Caught?  Doing What?

 

Doesn’t everyone eat their ice cream like this?

 

What?  Why’re you lookin’ at me?

This baby is somethin’ else!

He is creepin’ up on 18 months old  – still rotten as the day is long and cute as a button all at once.

My little walking contradiction.  He reminds me of the little girl with the curl in the middle of her forehead.

When he’s good, he’s very, very good.  But when he’s bad, he’s horrid!

Mr. Independent.  Doesn’t want to hold your hand.  Doesn’t want your help.  And yet, must have me.  Only me.  Still hates to be away from me (hates is mild).  He will play at church now (as opposed to the full scream for the entire time that he did for weeks on end).    

Still climbin’ everything in sight.  He climbs on the couch, then onto the end table and jumps/rolls/dives head first onto the couch, laughing the whole time.  He can jump.  Some of the time with both feet off the ground.  He can do flips on the floor.  Real head over heels tumble.  Runs to do everything.  Runs.  Remember, this is the child that pushed me to the point of googling “6 month old doesn’t roll over.”  It’s been a year since that google search, now he has more bumps, scratches, and hurts than I’ve ever seen. 

He loves playing with his siblings.  And rough is the only way to go.  Loves to wrestle.

He loves cuddlin’.  But only on his terms.  He must choose who’s the recipient (this can change from minute to minute) and you’re either gonna get 500 of the wettest cutest kisses over and over with the sweetest tight neck hug or you’re gettin’ snubbed.  And if he’s on the outs with you, no amount of begging will win you a sloppy smooch. 

He’s not a blow you a kiss kind of sweetheart.  He’s a give me five kind of boy.

He will point to body parts that you name, mostly, but don’t ask him where his eyes are – I’m afraid with his enthusiasm he may pluck them out one of these times.  Good grief.

He still does his signature “be bop” whole body dance to most any music.  And in the car, he will move his head back and forth in time to the music.

He puts hats on, hides under buckets, and plays “look at me” kinds of games.

He is not only a ”parrot” now, but will also use words meaningfully.  A few of his favorites: hot, down, ‘ck-up (pick up), balloon, bubble, MAMAAA!! (just started saying this one, but makes up for the long wait with much urgency), daaa-ddy, ice (he loves to dig in daddy’s cup and chew the ice), yook (look), treat, cookie, chips, shoes, thank you, ’tuck (stuck), bye-bye, but the simple “hi” may very well be my favorite. 

Everytime he got caught doing something, he used to make this face: 

 

He’s recently discovered, however, that cute is the way to go.  The second he gets caught he says, with a smile, no less, “Hi.”  Followed up with a hug and open-mouthed kiss if he senses that it’s BIG trouble.  It’s one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.

He has almost all of his teeth, just waitin’ on 2 on the bottow row to make their appearance.  That chipped tooth has become his calling card.  So him.  And you get to see it all the time.  He either is giggling and laughing uncontrollably or he’s screamin’ mad.

He sleeps through the night in his own bed (for the most part), although I do indulge him a nursing mid-sleep if I’m too tired to put up with the scream-it-out kinda night.  Yeah, still nursing.  Completely.  He still won’t drink very much milk at all, and I don’t feel like pushing it, since he’ll nurse at any moment.  

And since I know how quickly this age melts into the next, I’m goin’ with it.  Nurse on, my little sweetie, all too soon your babyhood will only be a memory.