Today my baby is 18 months old. Time is flying by too fast. Before I know it Arthur will be two. And then three. And then….just stop.
Arthur, you are awesome. Each month you are becoming more and more awesome. You are funny and make us all laugh every day. At the dinner table the shenanigans between you and Julian just won’t stop.
You two are always together. You play trains together, you run and chase each other, you play your guitars, build and destroy things, jump in Arthur’s crib, or slide next to each other at the playground. Everything that Julian does, you want to try. That means that at 18 months old you carry packages up our walk-up for me. On your own. You carry grocery bags for me. You climb up tall ladders at the playground without my assistance (but with my hands hovering around you…). You ride your scooter at lightning speed. In the morning, when Julian goes to school, you pack your bag with dinosaurs and trains and stand by the door in your pajamas and with some inappropriate footwear in hand (sandals, water shoes) and cry your eyes out because you can’t go.
But you can’t fool me. There’s still a little bit of baby left in you. At night you will call my name, and I always come to you. You’ve had a rough couple of months with lots of not feeling well, so I understand. Although you make me very tired. And then there are moments like last weekend, when Papa and Julian were at soccer practice and you and I cuddled and nursed on the couch, and you fell asleep in my arms a good two hours before nap time. So I laid there with you on my chest for an hour, looking at your face, stroking your hair, kissing your head. Moments like this are always a surprise and a break from your active, fun-filled life, and I soak them up like nobody’s business. Who knows…this may have been the last time you wanted to sleep next to me.
You’re is still not much of a talker, but you can get most any message across, even fairly complicated things like, “Papa, please get up from this chair and start playing the piano for me.” Or “Mama, please go get my dinosaur costume. I need to dance right now and be a dinosaur.” All that with very little words. You also have your brother, who knows your every want or need. “Arthur needs spicy water.” “Arthur is mad because he didn’t get any granola.” “Arthur wants to hear that song again.” You love yes or no questions, and I hope I will never forget how your face lights up and you enthusiastically explain, “Ja! Ja! Ja! Ja! Ja! Jaaaaa! Jaaa!” when I ask you just about anything.
So really, kid, I understand. You have absolutely no need to say much at all. We get you.
You are very into books. All day long you want to read. You will pull book after book off the shelf and drag them over to me. You jump on me and position yourself in my lap just right. Sitting next to me just won’t do. And then we look at the pictures. You can point to everything. Cement mixer, bulldozer, excavator, and other non-contrsuction site related things.
You also love talking on the phone. Anything can be a phone: an actual phone, a train, a spoon, or the remote control. “Baaaa? Baaaaaa!” Your enthusiasm for your friend Ba is unmatched.
We love you so much, kid. I love how you pad me on the shoulders as your wrap your legs around me in the tightest of hugs. I love that you are so totally your own person. There is no one like you in the world, and I can’t ever imagine a day in our lives without you in it. Your spirit shines so brightly, and you bring us so much joy. More joy than I could have ever imagined. Happy 18 months, Arthur.