Share this:
What a little chatterbox you’ve become! I haven’t been able to keep track of all of the new words and phrases you’ve come out with. Stand up, sit, up, now, no, down, delicioso, cookie, more, look, too, bless you, Abby, baby… and you try to sing along with the TV and radio. You can count to thirteen now. (Eh-weh-weh, tweh, tir-teen.) Your alphabet gets better and better.
You can walk up and down the stairs by yourself by holding onto the railing. You’ll even do so on command when we tell you it’s time to go upstairs. You tote your womb bear all over the place. I watched you walk to the car holding Daddy’s hand with one hand and your bear in the other. I also watched you run from Mommy and Daddy’s room across the hall into your room, bear in hand, pointing to go back in your crib one night after you had a bad dream. You love your bear so much.
You’ve started waking up more during the night again. You’ve been soaking through your diapers, so we moved you up a size, and you seem to have more bad dreams lately. It might be because your molars are coming in. You’re always sticking your fingers way back in your mouth. You actually skipped your nap today. I hope that doesn’t become a habit!
You love to draw and color. We have an Aquadoodle pad at home that you enjoy. When we’re out and about, you get upset if you don’t have crayons and paper to keep you busy.
Entertaining is one of your favorite things to do. I’m convinced you could be the next Jim Carrey, with all of the expressions you can make with your face. The way you roll your eyes, put your hands on your face, make that big toothy grin – you know you’re cute, and you use it whenever you can. It does work the other way, too. You can look absolutely pitiful when you’re sad. You were upset that we weren’t going up to visit Grandma Kitty when we picked her up to go to dinner earlier, and you let out such a cry before clapping your hands over your eyes. It was heart-wrenching.
Your hair has grown so quickly that we’re considering getting you a buzz cut instead of a normal little boy cut. But then you’ll really stop looking like a baby. You’re already into 2T shirts, my grown up guy!
That’s me: Christina Gleason. I’m a writer, editor, and disability advocate. I'm a multiply disabled autistic lady doing my best in this world built for abled people. I’m a geek for grammar, fantasy, and casual gaming. I hate vegetables. I cannot reliably speak, so I’ll happily conduct business over email or messaging instead.
