17 Months

7/7/09 (I found these notes on a brown paper lunch bag and figured I should blog them the day before you turn 18 months. Better late than never.)

Dear Isaac,

You're 17 months old. You're as sweet as can be - when you want to be. You're a little ornery otherwise. Sometimes in the evenings you're pretty whiney, but I know it's b/c you're tired. You are not only a picky eater, you're a picky sleeper! You pick the location, time, length, and even IF you'll sleep. You drag me up to my own bed and want me to lay myself down next to you. I did wean you off a bottle 2 weeks ago. We had gone to a baptism and I was embarassed that you found the bottle I had for you for the ride home. You dangled that ugly thing from your mouth while you walked all over my lap smiling at the couple behind us. I tried taking it from you, only to be reminded of how spoiled you are. You knew that I wanted silence more than the bottle.

You had started taking a sippy cup of milk from me and I thought we had moved forward. Well now, you want to nurse when you drag me up to my bed. You're being selective with taking the milk in a sippy cup again. You have been sleeping for longer periods of time and let me get up with out freaking out if you're really tired, so that's good! I'm cutting you off at 18 months. Maybe your pediatrician is right - that if we're not moving forward, we're moving backward.

You are a good sharer. You'll take things sometimes just so you can give them back I think though. It's sweet when you say "eeow" for "here" when you extend the object back to me or Dylan.

When I ask who wants a snack (or something), you say "I do" in a blended sorta way.

You've slept through the night since Dylan moved to his Transformer bed.

You say "boo boo" for any scratch, mosquito bite, or dried food stuck to you. You get so upset if I don't drop everything to give it a kissy. You're so dramatic!

Speaking of dramatic, you call out "MAAAA" for "mess." You point out messes, often made by you. I used to think you were calling for me saying "mom," but nope - you're calling me to clean.

If you're tired, you get offended and will burry your little head anywhere you can.

When you sleep, you like to scoot 'til your head is secure against your bed, or me - then that little head of yours sweats.

You go easily into time out.