|"A portrait of my son, once a week, every week, in 2014."|
My sweet baby.
You are 21 months old today and while I look at you and think how you've grown, I also am blown away by just how little you are. This will likely be the last month that we call you "the baby," since you are about to be promoted to big brother. And this cuts me a little. I'm not ready to let your babyness go, no matter how many words you are learning or routines you've gotten down. But you, you're ready. And for those moments where you aren't, where you just want to cry and cuddle and push my hair to the side to lay your warm cheek on my shoulder, I'm here for you. I will always be here for you.
But the truth is you are growing and developing just like you should. We tried to figure out how many words you know, because 100 by the age of 2 just seemed like so many, but I truly think you've already surpassed it. You may not say many perfectly, but you've got your own language and we try to catch on with each new word. Today it was "puz" and earlier this week you deemed your darling sweet potatoes "tay-tays". You're a sponge, and I remind your dear dad of your verbal sponginess quite often.
You're in a spell of waking up early, something that I'm not too fond of, and you don't wake up happy. So sleep. Please baby, just sleep. If the sun is up you are always just as sunny, but if it's still dark you deep down know it's not time. Or at least that's what I tell myself. Not that I can complain too much.
You love routine. Mornings you drink your bottle (yes, bottle. we are weak to the sippy cup switcheroo.) tucked in bed with us, look at my phone for a bit, and then announce it's time for "oa-mee" or "waf." You present me with my glasses, ask for us to get up, and then insist on standing on the corner counter where you can turn on the radio and play with the microwave. It's a morning constant that I'm sure I'll one day miss.
Being "ouside" is your place of choice, where you can run around, play "base" (t-ball), go on walks, and try to see your friends. You love playdates, and we try to do them every other morning or so. The whole day is better when you interact with other kiddos. And car rides are only complete when you've picked out a train to take with you.
You're just a spitfire my friend. Passionate and self-possessed and knowing what you want. You are exactly where you're supposed to be and it still amazes me that this is only the beginning of the journey.
LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE