Wednesday, September 3, 2008

My baby

is turning into a big boy.

Sniff.

It is happening so quickly. He is 17 months old but he seemed like an infant for so much longer - maybe because he was a preemie. But just in the past month, he got his toddler license.

Sniff.

Suddenly, he seeks his freedom



And discovered the cathartic healing of a temper tantrum


But the main achievement is that, finally, finally:




we have a walker.

(With a little W, walker. We already had a Walker. Now we have a walker. Not to be confused with a Walker. Even though, our walker is Walker's spitting image. And Walker is a walker of course. Just a bigger walker. Is our Walker. The walker.)

So, we have given him the same talk that we gave all the others when they hit this age.

Big W sat him down and said, "Son, your mother and I will not enable you to be co-dependent anymore. You need to learn some responsibility. From now on, you must earn your keep."

He saw our point and got straight to work.



But, big walking sweeping vacuuming boy that he is, he still is not too big to put his head on his Mom-mom's shoulder, pull me close and hold me tight several times a day.


And Mom-mom hopes he never is.

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