Monkey is 18 months old (and two days). A year and a half. And he is one amazing little dude, if I do say so myself.
Unlike his brother at this age, he is not obedient, shy, cautious, gentle, a complicated eater, or apparently anywhere close to weaning. Like his brother, he is observant, playful, affectionate and hilarious.
He is a daring, coordinated and stubborn little monkey, who climbs up the big kids' slides and throws himself down head first.
He is a tough and persistent torturer of his brother, able to understand all manner of complicated instructions and explanations, but not 'no hitting', 'no pinching', 'no pushing', 'no bashing your brother with that hockey stick'. But - he is good at following up with hugs and kisses and gentle strokes.
He is a darling. He waves and blows kisses with abandon. He will whisper secrets in your ear upon request. While nursing, even half asleep, he will grin or giggle when he hears his brother laugh. He sometimes pulls off my breast to grab my head, pull it towards him and give me a big kiss before settling back to nurse.
He sweats profusely, especially from his elbows and forearms, which is weird. He has my itchy and rashy skin, and my tendency to scratch and pick. Poor monkey.
As of just a few days ago, his mind and body have been taken over by an overpowering need to continually wash his hands and play with soap and toothbrushes. He seems to need it as much as he needed to practice walking: All.The.Time. As if there were a hard-wired, biological hand-washing imperative.
He also loves lids, books, whatever his brother is playing with, riding toys, balls, shoes and excitedly pointing out all the spider webs he can see from his special toddler vantage point. He takes this job very seriously.
He has advanced tantrum-throwing skills for his age. And a strong little body to match.
His language skills are in the exponentially-exploding phase. We are starting to lose track of all his new vocabulary. I will post soon on the many fascinating aspects of his language development, including his bilingualism, his love of animals and his ability to learn profanities faster than anything else.
He is a singing and dancing, groovy little guy. He loves to shout 'GOAL!' in Spanish, with both arms in the air. And he celebrates the things that give him joy with enthusiastic and contagious shouts of yay, wow and yum. He loves to beat his chest like a gorilla.
Happy half birthday, little monkey. Kazoodles of love.
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6 comments:
YAY! Such a sweet post. Love the nursing breaks for kisses. So freaking cute. Love that intensity. Sorry 'bout the hitting.
Mine swore up and down (in sign language because in all things he is a perfectionist and wouldn't talk until he could do it properly) that he would never wean. Until he did at 2 years and one week. Ditto the hitting. Just would not let it go until he spoke really well at two and a half. Then it went away over night.
Happy half birthday, Monkey! And happy every day, Mama!!
Thanks Naptime, I'll just hope that there are no serious injuries before the hitting stops, and that my resolve to let him self-wean (wearing thin, I should say) outlasts his refusal to self-wean.
Feliz Casi Cumpleanos! Loved reading your blog...I find myself nodding my head saying, "been there before", so it is nice to read that others go through the same thing!
Saludos!
I love this listing. You'll both love looking back at it in later years, I'm sure. He sounds like a complex and delightful soul.
Happy Half Bday Monkey! I love all the things you mentioned about your little Monkey, his special characteristics and what's unique about him. I always find myself suprised that my second is not identical to my first. But they are different in so many ways. My first loves art, puzzles, books. My second balls, jumping from high surfaces, and attempting to rewire our DVD player. But they both love cuddling and nursing and dancing and pestering one another. My favorite? "He is a tough and persistent torturer of his brother, able to understand all manner of complicated instructions and explanations, but not 'no hitting', 'no pinching', 'no pushing', 'no bashing your brother with that hockey stick'. But - he is good at following up with hugs and kisses and gentle strokes." This sounds exactly like my Diego at 18 months. Beautiful post!!! I adore your blog. And your writing!
Thanks everyone. I'm starting to think that this age is a tiny bit threatening to my vow not to have any more kids. But I'm not falling for it...
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