Emily's good for me -- she peer pressures me to get posts up in a timely fashion.
Sasha is 2 today. It was almost exactly two years ago this hour that my doctor told me a c-section was in my future, and as the anesthesiologist said, I "comported myself well." He was born a giant, honkin' baby at 9 lb. 2 oz. and perfect.
Sasha has recently become a good playmate for Sabrina, although he tends to hit more often than anyone would like. He's still struggling a little to deal with a new baby brother, but he adores baby Raiden, and still calls him "Jemonis" at times. He frequently demands "hold him" and squeals with delight when Raiden smiles adoringly at him.
Sasha's talking is very strong, and he has recently began longer sentences, four and more words. He's also working on more complex thoughts than "Daddy's boots," and working on "Be...right back," and "Sabrina bit me." Fortunately, she didn't break the skin.
Sasha has been asking for a lot of snuggling at bed time. He says, "Sleep with me" and wants me to lie down with him in his tiny toddler bed. I usually manage to lie down for a few minutes, balancing myself on the mattress without making it fall between the bars. It's nice, because he is usually so full of energy that he doesn't want to stay still, and I just love to hold his little body!
We had family over for his birthday, and received some recycled toys from cousins (genius! I love all hand-me-downs), a Hot Wheels bath toy, and the piece de resistance, the stick horse and cowboy hat. Zane said "I know what Sasha's going to be for Halloween!" I just need to buy him some jeans. What American kid doesn't have jeans?
Sasha, I love you. You are my sweet boy, and I'm so glad you are my son.