18 months

Sweet Sam,
Forgive me for not doing this on time. You, combined with your sister, require a lot of attention these days, and while I've been thinking about your 18-month post in my head for a WHILE now, I'm just getting around to actually typing it out. Also, I will note that I could have had this knocked out an hour ago if you had agreed to nap like a normal toddler. But I digress.

Eighteen months old. Wowza. You are a BIG KID. I always thought you looked just like my little bitty baby until Molly showed up. And then Daddy and I changed your diapers at the same time on the bed the other day and the difference in size almost knocked me over. (Or was it the smell?) I cannot get over how gigantic your hands and feet are. I know it's all a comparison against Molly's tiny features, but up until she got here, you were tiny to me! I mean, you seem to weigh 60+ pounds when I have to lug you up the stairs with one arm, but we haven't been to the doctor yet for a checkup, so I can't comment on weight. (Although I can do actual curls with you in my arms, so chances of you weighing anywhere close to 60lbs is very VERY slim. Mama needs to work on her guns, that's for sure.)

Cute things you do right now:

You say "yeah" all the time. It is so stinkin' adorable. When you get on a "yeah" roll, I start asking you questions just so you'll respond with the right answer. I love it. Can't wait for more words to pop out of your cute little mouth.

You are babbling a lot more, but not really saying anything. "Uh-uh" means a PLETHORA of things. I have to assess the situation and respond accordingly. Because sometimes it can mean: 1) choo-choo 2) honk-honk 3) beep-beep 4) woof-woof) 5) tweet-tweet 6) more chex please 7) Odie 8) stinky 9) helicopter 10) motorcycle
I could go on, but it sort of goes without saying that those little grunts are your way of communicating right now.

When you sit in your highchair, you will put your hands behind you head and "flex your guns." I'm not sure where you picked this up, but you like for us to attempt to tickle you when you do it.

You are really interested in helicopters right now. Yesterday at the playground, one was flying in circles over us for what felt like an eternity. And you HAD to stare at it continuously, lest it fall right out of the sky. Also, the pointing was really cute. But then you got distracted by a group of birds hanging out and I was alternating between saying "tweet-tweet" and "helicopter." I never know who needs water more after our trips outside- you for all the running and playing you do, or me for the incessant, constant chattering about our surroundings.

Speaking of the playground, you are finally enjoying it. We've been to a few on post now, and you have taken a special liking to the slides. You aren't afraid to go down on your own, and yesterday you chose to go down head-first a few times. Hodgie reintroduced you to swings while she was visiting and you are no longer afraid of them either.

You enjoy playing with your trucks and trains, but since Odie has migrated inside, you are really getting a kick out of playing with her. You chased her around with a bag of chocolate chips the other day, and I don't think you realize that those things can actually kill her. She is such a good sport with you. We need to work on GENTLE petting though.

You are still gluten-free and avoiding peanuts like the plague. I made you a smoothie yesterday and you took it down like a boss. You still refuse to eat anything that tastes remotely healthy, so I've taken to hiding spinach in these smoothies. It tastes just as good, but I am sneaking a veggie in on you. HA.

Pretending you are eating real-life carbs.

Possibly the cutest thing you've done since Molly arrived? She was crying in her swing, Daddy was at work, and I was pumping. You grabbed her pacifier and stuck it straight in her mouth.
And then I died. You are too sweet and I'm so glad you are adjusting to her arrival sans violence.

With that said, you still have your moments, child. You are completely aware of when you're doing something you're not supposed to. You will even look at me right before you do it. You will sometimes scream (at a decibel that probably shatters Odie's eardrums) when things don't go your way. You have taken to tapping me on the leg if I'm not reading your mind and fulfilling your unknown wishes. I say tapping, but I have a sneaky suspicion that we will soon classify it as slapping. I tell you "no" and you always continue doing it until I distract you with something else.

You pitch the most dramatic fit when we have to come in after playing outside. I swear you could win Oscars for these tantrums. God forbid someone goes outside to throw away trash or get the mail or water flowers without you because you act as though you have been locked inside your entire little life and that I am the cruelest mother EVER. In reality, you just have a knack for getting really REALLY dirty when you're outside and I have to save all of that for the afternoons when there's no chance you'll take another nap in your crib.

You still thoroughly enjoy playing with recyclables.

You mow the grass with Daddy in the backpack and look so proud while doing so.

Your favorite book at the moment is the bilingual Ana Cultiva Manzanas. You mostly point out the dog, the birds, the cat, and Annie's truck. (I believe you are under the impression that every book is one of those books that has noise-making buttons. You think that if you point at it hard enough, the dog will bark, the cat will meow, the bird will tweet, etc.) Daddy and I oblige by making the noises associated with those pictures and we rarely even read the actual story anymore.

You can climb the stairs all by yourself, but sometimes lack the motivation to do so. (FRUSTRATING.)

You are wearing size 18-24 month clothes. I refuse to buy clothes new for you anymore because you are so rough on them. You play like a boy and that is perfectly fine by me. Just don't expect to go anywhere but church in "nice" clothes.

You IDOLIZE your father. You have recently been caught dancing, and when I asked Daddy where you learned such a thing (HEATHEN), he informed me that y'all had a dance party before bed the other night. So now you do this side-step move, turn around in circles, and basically high-step around the house. I don't know if I can smile any bigger when you bust a move. Especially when I picture Daddy doing the same thing.

You had your hearing checked today, and while you acted like the audiologist was sticking fiery torches into your ears, we learned that you can hear just fine. Apparently it is a listening issue. So now that I KNOW you can hear me, THE JIG IS UP MAN.

When outside playing in the backyard, you used to trip over the cement stepping up onto the patio. So every single time you were approaching the concrete, I said, "STEP UP" and that seemed to help. And when you did it, I would cheer and clap. Now, you are remembering to step up all on your own. When you realize your achievement (of not face-planting into the concrete) you clap and get a big grin on your face, and I can't help but join in.

You finally got some new shoes for the summer. Lord you have some sweaty feet. I mean, I won't pretend like I don't know where you got that from, but socks and shoes were just too much for you in the heat. Also? A big pain in the patootie to put on every single time we went outside. So I researched all of these toddler sandal-sneaker hybrids and read reviews and finally settled on a pair. You are REALLY enjoying them and you seem to be walking and running easier and tripping a whole lot less. Your feet also seem to be a lot less sweaty after playing outside, so that is just icing on the cake. It takes a lot of the sting of the sticker shock away, knowing that you are using them every single day and that they are working so well for you. (But seriously though, how can people charge so much for such tiny shoes?! Especially knowing they will only be worn one season?! It is MADDENING.)

You are such an energetic little guy and watching you play and babble and learn every day is so much fun for me. Please don't get any cuter or older. I don't think my heart can handle it.

I love you, sweet boy.