Lawrence of Olivier

More tidbits:

Oliver had his second week in nursery (his first week in our new ward's nursery). When I went to pick him up, I watched him for a few minutes through the looking glass, doing his thing. My favorite thing in the world is to clandestinely watch him in an foreign environment with foreign people, especially kids. The scene I observed was him and a few other 1.5 yr olds sitting around a round table with little cups of water, napkins, and crackers set neatly out before them. All the other tots' areas looked orderly enough, while Oliver's was a sopping mess. When I went in and remarked on this, the nursery folks informed me that upon receiving his cup of water, he dumped it out on the table, then, unsatisfied, commandeered those of his neighbors to make the pool bigger. Ratface.

I've already related Oliver's love for outside. Now that we're in a house, we let him have pretty free access to the fenced-in backyard. The few days it's been cold, we still let him out, but put his coat on. So now, like a dog with its leash, when he gets the outdoor itch, he'll find his coat, hunt us down, and thrust it in our faces. Then, when through darkness or some other reason, we bring him in for the rest of the day, he won't let us remove his coat because that would be an act of total surrender. So he kicks it the rest of the night inside with his winter coat on. As long as he's got the coat on, there's hope. Very remote hope, but hope nonetheless.

And no matter how long we let him play outside, he loses it when we bring him in. He loses it a lot lately in general, come to think of it. Kind of a big whiney pants about always wanting to be held, or up high on whatever object lends him a foot or two.

He's said his first non mom/dad name. He calls Jacob, Day-da.

Great guy.