A month already? Wasn't I just writing one of these the other day? Oh..... yeah. I was a bit late on the last one. You are now sixteen months old. I am getting emails saying things like: Your toddler at 66 weeks. I know. They said the t-word. Toddler. Can it be? Aren't you still a baby?Well, despite the fact that I have taught you to point to yourself and say, "me" when I ask, "Who's Mama's baby?" it is now becoming undeniable. You are growing up. Your hair is longer, and absolutely has a mind of it's own. You're taller, even if it's just a bit. You can eat things using utensils, although you still prefer to use your hands. But you still have those rubber band wrists and chunky baby thighs. And when you sleep, I can still catch little traces of the little baby you used to be. I love those moments, but I love the little boy you have become.
When you are awake you are a swirl of constant movement, ideas, and excitement. You go, go, go and never stop. Sometimes you even shout, "go, go, go" as you run from here to there. You find lots of things hilarious, and laugh often. I hope you always laugh often. Laughing is delightful, and I think there is nothing better than watching a delightful little boy with a delightful little laugh. You suddenly have lots of ideas about what you want to do, and when I don't agree you voice your concern, by screwing up your face and crying like you are devastated. It breaks my heart a bit, but I think one day you might thank me for protecting you and not letting you do all the dangerous things you want to do like jump off the slide at the playground.
You are a little sponge. You know shapes, and particularly like the star and heart. You are picking up words left and right. The other day I wrote a list and came up with 72 words that you say, but later on I kept remembering new ones. You can follow simple commands, and sometimes even multi-step directions without repetition. You somehow know how to do things that I have never taught or shown you. You still don't say I love you, but you request "hugs" and to "snuggle." You particularly love to snuggle with me. You sing along to the radio, and pretend to fly your toy airplane in the sky. You rock your little stuffed animals, and love to point out when you see a "baby" in the store. I could continue forever, but this little snapshot would not ever do you justice or convey just how lucky I am to have you. And I, sweet baby boy, am so very lucky to be your mama.