I have a wish. I want you to stay this age forever. You’re absolutely killing me with your cuteness lately. I mean, you’ve always been cute, but lately, as your brain wraps itself around the new words you’re learning every day, the result is just priceless and I can’t get enough. And its not just the funny or sweet or unexpected things that come out of you’re mouth that I’m talking about when I say cute. Its the whole sweet package. I don’t know if its the contradiction of your built-like-a-tank exterior with your soft and sweet personality, or if I’m just a sucker for your curly hair (or both), but you’re charming the heck out of me.
I know that I still owe you a newsletter to cap off your first year, but for now let’s just skip ahead to today so I can tell you how you’re so quick to give a hug or a cuddle. And you’ve adopted a very European way of giving kisses when you give them.
One on each cheek.
And if your recipient is really lucky, they get one on the nose too. Dad and I usually get all three at bed time. And if you’re feeling extra generous you’ll put both hands on our heads and pull them down towards you so we can have a forehead… and top of head… and an anywhere-else kiss too. To delay bed time one kiss at a time. How could I refuse?
And though, you’re much too big to fit entirely in the crook of my arm any more, you will still ask for a snuggle in the chair after bedtime stories. Sometimes we’ll just rock so you can have some quiet time. Sometimes you ask me to sing you a lullaby. It doesn’t seem to matter much what I start singing. Usually you’ll interrupt me with a request to sing about trucks. Excavator doesn’t rhyme with much.
Once you’re in bed, you get tucked in with your buddy, “Woof”, the pillow dog stuffy that you can’t sleep without. Just the other day we forgot him at school and you woke up in the night sadly saying “No Woof. No Woof”. You have a special blanket too. Once you’re all tucked in and I’m standing in your doorway, you say to me “Night, Mom” with a little toddler pause between the two words and it just melts my heart.
When you’re not settling down for bed, or otherwise being especially cuddly, you have very busy active days.
You are a typically “boy’s boy” who loves the rough and tumble play of rough housing and jumping on anything that has even a little bounce to it. You don’t sit still for too long. Though, those stints are getting longer depending on the activity.
You LOVE trucks (construction trucks and trains and cars and any other vehicle that moves). And you have a special fondness for fire trucks in particular. In fact the only “joke” in your repertoire is about a fire truck. It goes like this:
Fire truck who?
Sometimes you get excited and don’t wait for the “Fire truck who?” part and skip right to making the sound. Sometimes you tell that joke in your sleep. You find it endlessly funny.
You are your brother’s biggest fan. You follow him around. You want to do what he’s doing, play what he’s playing, and see what he’s seeing. Harrison doesn’t always find this as endearing as I do. But now that you’re talking more, the more Harry is able to play with you and communicate with you. He’ll often ask you yes or no questions (or other “easy” ones) so that he can work with you to play a game, or find out what you want. You’ve called him “Ra-Ra” for a while now, but you’re starting to call him Harry. Sometimes you revert to the short-form. Usually I think its just because you’re in a hurry to get his attention.
Sometimes he’s the only one who understands what you’re asking for. Like the time not that long ago when we were all sitting around the breakfast table after we’d finished eating and you looked me squarely in the eyes and said, “Tree bow”.
Hmm… that was a stumper. I didn’t know what you were asking for. You cocked your head to the side in that adorable way that you do when you’re asking a question, trying to get out of trouble, or just generally trying to get your way and said it again.
I looked over at Harrison who had a little twinkle in his eye and he got up from the table and walked around and whispered to me, “Treat bowl”.
Yep. You wanted to eat a treat after breakfast and of course, Harry knew just what it was you were after. Adorable, but no.
My dear little Sprout, you have certainly lived up to the nickname I gave you before you were born. You’re growing so quickly and catching up to your brother in both height and weight. You may not be the “little” brother for long. It seems as soon as I’ve put the clothes Harrison has grown out of away, its time to take them back out again for you.
So, if you could just stop that I would greatly appreciate it.
I know my wish won’t come true, so each day I try to remember to take in all the little moments with you, make memories with you and hold this time of you in my heart and mind forever. And take lots of
embarrassing pictures too.
More about you:
You’re not a picky eater but it takes you FOREVER to eat.
You love to dip your food (most any dip will do).
For months you have exclusively had milk out of your “truck cup”. The only sippy cup that will do.
You love daycare.
Most mornings when I ask you if you’re ready to go down for breakfast you respond with “Yes. Pancakes?”
You will sometimes surround yourself with pillows and blankets and tell us that its your bedroom.
You refuse to wear sandals of any kind.
You always ask to be wiped up after a meal. You will sometimes ask for your hands to be wiped during a meal.
If you can see your rain boots, you must wear them. (rain or shine)
You call Redden, our 20+ pound cat, “Baby Cat”. Which is weird because you usually call things that are small “baby” and the larger version “daddy”.
You have an adorable crush on our friend Priya. You ask if we’re going to her house all the time.
You have a facial expression for every mood. You can pout with the best of ’em.
Your hair is wild and crazy and I love it.