Nineteen Months of Amazing...

My boy turned 19 months yesterday.

Nineteen months.

I just don't know how it's gone by so quickly.  Seriously, I feel like he was just six months and we just moved to North Carolina.

He's closer to two than one (sigh) and we've been here over a year.

Un.be.lieve.a.ble.

He is something else, I'll tell you.  He is really sweet...just starting to get into wanting to give us unsolicited kisses and allowing us to snuggle without insisting on "Doooooowwww—uhn" repeatedly. In fact, he is really, really free with his kisses and I love it.  When he blows kisses, he always ends it with, "Muah!" like Mommy does and it's hilarious!  Every morning, we walk downstairs and we say, "Good Morning, Matthew," )"M-ing Ma-Mew," and he blows a kiss.

Melt.my.heart.

Every night, after his bath, we wrap him in his towel and give him snuggles.  We call this "Snuggle Baby," and it's very special to us! He loves it and just lets us hold him all snugly wrapped in his towel as we read to him or just hug and love on him.  Today, at the pool, after we got out, he was cold.  I gave him a towel and he somewhat tried to wrap it around himself and said, "Baby, Baby?"
He was cold and wanted us to do Snuggle Baby with him.

True love.

Additionally, he's very salty!  (Which I love.  Honestly, I love his spunk.  He's got enough of it to remind me he is a little boy who is trying to make his way in this world, wanting what he wants just like the rest of us, while at the same time, is pretty easily distracted and fairly compliant most of the time.)  He is into screeching these days, which is so funny because it's so a picture of how some things are just innate in us.  He surely does not hear screeching from me or John.  When he screeches, we call him our "Howler Monkey."

We also call him T-Rex, because if he doesn't screech when he is unhappy, he'll sort of rear himself back and kind of small-roar like a baby T-Rex.  Either way, when he does it, it's usually pretty easy to direct him to something else and as somewhat irritating as the screeching for no good reason is, I know it could be SO much worse—his 'fits' are so benign compared to so many I've seen, so I don't complain!

He's not fond of sharing some things, and then other times, he is fine with it.  John wants me to get him into 'school' or Mother's Day Out for some socialization, and I guess I will, but honestly, I just want him with me.  All the time.  I *do* like having an hour or two here or there where I can just have a cup of coffee and read the paper, but I truly just love having him with me and near me all the time.  I don't want to miss a thing.

He talks a lot.

A lot.

He talks or sings himself to sleep.  He talks to himself and sings to himself when he wakes up.  He talks to himself in the car.  He talks to himself in the bathtub.  He talks to Dixie.  He talks to me.  He talks to the television.

He talks.  I love it.  We prayed that he'd have John's math/science skills and my language abilities.  So far, we might be on track with that!  All I have to say is he'd be up a creek if reversed!  He parrots the end of every single thing we say...whatever the last word is, he attempts it.  His new favorites are every night after I sing to him, I ask if he's ready to go Night-Night.  "Night Night?"

"Yes, honey."

"Honey?"

"Oh, you are my sweet, sweet boy."

"Boy?"

"Yes, Mama's Baby."

"Baby?"

It's so sweet...he's curled into me and our faces are super close...I snuggle him and he snuggles me and I kiss his eyes and cheeks and he plays with my teeth and lips and giggles.

I know that bedtime won't always be this precious, and I cherish every second of it.

Still not eating much.  Stinker.  Tonight, I gave him a small bowl of mixed vegetables.  He put a spoon with two kernels of corn and a pea in his mouth.  I nearly had a heart attack.  He didn't spit them out, but promptly gave the bowl to me.  "Thank ye."

That's what he does...when he gives us anything, he hands it to us and says, "Thank ye."  As in, "Thank you," but he says "Ye."  He actually is saying "Please" and "Thank You" more and more without prompting, so I am pleased.

I want that boy to have manners!

Anyway, he pretty much eats just about anything in a pouch—thank God for Plum Organics pouches!  He calls them all "Ah-uhl-auce" (applesauce) and he'll eat them all day long and twice on Sundays.

But real food?  Hit or miss.

He's also on a water strike lately.  Not sure why; he usually drinks milk or water only during the day, and I've had to revert to some juice just so he's not dehydrated.  I'm not anti-juice by any means, but he has such a sweet tooth, I'm trying to limit it as much as I can when I can.  I hope it's just a phase because I've tried to be good about not worrying about him eating too much as long as he's always been well hydrated.  I don't want that to be an issue!

He has a bit of his Mama's OCD.  He does not like to have stuff on his hands, or on his mouth.  He very readily asks us to wipe his hands (holds them in the air and says, "ands, ands?" and he easily lets us clean him up during and after meals.  The problem is convincing him that it's OK to get messy with art supplies!  The only cure?  Immersion!  So, we are doing more and more art projects.  There is some mild protest, usually, but also some enjoyment, so I'll keep at it.  It's much like swim lessons—he wants to do what he wants to do, and as long as he is, life's great.  Try and get him to do something else?  Howler Monkey! (He's doing great in the water, though, and my goal was safe water play, so I guess it's ok that I'm spending mega-bucks for playing in a big bath-tub!)

There's so much.  It's a fun and wonderful time and I just adore him.

I have always loved the Edwin McCain song, "Could Not Ask For More..."

"These are the moments I'll remember all my life..."  They are.  They are all I dreamed of and what sends me to sleep with a smile on my face.  Other lyrics in the song are, "These are the moments I thank God that I'm alive...I have all I've waited for, and I could not ask for more."

I do thank God I am alive.  There were many, many days I didn't.

I don't have all I've waited for, but will one day.  One day.

And, starting our last round of stims tomorrow because I *am* asking for more.

Because he is just too much Heaven on this earth to not give it one more try...

This is him saying, "Thank Ye!"  He was not initially interested in painting!

He really, really wanted me to open the paint container.  I gave in!

"Oh, fine.  Here.  I'm touching my hands with paint on them.  Happy?!"

"What?  Is there something on my face?"

I can't believe how grown-up he is looking.  I can see my Mom here.  And what he will look like as a young man.   Sigh.....