My kid will be 18 months old tomorrow. Halfway between his first birthday and second birthday. Which kind of blows my mind, because I feel like I freakin’ just did the whole party hoopla.
In some ways, I think the past six months have been the hardest so far. He became a full-blown walker. So now when we’re out in public and he wants to walk, he is going to walk, and that’s the end of the discussion as far as he is concerned. He has an opinion on just about everything and usually his opinion is something like “I only want cookies for dinner” or “I really want to get my hands on that big mug of hot coffee” or “I want you to figure out a way to get me home that does not involve the car seat.“
But he’s also become immeasurably fun. He plays catch and he dances on command and he laughs after he burps. Mickey Mouse Clubhouse enthralls him. He throws his shoes into his clothes hamper the second I turn my back. He likes to help, with everything. He is passive, but he’s starting to stick up for himself. He is cautious, but he’s tough.