Eighteen Months

My little caboose. You are my child through and through. You may look like your dad and your siblings, but the personality, the short fuse, yeah, that came from me. For as big a surprise as you were, we can't imagine life without you. I have gotten the opportunity to slow down and enjoy your babyness. You've reminded me of all the wonderful things about babies, the way your head smells, the joy of discovery, the breath taking ache of watching your heart walk around outside your body.



You've been the touch me not baby. You love to sleep in your crib, you never did like sleeping with me beside you. You frusterate K to tears by your refusal to allow her to smother you with kisses, you hit, pinch, scratch and push everyone except your dad and your brother. (Well, you hit your brother, but only because it makes him laugh.) But lately, you've been running up to me for short snuggles, you've even taken to giving us spontaneous kisses, without trying to bite us!


You love to climb up on your daddy's adjusting table and have him adjust you. You lie with your face in the paper and you are the only baby he's ever known that will tolerate the vibrating massager. In fact, you don't just tolerate it, you adore it. You also love to bring us the lotion stick and lie on the floor on your belly with your hiney in the air and wait for us to rub it all over you. You are a finicky eater. You mostly subsist on Honey Nut Cheerios and Craisins. A day without Craisins is a day in pergatory for you. You drink out of a cup with ease and never have liked the sippy cup. On the day you turned 18 months, I took away your bottles. You just got unlucky. I didn't really have a problem with you having them, but the nipples were worn out and I just couldn't bring myself to buy you new ones. You've handled the transition well and no longer need the crutch to get yourself off to laa-laa land.

You carry on the family tradition of having a blankey, yours is called "Fuzzy Blankie". It's so heavy you can't carry it with you, but you chew on the binding when you go to sleep and you usually sleep with half of it underneath you and half over the top of you. You only go to sleep with your head covered, silly girl.


You like to go to nursery class now that you are old enough to go, but only through snack time. Once snack's over, you pitch a fit until they come grab momma out of Young Women's and then we have to get you home for a nap, or, if I'm lucky, you will occasionally sleep in the car now, instead of screaming bloody murder. You like yourself some nap time. No amount of schedule change will get you past church happening during every bit of your normal nap time. And you're only little once. I will absolutely indulge your needs on this one, and I will enjoy every moment of it.


You have stolen our hearts. Your daddy and I look forward to you and your siblings jumping in bed with us every morning, even though you don't snuggle and spend the whole time kicking us and climbing over us, and generally being a tease. Your siblings continue to fight over who gets to take a bath with you, even though you poop in the bath tub about 50% of the time. I've never had a tub pooper. I've never had a nose picker. See all the ways you've completed our familiy? D even loves having you in her room while she works on homework and listens to music. Your inability to refrain from dancing whenever you hear a catchy beat makes you great entertainment. You've also taken to singing in the last weeks. I swear you are starting to develop a sense of pitch. We'll have our family quartet yet! Your brother got a slinky for his birthday and you carried it around all night, singing to it. You play the Casio piano for hours every day. You run the thing as well as your brother and sister. You turn it on and off, change the songs, change the sounds, but try as I might, I can't get you to turn down the volume.


So, a few days late, happy 18 months my angel baby. I'm so glad you joined us.