In French, Where the Wildthings Are is translated as Max et les Maximonstres. It definitely loses something in the translation if you ask me. But no one asked and I'm a really bad translator anyway.
My little monster is 2 years old today. He was born at 5:52 in the morning. I felt like I was giving birth to an alien (Sigourney Weaver like), but I will spare you the gory details. But I will never forget the midwife's first words upon seeing him, "wow! la taille de ses mains...et les pieds!" (wow! The size of his hands...And his feet).
I always wanted a little boy named Max. And in fact, we almost had a Nathan or a Samuel instead of a Max. But I could imagine Max being anything except Max. And I couldn't imagine Max being anything but a curious, talktative and sometimes loud and devilish little beast of a boy.
Max is going through the terrible twos. And we get the feeling he's making up for his sister's angelic two stage so it's doubly terrible two's at the moment. He's a biter and a hitter. He's a screamer and the kind of tantrums. He's an acrobat, a bull in a china shop and as stubborn as a mule. He especially doesn't like when his food is cut (pas broken!) or change like when we try to put new shoes on him.
But he's also sweet, like to cuddle, likes to sing, like to laugh and play jokes on people and he's a smart little thing.
Max understands everything, in French and English. And he also picks up on non-verbal cues. He observes and watches people and remembers everything (just like his sister does).
So to my little man, whom I love for better and for worse, Happy 2nd Birthday!
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