Here is our boy at 18 months.  On September 19th, he turned 18 months.  I look around at the new crop of babies and think back to the beginning of the school year last year.  He was five going on six months old.  At Grandpa’s funeral, Bradley got up to speak and Jude also stood at attention on my lap.  When he spied his daddy, even then, he hollered at him and sang along with the song that his daddy was singing.  He was active and alert, clapping, cooing, and observant of every little thing that was happening around him.    He is no longer a passive rider in this life, he has hopped on and taken the helm.  He is now an active participant in his life, molding and shaping his days.

I look at them, knowingly, all of those new babies, knowing what their future holds.  Lots of loves, kisses and hugs for sure, but also a lot of misunderstanding from people who have not spent a lot of time around little busy bodies in a while.  I want to warn them of the future looks of disapproval they will receive when their child runs away from them, when the comments come regarding the amount of noise their child can make, when they sigh as your child squirms and wiggles endlessly.  As though there is any way to control THAT kind of energy that wouldn’t also wound the child’s spirit.

Yeah,I know he’s noisy, loud, defiant at times and a non-stop motion machine.  But he is also clever, quick, brilliant and full of love.  He is a problem solver, that’s how he knows how to push a chair or box over to the counter to see what’s happening up there, that’s why he takes the keys and tries to unlock cabinets with them, that’s why he pushes on doors and pulls handles.  It’s what babies do.  He loves to explore new things by picking them up, touching them, perhaps dropping them.   He likes to explore the relationship between cause and effect: “Everytime I touch something you say NO.  Hmmm, interesting, let’s try that some more!  I act like I’m going to hit and you react!  How exciting!”  He is learning about his world in the most natural way there is: experimentation.

I’ve learned that the best way to reach this child is to play with him.  To toss him in the air, catch him, then roll on the bed for a full body tickle.  I’ve learned that he loves to be chased, just for the joy of running.  He loves to feel me lift his shirt and blow on his belly, giving him a Zerbert.  Then after I have tossed, rolled, tickled and chased, he allows me to scoop him into my arms and kiss his neck.  He lays there for one brief moment as his blonde curls tickle my nose.  I breathe him in, release him and he is off again.  Do I chase?  Of course I do.

He is 18 months, a year and a half, a handful and a half and I wouldn’t have him any other way.  This is such a small moment in time, a short time of pureness in him.  How can I not embrace it?

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