Fred turned 14 months last week and I’m convinced that this may be the perfect age. If I could somehow freeze him in time and stop the aging process, 14 months would be as far as I would let him get. Forget his first date, getting his driver’s license, marriage…that’s all wrapped around a bunch of fear and anxiety. I like him just fine the way he is now.
All he wants to do is play. He rarely cries. He sleeps most of the night. Everything is new. Dinner is nothing but chicken nuggets, corn, and pizza. Barney is King and his favorite new game is pulling toys out and putting them back up.
Best of all are all the signs of affection. Bear hugs, high fives, baby kisses…last week he said to Lucy just before he got in the car going to the Hill “I Rub You!!” This week he started blowing her kisses every morning. Forget teenage rebellion and the sex talk, I’d be perfectly fine reading “5 Little Lady Bugs” and “I Am A Puppy” the rest of my life.
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