I love this passionate phase in a young boy’s life. He is fifteen months old and bursting with energy. There are tantrums when he can’t understand why his mother won’t allow him to do, oh, dangerous things. All he knows is that he’s not getting what he wants, so he must express his displeasure. It’s so very dramatic. I love it. (To an extent. I’m a very patient person, but I have my limits.)
There’s not as much snuggling and cuddling going on these days. There are so many places to go, things to see. So this is what I see of my little adventurer, most of the time.
Sometimes he takes my slippers and shoes hostage. I find them all over the house.
My sweet little man still takes my breath away. Literally. I love that he has so many smiles in him. Even after he bashes his head into my face so hard that I see stars and fear that I may lose my front teeth long before their time. Especially when the teeth remain loose the next day, and the gums are sore and the head aches. Even more amazing, is how it didn’t faze him a bit. Not a peep, other than confusion as to why his mother was behaving so strangely, sobbing, reeling in pain, and all. Not a peep, not a scratch. How can he not be bruised or hurt with an impact of such magnitude It escapes me.
In addition to the bashed in face, I have a serious case of bedhead today. Just like my beautiful Boo. It’s so much cuter on him, though. My beautiful Boo in blue. He’s groggy this morning too, just like his mama.
