Today you turned 18 months old and I don't know how gifted you are at math (and with the genes from your father and I I'm guessing not very) but that means in just six short months you will be turning two. TWO. I. . .I can't wrap my mind around that. You're growing so fast and learning so many things and wasn't it just yesterday you smiled at me for the first time which made me burst into a puddle of hormonal and exhausted tears? Didn't you only JUST learn how to sit up on your own? If it weren't for pictures I would swear it were true.
Every single day you learn something new that makes your father and I gobsmacked because, like, isn't that something KIDS do? We still have a BABY and BABIES don't know how to point to helicopters in books, or pant and crawl around when we ask what puppies do. Babies don't know how to put their finger to their smiling lips and say 'shh shh shh' when we're sneaking up on daddy and need to be extra quiet. You are clearly telling us you are growing up and as much as I'd like to cover my ears and pretend it's not happening, I can't.
(See? The beginning signs of a teenager.)
You love to give kisses. Usually it's prompted but there are rare moments when you'll just give them away and it is in moments like these that butterflies erupt from my chest out of pure joy. You know quite a few words, but the ones that get used the most are mom-eee, da-da, cuh-kee, juice, ball!, truck, car, pup, cat, cracker and cup. The mommy thing is rather funny, as it seems to be your go-to word for when you want something. ANYthing. You chant it all day at daycare when something is out of your reach. You inundated your grandmother with it while she was watching you one day, despite her requests for "no, say grandma. GRANDma. GRAND-MA!" A typical day involves you saying "mom-EE! mom-EE! mom-EE! . . .MOM-ee! MOM-ee! MOM-ee!" even if I'm standing two inches in front of your face. You obviously feel the need to turn the alert level up to eleven, even right out of the gate which I must admit is rather entertaining. But how you address your father is another matter all together. With him you coo "daaaa-daaaah" in the softest most velvety voice ever to have escaped your lips. Now, why is this? I'm not offended, but just dying of curiosity. Please, remember your reason and as soon as you can speak in sentences I expect an answer mister.
I love this age. If I could I would bottle it and keep it forever because you are just so much fun. You crack us up every single day with your goofy antics and silly sounds. But as much as I want to freeze time right this very second, I can't wait to hear you ask questions and watch you find your passions. I'm giddy at being able to help you grow and learn and seek and explore. Seeing you achieve something you've worked so hard at for the first time fills me with pride and I know there is much more to come. So while my heart silently breaks when you suddenly look like A Boy some mornings and not A Toddler, I'm still okay with it. It's a joy and a downright privilege to be your guide on this crazy journey. The day to day minutiae filled with adventures here and there. You are my baby boy. My little man. My heart.
I love you bunches--