opening. By this 3rd time, you had it down. Expressing giddiness with every tear of paper.  Loving every toy, especially the Tonka truck from Grammy and Papa. Of course, we can't forget the mound o'snow Papa built in anticipation of your arrival. You are one in the same, you count down days to see him, he builds snow mounds 10 feet tell and 20 feet in diameter for you, both ways to pass the time until you meet again. A quick trip to Dick's (marking your 4th trip to Sammish Island - 4weeks, 13 months, 24 months and 29months) and the obvious need for a tractor ride. You EXPECT this is what we do there, and you love it. You have everyone wrapped around your finger and Dick gets out every tractor to please you. Cathy swings you in the new contraption in the barn and you couldn't be happier. When you laugh or smile or talk with joy to someone else, when I catch you driving the tractor or sliding down a snow mound, when I hear your shriek opening a Tonka truck, I feel shivers of pure glee radiate through me. As I type, you are supposed to be napping, Daddy has just gone up to you room to see what all the ruckus is about. You have apparently wiggled both of you arms out of your shirt through the neck hole and are demanding he put your arms back in.  The shirt looked like a skirt pulled around your armpits and this makes you frustrated. Daddy returns to the room to fill me in on your latest and greatest hilarium and we both laugh. You do this to us alot.