Lane at 18 Months

Today you are a year and a half old.  

When I was counting your first weeks of life, sleeplessly drifting through the apartment, I daydreamed of this time and it's better than those dreams.  I am completely in love with you and in awe of you and when we go out to play in the world, I spend my time pretending to look at my phone like the other moms at the park, but really I'm looking at you, always you, from the corner of my eye - watching you hate other kids (you really don't like them.  they kick trucks, and you love trucks), watching you learn to climb steps, watching you think.  I can't take my eyes off you, ever.  I love watching you grow.

You have a thousand words.  You say the specific names of lots of trucks (dump truck, bulldozer, excavator, crane truck- you know them all).  You say "YOU STINK!" when you do and "I'm gon gitcha" when you want to be tickled and "brush our teeth!" when it's time.  At night when you say "song" I want to devour you.   You know half of your ABCs!!  (lmnop, q,r,s,t,u,v is your favorite part) and you know some numbers and their order.  You can say Zuko, which is really really cute, especially when it's after "love you" or "nite nite".

You skinny kid, feeding you isn't easy.  Not because your picky per se, but because I'm going broke.  You love mandarin oranges, bananas, lentils, eggs, bagels, graham crackers, risotto and I can't figure out why you're so tiny when you want to eat ALL DAY LONG (maybe it's because we are still milkless over here, not even trying - just giving you the occasional yogurt and hoping for the best.)  Dinner time is the exception.  At the end of the day, the last thing you want to do is sit in a highchair, so it's a struggle, but every other time of day you'll eat as much as we give you.

You prefer books over every other toy, picking them up prodding us saying, "read, read" until we give in.  I can recite all the books on our shelf, and there are tons of them.  When you play quietly without us, it's always with books.  You love the library and the bookstore and the comic shop, duh.

You can run and climb on things, chairs and couches and tables, but you don't usually do that unless you're bored.  At home, you like to get out the broom and help sweep, fold the laundry and unload the dishwasher.  I'm surprised at how much you actually help do these things - like ACTUALLY hand me the dishes and ACTUALLY hand me one piece of clothing at a time without destroying it once I'm done with the crease.  You haven't started helping put away your toys yet.  That's next on the agenda.

We distract you to avoid tantrums and it feels ridiculous.  When you aren't done at the bookstore but our two-hours is up, I wave my phone in front of you and say, "Look!  Bulldozer!"  Sometimes it works but most of the time we're the parents b-lining for the doors as you scream.

Since the Ferber days of yore, bedtime is beautiful.  We bathe you, read to you, sing some to you, and you're out.  You still take a pacifier for sleep and you have a love affair with it, chewing it with your molars that are peeking through, spinning it around in your mouth.  I can't take it from you.  We've tried to get you attached to a stuffed animal in hopes of moving your affections, but you give them all hugs and kisses before bed and then sweetly mutter "paci?"  ...   So I have to give in  ...

You're the coolest.  Keep learning words.  Keep pushing boundaries.  Keep growing baby.  It's exhausting and also the very best thing ever.


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