I’m within 50 pages of the end of a rough draft! This is the point where everything is coming together beautifully but I also have a running list of minor edits to go back and make in order to smooth it all out. It also means every other pursuit goes on hiatus, including the blog, because unghhhh I’m so close to the endddd.

In lieu of anything with more teeth, here are some fun facts about living with an almost-two-year-old.

You think the gross bit is that he keeps picking his nose, and then he tries to shove his booger finger up your nose.

And speaking of his nose, this week you found both kidney beans and raisins up there.

All you really want is to poop in peace once in a while. Except the one time you get him to leave you alone, you immediately hear the sound of uncased DVDs being banged together in the other room. The grass is always greener!

But seriously, how did he even reach so many DVDs? They’re on shelves behind a baby gate. If the baby gate betrays you, what CAN you trust?

He learned how to brush his teeth! Now he won’t stop brushing his teeth!

You’re definitely going to have a fork shoved in your eye at some point. The mystery is not how, but when.

When he snottily suggests that you put something away, you are slightly gratified that he wants things tidy, but also have to wonder, “Is that what I sound like?”

You’ve heard the jingle play on this particular toy for twenty minutes straight, but you aren’t about to interrupt because that means he’s been sitting in one spot for twenty minutes straight.

On the plus side, he’s willing to let you doze on the couch for a good half hour before he loses patience. On the other hand, he expresses that impatience by throwing blocks at your face. Best case scenario: he decides to kiss you awake instead, but his face is a river of snot.

You’re never going to sleep again. Everybody in the house sleeps but you, but you’ve developed some kind of permanent hyper-vigilance and even a cat’s sneeze will jolt you up. You read “Yes, Please” by Amy Poehler, and the part you identify with most strongly is that she’s a workaholic mom with a sleep disorder.

It’s not all snot and mischief, though. Living with an almost-two-year-old also means incessant conversation with an almost-two-year-old. He finds everything exciting and his vocabulary grows every day. He asks creepily observant questions and recognizes the musical cues for his favorite characters, and everything has a name, a color, and a sound effect. Everything is filtered through known concepts. For example, Iron Man is going to be right back because he’s checking the mail.

You also get a lot of hugs. Hugs are nice.