My baby just turned 18 months old. On the one hand I wonder how we got here so quickly. On the other, it feels like he should still be my baby, not this chatty, active (nearly running) toddler.
I took him to his 18 month appointment today – 20% weight (23.5 pounds) and 70% height, saying way more words than is normal at his age (especially for boys), excelling with his use of utensils (the kid was born to eat) and basically happy and healthy.
There were shots involved in today’s visit, so he wasn’t happy for long. Funny how the doctor leaves the room right when the “fun” starts and leaves mummy and the nurse to pick up the pieces. Nothing a cookie (or “cacka!”) couldn’t fix.
Things I love about Samuel at 18 months:
- That he hits you (not good) but then switches to softly stroking your cheek when you tell him gentle
- The way he greets me on same days when I walk in the door with a bear hug around the leg
- The way he says “night night” and happily goes up to bed when he knows it’s time
- That he falls asleep almost immediately with just a little wave goodbye
- And then stays asleep for 12 hours straight (most nights)
- That he is finally saying Thomas’ name after months of “Evan” and “George” and “Jenna” and basically any name EXCEPT Thomas.
- They way he eats with a spoon and makes less of a mess than his four year old brother
- That he is easy to understand, even when not using his words.
- That he LOVES to say Bye and ‘ello! accompanied by hand gestures – and to ANYONE. It is so fun to walk down the street with this kid.
- His favourite words: No, No and No. ‘At (Hat), Jaquet (Jacket), Shoosh (Shoes), Yah (Yes), Daddy (ok, heĀ sometimes says Mummy), ‘appy (happy), Cheeeese!, Cacka (Cracker)
I am a little sad that he is growing up, but happy about the little person he is becoming – even the inner Drama Queen. I gather the kids needs to do something to get a little attention around here.