What I LOVE About My Son—Updates

The last time I wrote about my son was roughly a year ago, and he has undergone so many changes since then that I felt it was only necessary for me to talk about the updates to the myriad reasons I love my son. I am no longer lugging him around. As of now, he is a fully walking and mostly running individual, who can go up and down steps with relative ease. This of course causes us to now close those gates we installed to keep him from falling down the stairs. Twice since he can freely roam the house, he’s been downstairs with his Pop-pop holding deep conversations. His eyes still continue to fascinate me as I see them absorb new knowledge every day. He’s become quite the mockingjay (those who have read The Hunger Games will understand this reference). Lately, he’s taken to mimicking the sound of snoring (admittedly, mine) and of sneezing (he does his own little fake sneeze). I no longer have to hear many grunts associated with the rudiments of language because my dear son is now in the full-blown stage of acquiring language. He can now say mama, thanks, go and map (from watching Diego and Dora), can count to ten, recite some of his alphabet, and one my personal favorites “tickletickletickletickletickle!” I very seldom any longer have to worry to worry that I am feeding him too slowly, since he can now feed himself with a fork and a spoon. He has a mouth full of teeth now and gets them brushed daily. He is also on solid foods now, and even though we tend to stick to his favorites (macaroni and cheese, Chef Boyardee, and grilled cheese), I am happy to say that he still loves green beans and broccoli, and that we can generally get him to eat anything, except solid meats and as I’ve just found out, cooked carrots. While he’s still pretty quick to go from mood to mood, he has learned the dreaded terrible two fallout move, which is actually one of the few things I DON’T love. The whole decision to just stop moving or cooperate in any way is frustrating, especially when I’m carrying a purse and a diaper bag and trying to hustle us out of the door. I will say still most of his problems are solved by food or sleep and that he no longer needs to be burped. I’ve actually figured out the mystery of whose lips his more closely resemble, or in general who he favors more, and the answer (at least in my mind) is me. But I now have discernible proof. My dad dug up an old toddler picture of me at roughly Ayden’s age, and when I showed it to Lane, he thought I’d plastered a plait and a dress on Ayden and snapped a black and white photo. Someday, I’ll post the two photos side by side so that the rest of the world can see. My love affair continues.