You recently turned 18 months old and it occurred to me that I need to really take a few moments to document these milestones…my thoughts, your accomplishments, our trials, etc…so we can look back in the future and see how far we have both come.
It’s bittersweet, this 18 month milestone. This is the last one we will mark in “months”…we will be officially graduating to counting the years on your next birthday. My baby boy is growing up! You are so full of life and love…my daily sermon to stop and smell the roses. Or the legos. Or just eat them.
You are just shy of 25 lbs, 77% percentile for height and 66% for weight. You have gained a lot of weight since you started eating real food and off the breastmilk and goat milk formulas…but you’re still a tall, skinny dude. You may look like a spitting image of your daddy, but you are built like my daddy. The baby-led weaning was the best thing we did for all of us at 7 months!
It seems like everyday you say a new word now. You can say: hot, no, cup, shoes, Daddy, apple, hi, bye, up, open, dog, and butt…to name a few. You’ve also said “metronome” twice, clear as a bell, while playing with Daddy’s metronome. My personal favorite is “butt”…I don’t care if it makes me a bad mother. I point to Daddy’s behind and you clearly declare “butt!” in all your boldness. That’s my boy.
You love being outside. I contribute this to 1) being a boy and 2) the fact that we are inside-homebodies. Your father more so than myself. So it’s a true adventure when you go outside and you hate coming back in. I have been making an effort to take you to more parks and around the neighborhood so you can explore, touch, feel, hear, and see. I also try to give you opportunities to speak to people and meet animals. You seem to love it.
You’ve gotten bolder with your toddler 4-wheeler and you’ll drive all over the place. When you learn to turn the handlebars, I will be a happy momma…it’s killing my back! But the smile on your face is totally worth it.
You love dogs. Cats…they’re dogs too, apparently.
Your hair is finally growing in. You’ve been a baldie for a long time, dude. You have these incredibly huge sea-blue eyes and I can’t tell if you’re going to have true blonde hair or if it’s going to be a strawberry blonde mix. You keep us guessing.
You are a Youtube addict. That’s a parenting flaw, for sure, but you also appear to be learning your words and animals from the educational Badanamu and Elmo videos so I don’t beat myself up too badly. You’ve learned A, B, C, and D from Badanamu’s Sing the Alphabet and I’m one proud mama. You love to play with books at Mema’s house but not at ours so much. We’re the technological home, apparently. You also love to dance.
I admit, I pimp you out on Facebook several times a week. I can’t help it, I’ve never been so proud of another person before. The mention of your name brings joy to my heart and lights up my face no matter what is going on. My heart yearns to be near you when I’m at work and I often crave to be a stay-at-home mom, even though I am truly enjoying my professional life. I take so many photos and videos of you that my phone is running out of memory. Thank God for OneDrive cloud backup.
You look just like your father but you have my expressions and mannerisms. You have my dance. One of my favorite things is tickling you and chasing you around the house while you scream and laugh hysterically. Your laugher and the pitter-patter of your little feet through the house is music to our ears.
Saturday and Sunday afternoon naps with Mommy…our special time together.
The tantrums have started when you don’t get your way. I guess I’m not really as affected by them as I thought I would be. I think I inherently understand that your emotions are sometimes bigger than your body can handle, so you FLOP your body down and scream. I totally understand, little dude. Sometimes I want to do that, too. Flop as long as it is socially acceptable to do so, I won’t judge you.
You are still co-sleeping with us at night and although I think all of your baby teeth are almost completely in, you still don’t sleep through the night. You also still need a bottle of milk to go to sleep. Considering that you don’t use a pacifier, I think I’m okay with all of this, but as our conversations get more fruitful, we will need to address these in the coming months. Mommy needs her sleep, Batman.
I watch you sleep. I know, it’s creepy, right? But I do. You are the most beautiful person, and so angelic when you’re sleeping…completely surrendered next to me. Trusting. Safe. I know this won’t last forever, so I cherish every single moment. As much as I would love for you to stay like this forever, I don’t want to ever hold you back for my own satisfaction. It’s my job to raise you to be an independent, loving, happy, and God-fearing man. I owe that to you, so I just live in the moment with you…day by day.
So the next time I write this, you will be 2 years old. Oh, my heart, my heart.