Smoosh,

Today you are 18 months old. A year and a half. In some ways it seems like you were a tiny newborn yesterday and in other ways, I’m already beginning to forget what you were like then.

You are so big. Truly. You look about two and a half years old already. You are tall and sturdy and already loosing the baby look in your face. Women always look at me all weird when they see you with your binky and blankie in the middle of the day. Don’t take it personally son, they just think you are too old for it. If you were actually two and a half, maybe. But not yet. You are still my tiny little baby boy. You hold onto the bink for as long as you want. The other day we were in Target and a woman asked you a question about a toy. I laughed as you said HI!!!! She I think expected more of a response. Then you showed her your Mater truck and said YUK MAYER!!!! I had to tell her that you were not yet 18 months old and that you really had no idea about Batman yet. She was surprised. I am starting to think this will be a trend.

You are a pretty good toddler, if not completely destructive. There is not a table you won’t stand on, nor a plant you won’t over turn. You can destroy the living room in 2.5 seconds. I wonder why I even bother picking up all the toys, when you systematically go from room to room taking all toys out of the bins. Not that you play with many of them, you just believe they should be free. You love destroying anything that your sisters are playing with. You hide just about everything. Seriously son, where is the dogs Frisbee? I’ve cleaned this house from top to bottom and two months later, I still haven’t found them.

You are addicted to the movie Cars. I think I may be staging an intervention one of these days. You love all cars, but OMFG MAYER!!!! You adore Mater. You have about six Mater trucks. You literally sleep with a stuffed MAYER!!!! Each and every time you say Mater, you say MAYER!!!! He may be your favorite. Just a guess.

You have tantrums which I could have done without. It seems a bit young too me. But you know, third kid, you have to be advanced at this, right? I am a tantrum ignorer, which annoys the ever loving shit out of you. You throw yourself on the floor and scream and flail about. When I get up and leave the room, you get up all quietly and follow me, and then throw yourself at me again, screaming and flailing. It’s really kind of funny.

You eat. You adore food. I have never had a child that liked to eat anything besides air before. It’s new and strange for me. You will eat absolutely anything. Your favorites are hot dogs and yogurt though. You’d eat a hot dog for every meal if I let you. You ask for one each meal. When I say, sorry bud, no hot dogs, we’re having french toast this morning, you say, otay mama. As long as I feed you often, you are a pretty happy boy.

Wah dat mama? Is your new term. You say it often, as in all dang day. You are still a yes boy, although you do say no often. You are loud. I am constantly telling you, shhhh baby, inside voice. You think I’m very funny. Also most likely that I’m talking to hear myself talk.

You do this funny thing that we call, Bub’s adventures. You take us by the finger and make us follow you and then you force us to sit or do or see whatever it was that you wanted. Sometimes, you want me to sit in a different chair, so you can have mine. Sometimes you just want to show me what you’ve destroyed, or to have one of us retrieve MAYER!!!! from wherever he has gotten stuck this time.

Son, you are amazing. You are kind and gentle and super sweet. Your sisters and I adore you.

Happy 18 months.

Love, mama