6 Comments April 14, 2009
Archives – April, 2009
Milo, I have been trying to find the quiet time to write about you for months. You are now 16 months old and short and stocky as ever. You have fluffy hair that blows in the wind. There are waves of bright orange mixed with feathery tufts of blond. Your eyes are insanely beautiful. You are a capable and dangerous little guy. You climb to higher heights weekly. You now love to jump off of things. I have injured myself many times racing to catch you as you happily leap from table tops and beds. You have only hurt yourself a few times. If there is anything that looks climbable, you are on it.
You laugh whenever we laugh and always smile when we smile at you. You have very expressive eyebrows. You raise them up and down all the time. You like to make funny faces and blink at me a lot, so that I'll blink a lot back at you. It makes us both smile. You sit in-between daddy and me and look at him and say, "daaaaaaaady!" and then to me and say "maaaaaah-me." You repeat this a few times and we just melt for you. You are very loving and sweet. You dole out hugs and kisses throughout the day to all of us. You often run by me, come back and wrapped your little arms around my leg and squeeze it. I rub your soft head and then you go back to running. I try to etch those moments into my memory so that I will never forget the feeling it gives me, the feel of your pudgy hands, the sounds of your puppy-like breathing, the way you close your eyes when you press your head against me. "This right here is perfection. This is happy. This is pure and love and this is Milo at 16 months. Please remember it."
You do have a temper too. When things aren't going your way you throw things and then pick them up so that you can throw them again and everyone will know that you. are. not. happy. I usually let you be mad and sit by you until you're finished and then you come for to me for comfort and hugs. You don't stay upset for long thankfully and I'm happy that you'll let me help you feel better when you're ready.
Keely and you have a number of games you play together. They involve yelling, screaming, and running mostly. Some funny faces are also thrown in there. She doesn't let you near her things and thinks you will break everything or lose them. Most of the time, if you do get a hold of something of hers, you give it back to her quickly. Sometimes for fun you get inside of your barrel and chase us through the house growling like a monster. You laugh the whole time. You also love to lead us around the house. You grab our hands and drag us up and make us wander around the house. You don't seem to have a destination in mind, but you happily bring us on many a house strolls.
You have a lot of words now, but interestingly you prefer to say the sound something makes instead of its actually name. A car/truck is "vroom!" A bear is "roar". You do finally say, "Keely" though. When you ride your push bike through the house you continuously say, "vroom. vroom." I love it. You also play a "HI" game where you just keep saying, "hi" and we say in back over and over. Your words currently are: mommy, daddy, Keely, baby, Milo, cracker, hi, baby, uh-oh, puppy, Caribou, cat, Sadie, woof, meow, roar, neigh, ribbit, quack, elephant trumpeting noise, hoot, tweet, vroom, rock-rock, flower, beep, sock, shoes. I'm not saying anyone other than me could recognize all of those words, but I know what you are saying. You mostly talk like a chimp or a caveman. Lots of uh-uh's of different intonations and ma ma ma ma ma's until we figure out what you want.
Your favorite hobbies are climbing, book reading, rocking/riding, and spotting puppies. We alert you to any we see walking down our street so that you can fly (Man, can your short legs move fast!) to the closest window to yell, "Puppy!" at them. You chase every dog that is at the park or beach-no matter what size they are. They lick you with giant tongues, slobber in your hair, knock you down with their wagging tails and huge heads and you go back for more and more… until I have to drag you away. You, of course, cry and turn your body into a heavy wet noodle with arms up-stretched. Hoping to slide out of my arms so that you may go back to your beloved dog and its stranger owner that is now at least a mile away. So that's always fun. You love your dogs Milo.
Food shopping is also another hit. You are content in a cart for about 14 seconds and then you want out. NOW. I try to carry you, but I can't push a heavy shopping cart, monitor Keely, shop, and hold 25 pound you. I put you back in the cart and you start throwing our goods to the floor. You reach to the back and grab anything you can and then fling it to the ground. Crash, splat. I have to stop every few feet to retrieve said dented, smooshed products. You throw out of the right side and the left side. Then a few right in front. I leap, grab, and jump a lot. Last week on our way out, you lifted a big carton of orange juice and I went to grab it, but you were faster than me- you flung it to the ground and there was a lady squatting down getting something. The carton whacked her in the arm really hard. I was so embarrassed and sorry. I have no answers for getting the shopping done with you. No toys keep you entertained. Toys cannot compare to flying food products and a dancing mommy. Hopefully, when our house is sold and our new house is settled into- daddy can take over the shopping for awhile. I think it's best for everyone (especially assaulted by o.j. lady) if you stayed home.
Crackers are your favorite food. You go to the cabinet and slam open the door saying, "Twahter" repeatedly-until we get them for you. You love to drink water from our glasses. You like to take showers with me and put your face in the stream of water. You bang on the door and yell if I try to shower without you. You still sleep next to me at night, wake up several times and want to nurse often. In the daytime, you try lifting my shirt up so that you can nurse anytime you get upset or feel tired. It's quite sweet- except there are many places that you try and do this when the timing or company isn't quite conducive to the nursling. Boy, do you get mad if you are made to wait. You still are taking two daytime naps.
I love you little boy. You bring me so much joy. My eyes tear up just thinking about your yumminess. I wish I could keep you this age forever. You are a handful, but you are so loveable and adorable that it hurts. If you think I'm asleep you get right in my face and breathe heavily on me and then say the sweetest, "maaaaahME?" and you smile so big when I open my eyes. I want to eat you up. Usually the next step is you flailing and moaning to get us all out of bed so we can get running around, but it is so nice when I get to wake up to your bright face Milo. I adore you.