Eighteen Months!

Julia turned eighteen months a couple of weeks ago. That's right...eighteen months! How did we get here? If anyone tries to call Julia a baby these days, Will quickly corrects them and says, "No, she's a toddler!" And, he's right! She is in full-force toddler mode. She knows what she wants, but can't express it. Or, she doesn't know what she wants, and this makes her mad. And, her teeth are STILL working to come in. All of these combine to create a force of nature; I think she must be very advanced, as she seems to be hitting the "terrible twos" a bit early! For example, on Sunday afternoon when she was supposed to be napping, Julia was screaming her head off instead. And when no one came to her rescue quickly enough, she took off her pants and her (dirty) diaper, and threw them both on the floor. Luckily, it was easily cleaned up, she went to sleep after that incident, and Will thought it was the best story ever.

In general, she just has this look about her that lets you know she's trouble. She still throws her food and is very particular about what she will and won't eat. She's learned how to say "no" to accompany the vigorous head shaking--as if that wasn't clear enough. On certain occasions, if she doesn't like what you've picked out for her to wear, she will actually try to take it off (all while screaming "no, no, no!"), while you're trying to force it over her head. I thought we had a bit more time before she had an opinion on what to wear! She's also still in a bit of a hitting phase, although it seems that she often hits in order to be able to offer a hug afterwards. We've tried to explain that the hitting isn't a prerequisite, but she insists. When we put her in time out, she just gets up. If we speak sharply to her, she burst into tears, as if we have just slapped her across the face. In short, she's got us wrapped around her finger--and SHE KNOWS IT.

But, just as she offers some of our greatest frustrations right now, she also offers some of our greatest joys. Like when I pick her up to give her a hug, and she rubs or pats my back. Like the way she blows kisses, or wants to give each person in the family a kiss--on the arm, of all places. Or how she knows which books she likes, and requests "Moon" each night. And the way she's starting learning some of her friends' names from school--and will "tell" us about them when she gets home. The little smile that lights up a room. The big personality in an eighteen-month body. She is so precious--frustrations and all. As much as I lament this stage, I will be sad when it is over. When she's too busy for me to hold her. When she no longer requests to "rock" each night. Many days it's hard to savor each moment, but I'm doing my best. I know they'll be gone too fast.

Super hero of all things pink