That's prounounced [looch-a-door].
Our little man is wild. He hurls his body in various directions of interest. If he wants me, he dosesn't scoot, crawl, walk or reach. He throws himself at me. When he lays down, he flops down flat and stays in place.
The other day at Teeargit he was crawling on the floor when he got too far from me. So, I went to pick him up and he hurled his body away from me to escape. Whacked his head on a clothes rack and got a huge shiner.
The other night I had to get up to check on the girls in thier bed, I guess the sleeping baby sensed I had moved over and he hurled his body off the bed trying to get me.
When he isn't in the mood to be picked up, he does a back-bend with his hands in the air and slides out of your arms. "Mom! I can't pick up buddy, he's doing the bendy thing!"
When he is crawling and wants to go faster, he looks down at his belly and sort of cranks up the speed and flies across a room with this power crawl. "Mom! Anderson is headcrawling again!"
Lexi is excellent at giving everything a title.
He knows what he is doing. He is in the hitting, throwing and hair pulling phase. He likes it because he knows it's something by the reaction. He'll do the offense and then widen his eyes, close his mouth and look straight at you. Almost like he is saying, "uuuh, huh. what'cha got?"
Yaaah, boys really are different. He is soooo physcial. Everything is done with his body. Stan's "title" for him right now is luchador. It's spanish for a Mexican Free-style wrestler.