Parker at (almost) 14 months.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
I don't want to rush it along. He's not 14 months yet. But we're approaching it, and quickly too. This time of year seems to fly by. Summer is escorted out so quickly by us bloggers, isn't it? Pumpkin bread and pumpkin lattes and fall fashion posts, boom. It happens fast even though the days are still delivering 80-something degree temperatures at times. Changing of seasons. It's exciting. It's new. I get it.
Nevertheless, he's almost 14 months. 13 and a half. Which is crazy. You're hard-pressed to find any suitable onesie, besides pajamas, that still fits these babies-not-yet-toddlers (But, I did. And it's here. You're welcome.). And, what better to remind you that they're still so little and new than sticking them in a onesie? You can't place them anywhere, turn around, and expect that they'll still be there kicking their legs wildly in the air when you turn back around. You can't put them down for a diaper change without pinning them as they arch their soft little backs, contort their mouths, and let out a wicked scream. (But Parker, we do this every day, multiple times a day. Will you ever just go with it? The answer: probably not.) You can't leave a room unsuspectingly anymore. They know. And they're mad about it too.
No, you can't do those things. But you can laugh with them. And it's the purest sweetness. It's monkey see, monkey do around these parts. He sticks out his tongue and shakes his head, I stick out my tongue and shake my head. And we laugh. I stamp my feet, and he stamps his feet. We laugh some more. You can hold their hands and walk places while they wear the proudest of smiles on their face. "On two feet! Just like you guys!" You can read stories together and, you can be pretty sure, they understand a lot of it. You can share food and watch as they discover what's in their mouths with such concentration. You can watch the baby chub disappear, seemingly overnight, as they move about, never stopping, until sleep. This one, I so wish, would slow down. I'm going to miss those rubberband-like wrists when they depart for good.
They are changing all the time. As Mom to one of these little people, the change is so expected that it's a constant. Naps change, moods change (thanks teething!), appetites change. In one fluid motion, they're bigger and stronger, funnier and faster. It's happening all the time.
I'm trying to soak in every last bit.