18 months: too fast

(I’m a few days late with this post.)

Dear Little Ring,

18 months, how has that happened. I swear, it’s as though I blinked and you went from a crying, sleeping, pooping lump, to this super chatty, super curious, super adventurous, walking, running, climbing, and trying to cycle little boy. And your knowledge, my goodness, is incredible. This year and a half, I have learned so much from you. Every day I learn from you.

I’ve learned that we don’t need to know all the words in the world, we don’t even need to know how to read in order to find love and laughter in the world of books. That day YOU read the Gitchy Gitchy Goo book at the edge of your room, no idea that I was watching from afar, tickling yourself at all the right pages, and getting super excited with giggles at all the right moments, that, my boy, is hands down my most favourite experience with books – ever!

Being a lover of words, I’ve always enjoyed speaking, but until you, I don’t think I properly knew the true joy of words – real or not. When you tell me to “Sit! Sit! Sit!” with a big smile on your face as I approach with your beloved “Goo!” (see below); or when you grab your “Doo!” and run to the “Doo!” and say “Out! Out! Out!”; or when you wrap your arms tight around my neck, bang your head onto my shoulder or into my chest and drawl out an “Aww!” – LOVE!

And kid, you’ve awakened me to the inefficiencies of our language too with your brilliant one word for a multitude of meanings speaking strategy:

• “Doo!” = Spoon. Door. Shoes. Bib. Book.
• “Goo!” = Yogurt. Coat.
• “Gawr!” = Scarf. Lion’s roar.
• “Yaya!” = Blanket. Daycare lady.

“Zzzth!” = Biscuit. Cracker. Pretty much anything in the pantry.

I’ve learned that I don’t need to be a champion cook, heck, I don’t really even need to be a good one to make your belly happy. I don’t need cookbooks, I don’t need structured recipes, I don’t need fancy ingredients – just a mixture of your favourites, no matter how odd it may seem to mix some of them together, and you’ll hoover it up as though it were Gordon Ramsey with the apron on.

I’ve learned on the road from you too, seeing the thrills on your face and in your feet, literally bouncing with excitement the moment you’re set free. You run with your eyes wide and your smile glued. You run with your arms waving and your feet motoring. You run with purpose. You run with meaning. You run until you can’t run anymore. All the while laughing, giggling, shrieking with glee.

Every day my heart grows with yours. Every. Day.

“If growing up means it would be beneath my dignity to climb a tree, ?I won’t grow up, never grow up, never grow up, not me. ”
~ Peter Pan