Today, my little baby is 18 months old. My darling ray of sunshine, my beautiful, happy, smiley baby boy is 18 months old. This is extremely bittersweet to me, because I consider 18 months the end of being a 'baby'. After 18 months, I start to think of babies as toddlers, and really, I am just not ready for my 'baby' to be a toddler yet!
Every day, he grows right in front of my eyes - the way he runs, the way he climbs, the amount of food he eats, the way he laughs and chases his brother around the neighbourhood, and the way he likes to play little tricks on me... the way he dances in the car to The Wheels On The Bus, the way he asks for 'cheeezzzz', the way he says 'wawa' for water, and the way he says 'no' - all these things make me painfully aware that he is growing up, and quickly. He loves swinging at the park, laughing hysterically as I push him higher and higher... playing in the sand, dancing to music, using his brother's tool box, and getting wet. He loves to garden with his brother, and he loves to blow kisses. He laughs all day long.
He's the happiest baby you will ever meet. He is so social, it is almost embarrassing for me, as I tend to be more reserved. He will talk to anyone! Hello, world! He loves life, and even though he is also prone to getting hurt several times a day - those tears don't last long at all. He is already showing major signs of independence - he wants to be left alone in the sink to play, so he pushes me away. Of course, I don't leave him alone. He's still my baby, after all, and I'm there for him, to protect him, to love him, to shower him in millions of kisses, to laugh with him, and to play with him.
He is the best thing to wake up to every single morning. Because of my Dimitry, and because of my Christos, mornings are good.
Happy 18 months, my darling Dimitry... you make me and everyone so happy, and you are pure joy to be around. I love you more than anything! You are so beautiful. And I can't get enough of you!