Sixteen months! Here we are! With a vengeance! Lord Dominic needs to be in control of his own destiny. He needs to control his eating, for one. He decided that he was done nursing in the last month. Just done. He would arch his back and complain and scratch and just be generally unpleasant. He has to carry a snack cup everywhere he goes, leaving sticky fingerprints on all he touches. The main surprising factor about this little one is his love for reading. He will sit content for longer than any of my other children listening to story after story, pointing things out as you read. Books are normally the first toys he pulls out in the playroom each morning. What does this all mean, do you think???
He is a pretty good eater, which is different for us. He still won't drink milk even if I put a few drops of chocolate in there. He really loves pancakes, bananas, applesauce, yogurt, turkey melts, sharp cheddar cheese, pizza, all sorts of pasta, meatballs, sausage, Chinese. All the Chinese. Particularly their carrots and broccoli. Which I mean, VEGETABLES! I'll take this one as a big plus!!
He takes two naps a day, albeit short ones. He sometimes cries it out for anywhere from 5 minutes to 45 minutes depending on his level of friskiness. He goes to bed around 7:30 after a story and stays asleep until anywhere from 6 to 7 am. He sleeps with his round rabbit, his glow seahorse and his Mickey pillow. Just never on the pillow. At the opposite end, naturally. Closest to the door.
He climbs. He climbs anything and everything. Couches. Chairs. Ottomans. Footstools. Stairs. Tables. It's heart stopping and frustrating and he constantly bumps his head. Clunk. Yet never learns his lesson. Cut your lip falling on a table? Well, why don't you climb that sucker again tomorrow and hope for a different outcome. Standing on daddy's swivel office chair? Why yes and while we are at it let's nose dive off it into the newly harder floors. This orange tower thing? Pull that right down on top of me please and thank you! Don't worry. It's super light and the bin on the top is empty. I'm working on a solution for that stat. I've also gone and secured all the blind cords in my house because sure enough, this kid will be the one to play with them.
I would love to say that he is a joy and a pleasure... but he is not so pleasant to be around. Most of the time. His main loves other than self-feeding and climbing are: complaining, squealing like a pig, throwing himself down on his back and kicking his feet so that he moves across the floor like a caterpillar (all while yelling), smacking people, taking whatever toy his siblings decide to play with, destroying whatever was just cleaned up in the playroom, throwing chairs, fits of rage, impatience, and so on and so forth. His pediatrician told me last month that it sounds like he thinks in his mind that he is a two and a half year old but when he goes to express himself he discovers he has the vocabulary of a sixteen month old. Which in turn causes the already irritable soul to lose his damn mind. He reminds me of The Hulk. A ticking time bomb that we just don't know when will explode. I know it is a phase. Oh yes, how I do. Someday I will look back on this time and think ahhh what a fond distant memory. But for now? Buckle up folks and prepare your ears to be assailed.
And then on a rare rare moment, the little one will reach his arms up to me and then wrap them around my neck in the tightest of hugs, laying his head on my chest... and I think... okay pig, you aren't all bad. Not so bad at all.
Dominic at one year. eleven months. ten months. nine months. eight months. seven months. six months. five months. four months. three months. two months. one month. birth.
