Henry and Eleanor at Two

I haven’t done one of those “here are Henry and Eleanor at so-and-so age” posts in a while, and since the kids had their two-year check-up on Thursday, no time like the present.

Let’s get the boring stats out of the way first: Henry is 35 7/8 inches tall and weighs 25.2 lbs; Eleanor is 36 inches tall and weighs 27 1/4 lbs. Henry is 75% percentile for height and 25% for weight; Eleanor is 95% for height and 50% for weight. They are normal, healthy, thriving kids, which after all we went through to get them here, continues to be a source of amazement.

We’re only two months into it, but two seems to be a wonderful age. Oh sure, it has its challenges. We have the random meltdowns, the “I want to do it MYSELF” attitudes, and the constant testing of boundaries. But more often we have two inquisitive little people who bring an incredible amount of happiness to our family.

Eleanor still has a bright smile that outshines her halo of curls. And my goodness, that girl can talk. The minute she wakes up in the morning, she calls out to me, “Mommy coming!” and she doesn’t stop chatting until she falls asleep after countless rounds of “Goodnight Mommy! Goodnight Daddy!” drifting from her crib at bedtime. She is so earnest when she tells you things, and if it’s really important she’ll get right in your face to make sure you hear her. Eleanor at heart is a kind person. She is very into helping lately, whether it’s carrying a glass of milk to her brother or picking up her toys. “Eleanor helping” is a current favorite phrase of hers. She’s still shy in new situations or around large groups of people. Eleanor refers to herself in the third person, but if I were as big of a force of nature as she is, I would, too.

Henry is a ham and we love him for it. I didn’t realize two-year-olds could have such a developed sense of humor. He seems to know what to do to make us laugh—a silly voice, a funny face, a “hey, look at me!” glance around the table to make sure we see him putting his sandwich on his head. He has this cute way of sitting with his leg crossed over the other, and it’s especially endearing to peek at him in his crib, laying with his left foot resting atop his right knee, binky in mouth, reading a book to himself. He is, to perpetuate the stereotype, “all boy.” There is not a ball he won't throw or kick, he picks matchbox cars over stuffed animals to snuggle with in bed, and he is fond of tackling his mom, dad, and sister.

They both still have that mysterious twin bond. Lately, if they’re doing something together, they’ll look up and say, “friends,” which instantly melts your heart. Eleanor gets especially antsy if she wakes up from naps before her brother. This week she spent a good fifteen minutes crying to me over Henry and begging me, “Henry wake up soon!” before she finally woke her poor brother up. And Henry still patiently accepts Eleanor taking his toys, something he’s lived with since he was born one minute behind her.

Henry and Eleanor still love sign language, but their speaking has really exploded since turning two. They imitate Andy and I a lot more (gotta start watching the potty mouth), seem to pick up a new word or two every day, and speak in 3-5 word sentences. Favorites of mine include the way they say “Bless You” after you sneeze (or sometimes cough) and how they say thank you for everything, most of the time without prodding. Andy and I have had a bit of fun teaching them words that sound silly coming from a toddler. Instead of “hamburger” we like to have them yell “beef!” Henry has a French-sounding accent when he says the word “blue,” so we taught him the French phrase “sacre bleu,” which Henry and Eleanor will now randomly say.

They love their books, Sesame Street, their bear backpacks, milk (Eleanor), juice (Henry), their dog and cat, waffles, coloring with crayons or sidewalk chalk, swings, bubbles, watching the world from the big living room window, Goldfish, cooking in their play kitchen, the ducks that visit our neighborhood, bubbles, music, and wagon rides. And Andy and I love them and can’t imagine life without them.