It’s been three months since I’ve done one of these posts and in that time it feels like Isaac has officially made his transition from baby-hood to toddler-hood. Three months ago his vocabulary consisted of just “mo? mo? mo?” (more, more, more) and “UH-OHHHHH!”, but now it’s “Dada” and “cah!” (car) and “bah-bah?” (bottle) and “buh-buh!” (bubbles) and “nana” (banana) and the sweetest exclamation of “Mama!” when I walk in the door in the evening.
And my personal favorite, “JUUUUUUU-YEH!” (that boy loves his sister).
Oh, and “cheeeeeese!” (cheers), said with much gusto when he has a sippy cup at hand.
He’s on the move all the time, sprinting down the hallway, running circles around the kitchen and living room, and then begging to go outside, desperate for extra room to roam. He’ll perch at the window for a moment…
…start jiggling the front door handle…
…and then grab his shoes, thinking these are the golden ticket to a backyard play pass.
Sometimes he brings me his boots before his pants. It’s a good look, actually.
We take a lot of short walks and he’s just so happy to be outdoors, where there are a hundred different things for him to get into. Typically eighty of those things are off-limits, like strangers’ front doors and gutter grates, so we do a lot of redirecting.
I’ve started taking Isaac on Saturday morning stroller walks down to the water and while it takes a lot of snacks and warm milk to keep him strapped in for an hour, he does seem to love the view.
Current favorite toys are this tambourine, which he bangs so hard my head rattles.
And CARS. Some friends gave us a bag full of Hotwheels that their son had finished with and we spend a lot of hours zooming them across the coffee table.
He’s getting more into books, though he still rarely has the patience to sit in my lap and let me read something cover to cover. He much prefers to flip pages at his own warp speed.
We’ve dabbled with art projects, mostly with crayons, but I pulled out the paints on what felt like a particularly long Sunday afternoon.
Bathtime follows painting time.
Isaac can be a little grumpy, like all one year olds, and has hurt Juliette’s feelings on more than one occasion when she leans in for a hug and he pushes her away with a huffy NNNNNNNNNNO! But he’s also starting to show the first signs of empathy and will trail after her if she leaves the room in tears, patting her head with his chubby little hand in an effort to right his wrong. It usually works.
He’s a rascal, but he’s also irresistibly forgivable.
On that note, Isaac, I forgive you for the way you insist on clutching my hand as you drift off to sleep. It’s not convenient, per se, but I sure do love the warmth of your hand in mine, the sight of your eyelids fluttering closed after a full day of play. You are running, talking, growing, changing all too fast and I’m hanging on for dear life.
