18 Months (Just Barely)

I'm really late making notes about C's 18-month milestone.  So late, that she's almost 19 months old.  Here's hoping I can focus long enough to finish this post in one sitting.

At 18 months, C, you are so affectionate.  I always said your sister knew no stranger, but you've upped the ante.  She wanted to talk to everyone we saw; you want to hug them all.  You do not discriminate on the basis of gender, race, or species.  It doesn't even have to be an animate object.  You recently pitched a fit at the splash pad because you couldn't figure out how to hug the fountain of water coming out of the ground. You're starting to accept that sometimes you can't give a hug and blowing kisses is a reasonable substitute.  It's a shame those lizards at the pet store were in a cage and only got an air kiss.  (No, we weren't pet shopping; only passing time out of the summer heat.)

You like playing with baby dolls, looking at books in your bed, coloring at the table (and sometimes on it), taking your clothes off and trying to get them back on, racing your sister, wearing other people's shoes, dancing, most foods (pickles, olives, onions, french fries, all fruit), crunching ice, telling knock-knock jokes with no punch line, mimicking A (for better or worse), swinging on the big girl swing, helping mommy sweep, and sitting in a big chair at the table, just to name a few.

Elmo is your new crush.  It's the first time I've seen you glued to the television.  I found a pair of Elmo pajama's in the 24-month hand-me-downs and you've worn them all week.  I could hardly get you to take them off the first morning.  I made the mistake of letting you see that Elmo band-aids exist, and you had them open before we checked out.  We'll enjoy it while it lasts, because I've got a hunch that Disney princesses are not far behind.

You are fascinated by steps.  The only one we have at our house is the curb at the end of the driveway.  On rare mornings, when I'm feeling like I can handle the heat for fifteen minutes, you go almost to the street and step on and off the curb as many times as you can before the heat and humidity cause a chemical reaction that turns your mama into She-Hulk.  Any other time you see steps, you want to give them a try.  When the weather is cooler, I promise to find a big, long set of stairs somewhere that you can go up and down to your heart's content.

You're hitting the "let me do it myself" stage with full force.  It started with buckling your booster seat after you got out of it.  Now you want to buckle yourself into it, and you also want to buckle your own car seat.  You also fiercely want to be able to dress yourself, but you're just not that coordinated yet.  Boy, do you get mad, mad, mad when I have to intervene and help you.  You want to dress your baby dolls, too, but that takes awhile to master.  Your big sister has finally figured it out, thank goodness.

Your 18-month well-check was pretty routine.  We got sent to the pediatric orthopedist, but that turned out to be nothing to worry over.  I'm supposed to keep an eye out for your fourth front tooth on the bottom.  It hasn't come in yet and it might not be there at all, since most of your one-year molars are in now.  Also not a problem, but we might have to take some steps later to make sure there is space there for your adult tooth.

You warm my heart and make me smile with your big, tight hugs and happy face.  You're getting over an ear infection and I had to hold you in the rocking chair through a few naps this week.  It wasn't convenient, but it was my pleasure to comfort you and have you relax into my arms.  What does God have planned for you, little bit?  How can I help you get there?  Can't wait to see.