Logan has had a big personality since the moment he was born - literally. I was in the delivery room with my brother and sister-in-law, and when he came out, the three of us let out a cry and he looked around. He was so busy trying to figure out what was going on that he forgot to cry himself. It’s been like that since day one - always busy, always afraid he’s going to miss something, always laughing and chattering and doing hilarious things.
It took him awhile to talk. I had this theory: because he was so watchful and observant, he was taking everything in and when he finally started talking, it would be in sentences. Well, I was right. We’d try to get him to talk and he’d just give us this little indulgent smile, but keep his mouth shut. It had to be on his terms, and once he started talking, it was non-stop. At two years and three months, he has the best vocabulary of any two-year-old I've ever known (and I’m not just biased - I’ve worked with kids that age in daycares).
One thing I discovered a few weeks ago is that he seems to think his name is You. Sometimes we’ll scroll through pictures on the computer, or he’ll pick up a framed picture or an album and start identifying people, and at first, he didn’t say anything when he came to pictures of himself. Then he started pointing and saying, ‘That’s You.” It didn’t take me long to realize he meant himself, and really it makes sense - you point to a picture and say “that’s you,” so he thinks he’s You.
Week before last, we were out on the balcony and I was taking pictures of him, and he wanted to see them as I took them. He pointed to me and said, “You,” then shook his head, pointed to himself and said, “You”. He was so proud of himself. No matter how many times I say, “Yes, that’s Logan,” he maintains he’s You. Yesterday we were doing something and I randomly said, “What’s your name, little boy?” and he once again said, “You.” My mum said, “Your name is Logan.” When he just looked at her, she asked what my name is, then her own, then his, and he triumphantly says, “You.” I totally lost it. And of course, when I get laughing, he gets laughing, and we both dissolve into fits of giggles.