November 20th, 2009

23 months

Tomorrow my boy will be 23 months old.

His verbal abilities have exploded over the past few weeks, such that he is now saying full sentences instead of single word utterances. He now quite forcefully tells us, "I no want it!" or "More milk, please!" Today, as he walked past a pile of shaped blocks on the floor, he told me, "I see an oval." And indeed he did. He loves to sing and knows all the words to his favourite songs.

In so many important ways, he is now a little boy, and no longer a baby. I am often struck by this fact when I see him walking with someone else, or sitting quietly on his own looking through a book. I definitely notice it when I pick him up or snuggle him and I notice how long his body is, at least in comparison to my 5 feet long frame.

In other ways, he is still my baby. Last night he couldn't sleep, and the old tried and true milk wasn't of interest to him. So I pulled out the tricks I used when we had the occasional sleepless night in his infancy. He still loves listening to baby versions of classical music coupled with a funky computer visualiser. He still nuzzles into my shoulder and practically purrs when I stroke his fine blond hair. He still loves me to sing "Good Night Sweet Angel" to him and rock him back and forth. And he still loves to fall asleep lying on top of me just like he did as a wee babe.

My boy has never slept in a crib nor spent a night alone in room apart from me. I think it will be quite some time before he will. I believe that our attachment to each other has a lot to do with his independance and happiness at daycare.

Some day my boy won't be interested in any of those babyish things. Some day, he will want to sleep in his own room and have his own space. And that will be okay. But for now, I'm happy with things just the way they are.