Holy scheisse. My kid is 18 months old today. When did that happen?
I’ve said this before. This is the age where parents decide to have another kid because the kid is so much fun. Even his temper tantrum are interesting to me. I don’t always respond like he would prefer, but I find it fascinating how in one day he learned to go boneless when I try to herd him where he DOES NOT WANT TO GO.
Or how Sparky insisted Max could walk up and down the three stairs to his room solo. It took me one entire day of sitting in the hallway ready to catch him if he fell before I was convinced. He walks up and down in the center of the step, not holding on to the wall. He doesn’t even wait for both feet.
Physically, he’s always been ahead of the books/curves. He’s strong and tall. Skinny, but healthy. He lifts his high chair to move it where he wants it. He picks up everything he wants moved – cat stands, slide, chairs both grown up and kid sized. Sparky’s dreams of a powerlifter might not be so crazy. He’s a runner, kicker, thrower, stair and furniture climber. He’s tall. I think that helps. He’s also got big feet. His bod fits into 2-year-old blanket sleepers – the american ones with the feet – but his feet don’t.
He still doesn’t have a lot of teeth. The top isn’t so bad with a total of 6, but the bottom? Only the front two and two molars.
He sleeps 12 hours straight at night and 2 hours during the day. He also gets an hour of quiet time where he just hangs out in his crib and reads a book or dances in the mirror. He can hang out alone and that is a wonderful gift for both of us.
He’s pretty much loved. We continue to meet the 1000 kisses a day minimum and he doesn’t hate it. He’s not a snuggler but lets me inhale his deliciousness whenever I want.
He’s finally talking. Sparks and I consulted all the books and websites in the way only first time parents do worried that Max was falling behind, that we were failing in some way because he wasn’t communicating with his words.
Well, he’s now talking. Cat was his first word. Then good boy, ball, goodbye papa, clock, and lastly Mama. Mama might have been the last word, but it is the one he says the most. He’s also got baum, blumen, tschois and juice and counts the stairs with me – one-two-tree.
He tells me when he’s hungry by signing. This was the first deliberate communication between the two of us that wasn’t intuited or response oriented.
The first time he did it, I had no idea what he meant. He pulled me by my hand to his high chair and signed again. I was just blown away.
I mean really, you get to know these babies and they’re just babies until one day they aren’t anymore.
And Sparky? Well, when I was pregnant, Sparky and Claire were talking. Sparky said he couldn’t imagine anything cuter or snugglier or more love inducing than his cat (who was my cat until she traitorously decided she was Sparky’s). I think Claire laughed at him. Sparky laughs now too.
Max tell me when he’s hungry, but he tells Sparky when he wants to go for a nature walk. Between gathering the shoes and the carrier, Max leaves no room for misunderstanding when he stands at the door saying Goodbye and blowing me kisses. And I can see the love and pride in Sparky’s eyes every time. It’s like he can’t believe this little creature wants his time and attention.
For those of you who know Sparky personally, it might surprise you to hear that he is very vocal about having a 2nd one. This is the man who thought he’s be just fine without kids, ever. This is the man who slept through Max’s first 9 months.
Sparky hears Max more times than I do these days. It might be the pillow over my head, but whatever.
Here’s to you, kid. Thanks for the most delicious, incredible, fucking hard and awesome 18 months of my life.