Beans

I have not blogged very frequently this year, and it seems that many posts revolve around Lily. Perhaps someday Corin will see these posts and think, “Gosh, Mom. Lily was your favorite!” (That is not true, son. I don’t have a favorite. It’s just that a child with proficient language skills makes for more narratable stories.)

To give you an idea of Corin, I will start with a little story. We were going through the grocery store on Friday, which is an accomplishment in itself since Corin loathes shopping carts and normally screams if you put him in one, and I was going over our list out loud to keep Lily engaged in the task at hand. Corin became totally amused with the word “beans,” and started shouting “BEEEEEEEEEANS!” repeatedly and laughing at himself. So I started prompting him, saying “Corin is full of...” and letting him reply: “BEEEEEEANS!” That about sums him up.

To be “full of beans” means, according to The Free Dictionary’s idiom section, “to have a lot of energy and enthusiasm” (1). That is Corin. Energy and Enthusiasm.
Energy: The boy seems to be at maximum energy as soon as he wakes up. His volume is usually loud, and his speed is usually fast. If you asked me, “Does your son walk?” I would probably say, “Yes, but not as much as he runs.” He runs everywhere: across the room, down the sidewalk, away from you up a store aisle, and in big circles from the dining room to the living room to the kitchen and back.
Enthusiasm: Corin does things with gusto--things like saying his favorite words, reading his favorite books, giving kisses... and throwing anything he gets his hands on. A frequent projectile is his water bottle, which apparently needs shock absorption testing after every use. He also eats enthusiastically. He has been experimenting lately with a technique of putting a large piece of food in his mouth (a whole cupcake, for example) and then pushing on the outer end of it slowly until he has consumed it all.

Exhibit A: pretzel

Exhibit B: cookie cake

Exhibit C: cupcake

Exhibit D: lake sand

Here are some more fun features of Corin’s personality right now:

He loves cars.
I did not have many boy-specific toys when Corin was a baby, but one day, we visited some of Lily’s best preschool friends who are twin boys and who had an ample collection of cars and trucks. Corin gravitated to them right away, and that inclination has only increased as he has gotten older. He calls cars “vroom vrooms,” which comes, I think, from a book of sound words and which is something of a signature word with him the way “puckies” (pizza) was for Lily. It would surely be easier to just say “cars,” but he always says “vroom vroom” for car and “shruck” for truck. His vehicles, including some old Chevron cars from my grandparents’ house, are indisputably his favorite toys.

I really should get more pictures of him with his cars. This one is old.

He loves books.
Just like Lily, he loves to empty his book shelf several times a day. Sometimes, he sits by himself and flips through the picture books. Other times, he wants to be read to, and he has an endearing way of asking. He’ll find me (or Matt), pull on my arms, my shirt, or my pants until I sit down on the floor, and then climb into my lap with the book in his. I think that I am his favorite chair. His favorite book is “Goodnight, Gorilla,” but he is a board-book omnivore, and he’ll come listen to us read to Lily too.

He babbles.
I have no idea how many words Corin can say, but there are plenty of them. Still, however many dozen he has mastered, they are not sufficient for full expression of his feelings, and he will babble animatedly with recognizable words sprinkled here and there. A happy, conversational sample might be “wanubablynuhabaWAWAmamanabuSIDE.” (suggesting, perhaps, that he stuffed his water bottle  outside via the dog door.) A complaining sample would be: “mawanunbaboobaDOGGIES!” or “humanumbabbablebaSISSY!” Both are self-explanatory.

He destroys things.
We recently saw, and thoroughly enjoyed, Wreck-It Ralph. “I’m gonna wreck it!” is a good Corin slogan. I already mentioned that he likes to throw. Often, he throws something when he is done inspecting it. Some objects, however, have been marked for their fun throwing effects. We have to keep our remote controls on the mantle now, because if Corin reaches them, he will invariably throw them--presumably because he likes the noise, and he likes to see the battery door and AA batteries fly out and roll all over the living room. We also have to watch him with Lily’s books. He is safe with his board books, but when he gets a picture book with thin pages, he will often cause a tear by turning too vigorously and then make the tear worse because he likes the sound or the feel. Worse still, when I was unpacking from our Boise trip, he found both of our iPods on the bed and proceeded to toss them both into the toilet. You can't fix that with scotch tape. If you come visit us, mind your electronics, friends.

Look at this face.

Or this one.

He is not very cautious.
I sometimes think that I should have a sign on the wall: “Corin. Accident free for _ _ days.” Corin likes to run, climb, and explore; he is not fearful, and he does not dramatize pain. This is a recipe for scrapes, bruises, and nasty surprises. Most memorably, he slammed his fingers in the bottom drawer of Lily’s dresser one morning in March, and one finger was so stuck that I had to push down hard on the drawer to slide it open. He probably cried for less than a minute, and I nursed him briefly after palpating the finger and finding no broken skin and no evidence of broken bones. When he was calm, he went straight back to playing with the drawer and its contents. The next day, on our flight to DC for my comprehensive exams, we found that the finger had become infected. There was an abscess the size of a lentil which had to be drained, without anesthetic, at a minor emergency clinic. We had to bandage his hand like a little lobster claw for several days to keep him from getting at the wound, which had to be left open to drain. We thought that he would treat his hand gingerly. Instead, he was delighted to have a boxing glove.

Would you let this slow you down?

Of course not! Why not crawl through some mulch in your bandage?

And maybe climb some steps...

He is very affectionate.
He still smiles easily, laughs often, and gives kisses and hugs almost every time you ask. Whenever he wants some mom or dad time, he comes over and says “Hoshyu” (hold you), peering interestedly at what we’re doing or laying his head down to show that he’s tired. He is particularly cuddly whenever he is tired, but when he is alert, his affection is mixed with his general bravado. He likes to give hugs after running full speed and throwing himself into my arms, laughing a belly laugh if I let him knock me over. Like I said: full of beans.

Why, no. I'm not full of beans at the moment. It's nutella.

 (1) http://idioms.thefreedictionary.com/be+full+of+beans