I finally got my Trevor back for the most part. For the past week I have been corrected beyond my patience whenever I call his name... "I'm not Trevor I'm a (baby) (baby Joel) (Puppy) (Pteradactyl) (Dolphin)"
To his credit he was very good at not breaking character. His impression of Joel is impeccable. As a puppy he can even wag his imaginary tail (which is pretty funny). I did have to tell him no more woof-ing at Wal-mart and put the kibosh on eating off the floor.
When he is himself, I get to enjoy conversations like this:
Trevor: I got a little bit of lazy.
Me: Doing what?
Trevor: The single bike track. Then I made it all the way. That made me a little bit lazy.
I think he means tired. Scott thinks he means crazy. All I know is that he sure does absorb a lot of adult chatter --especially if it concerns bikes. He also calls granola bars "handle bars" and believes crashing is an important part of biking. I wonder where he got that idea?
Trevor: (while backseat driving home one day) You skipped a page. We are supposed to go that way, Mommy.
And, after learning about The Last Supper he had some more interesting facts to share with me. It included some pretty big words and made no sense (to me) at all. I actually don't think it was clear to him either, but he liked using the word "sacrifice" in a sentence.
Joel is on the verge of crawling and getting around anywhere he likes just fine to sample garbage on the floor and chew on books and bang on something loud. He is sleeping a little longer at night. He doesn't complain when I dress him goofy or fix a bland meal. He can give high fives and isn't stingy with the smiles.
