"I love you a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck" ~ Doris Day
How is it possible, my little Q-tip, that 18 months seem like they passed by in a mere minute? How can it be that I also feel like I have known you for my entire life? I should have started documenting your month days from the start. I should have kept up with your baby book. The months have already begun to melt together in a dreamy haze.I should be a much better mama, a near-perfect mama to my perfect
Sure, you have your own "imperfections." You like to gnaw on my fingers. You pull Elroy's tail with all of your might and dare us to stop you with those wide-open, piercing blue eyes. You drag us around with you everywhere by gripping our fingers like a vice, even though you can walk perfectly well on your own. You wail immediately in frustration if your truck runs into a piece of furniture. You continue to decorate the floor with your food when you're done eating, sometimes not eating your meal at all. You're a milk-aholic.
Oh, but those imperfections only add to your perfection in my eyes. You are learning about the world, forever testing, trying, investigating, wondering, wandering. You hold our hands because you want us with you for each moment. When I'm feeling worn out, I try to remember to cherish your firm grip because soon you'll dismiss my hand altogether. You're already learning how to slide off of our bed. You're maneuvering your ups and downs with much more ease. My late walker -- I still can't believe how mobile you are now.
Your favorite words are clearer and you're trying out new ones every day. Current favorites include "clock", "bye", "kitty", "dog", "door", "bottle", "foff" (I think that means fan or light), and of course "ball."
You love to wave bye-bye to the airplanes in the sky. Sometimes you'd rather watch the big kids at the park than swinging and sliding yourself. You push your face into my hands and nuzzle them tenderly. You love to give chase and dissolve into hysterical laughter when I chase you back. You hide behind me and then give me a big hug when I find you. I ask if we can hug forever, but then you spot your ball and run off.
You are my sweet boy. I'm so proud of you. I'm trying to be prouder of me, too. Quincy, it's your month day. Happy 18 month day, Quincy!