Growing

 I woke up yesterday and stared at this little man.  He looks bigger.  His face looks different, somehow. 

18 months.  A year and a half.  He isn't getting any smaller people. 

He sits at the table and eats a snack without needing a boost.  He feeds himself.  He could probably make his own lunch and put himself to bed.  Well, that may be pushing it.  But I am feeling a little sadness in knowing that he could take or leave me on most days. 

That realization makes his snuggles even better and his cries for "Mama" that much more endearing. The screaming and the rejection of food (through catapulting his spoon) is still present and not so endearing. But God gave me patience.....I think.....so I will continue to look for that quality in myself to help with the moments when I am covered in sweet potatoes -  and so is the little man. 

I love laundry.  Really, I do. 

I love how he tells me intense stories without speaking an understandable word. 

I love how he could play with Legos and trains for hours, just like his big brother. 

I love how he screams the number "SIX" when he hears anyone counting. 

I love how he tells the puppy to "SIT" with passion.  Really, it sounds the same as "six" and several other "s" words that he chooses to use.  It is still super adorable when he does that. 

I love how he loves the animals and always needs to have his hands on one of them - sort of like when he is around other small people.  I feel for the one receiving the affection. 

He is not getting any smaller, just cuter.  And faster.  And louder.  And much, much smarter...