No? Ok. I'm serious though. Aside from the small weak arms, you are a little baby T-Rex. You destroy most everything in your path. You let everyone within 100 feet of you know when you are displeased with something. It is incredibly, painfully obvious that you gain strength by the day. It was humorous when you started to stand up in the middle of the room, unassisted, not holding onto anything. You'd stand there for maybe 5 seconds and then drop. But you didn't just stand there... you stood there, laughing maniacally. As in, like a MANIAC.
You have many nicknames around here. We regularly call you The Baby Beast.. when Andrew and I are playing (or ok fine, I'm resting my eyes while he's kicking ass and taking names at Angry Birds on his iPad..) and we hear you waking up on the baby monitor, him or I always say 'sounds like the Beast is waking!'.. We call you little stinker quite often, because you are. And toot. SUUCH a toot. And lately, there's been a lot of 'Danger-Baby' being referenced. Of course there's 'Baby-Saurus' being tossed around all day.. that's just a given. Are you getting my subtle hints to your very specific and very unlike your brother personality? Are you, DANGER BABY?? On days that you exhaust me, and there are many, I try to laugh about it. I try to say 'hey thanks! you make me a more well-rounded parent! you are so very thoughtful!' Yes, you are thoughtful every day.
I shouldn't forget to mention to 'Smigel' though.. a reference to a bear-walk you use when you REALLY want to get somewhere quick, and walking would be too risky and crawling too slow. You become all-limbs, and well, you remind your father and I of a cave-dwelling Lord of The Rings character. You get it honest in this fam.
Your brother is getting way more confident with how rough he can be around you - pouncing on you sometimes, and trying to get you to roll with him across the room. I supervise as best I can, because I don't think you're quite old enough for me to NOT supervise any kind of rough play.. but I also try really hard to just let the chips land where they may. You really take the roughness like a champ, something I know for a fact that he wouldn't have at the same age. No one was around to rough him up, and he was our tender delicate firstborn, so if he bumped a dimply knee on the coffee table, there were tears a plenty. You? You (regularly) fall off things that aren't meant to be fallen off of. face-first, usually upon a puzzle piece or Lego. And you fail to bat an eye. It does concern me how you feel such little pain.. but I try to reason with myself that this is likely just a second-born trait. Your survival skills have simply been tested much earlier in life!
You have fully entered the very frustrating very tiring 12-18 month tantrum-y phase of things.. being VERY insistent with any given demand, and putting a string on unintelligible syllables together to tell me said demand, and when I choose to not let you play with the butcher's knife you're demanding, you flail. You hit. You scream. You basically lose your everloving 14 month old shits all over the place. Sometimes.. I will admit, I laugh. I don't ever let you see me laugh, I turn my back, but it's just funny. This little indignant person going ballistic over the craziest things. And I do realize that sentence can be applied at any age up to and including 4.
And even though most of the time I ignore the bulk of your acting-out, for you are 14 months old and saying your first-middle name combo really is a waste of breath, sometimes I do say 'Avery!' in a shocked exasperated tone. And you CRY. SO HARD. And I think it might be the cutest thing in the entire universe, and I love it, and I do not feel bad about it because I get to comfort you and siiiiiiigh... greatness.
Speaking of unintelligible syllables, you also own some words. Of course there's Dada. Your ultimate favorite. He who does NOT wipe your bum 5 days a week, nor shake the endless sticky food-debris from your person thrice daily.. but is still pretty awesome, so we'll let it slide. You scream Dada at every opportunity, and bellow it when you see him. And when he points at me and asks 'who's that?'.. you humble me with an indifferent blank stare, and looking somewhere randomly to my left.. as if, No, I do not know this selfless saint of a person who ensures my daily survival.. Next question, I'm hungry! You'll say Mama if we show you Elmo though. So, ok. You say Bu-bu for Brother, which lately has been honed with a little bit of a Bru-bu... which, cute! Up until last week you'd scream Momomomomomo for Water (why I do not know).. but it's morphed into Yayayaya. Maybe it'll be Wawawa next week, which would force me to finally recognize your genius. There's Bird (Ba!) Ball (Ba!) Dog (Da!) Cat (Ca!) Car (Ca!) Grandpa (Caca!) Cracker (Caca!) Mum-Mum (Mumu!!) Puzzle (Pu-pu!) Book (Boo!) Fa! (Flower or Fan!) Belly (Ba!) You can point to your belly.. which is pretty much the cutest thing ever. I'll ask you where your belly is, and your head will whip downwards, your huge big cheeks becoming even more huge, and you have this look of 'it's down here somewheres..' You grab your hair when I ask you where it is. You stick your fingers in your mouth when I ask you where your mouth is. You slowly locate your feet when I ask you where they are. You grab and inspect your long little fingers when I ask you where they are. You sometimes get your nose. You give dainty precocious high-fives. You do 3-piece puzzles. Sometimes when you're having issues with a particular piece, you'll take another piece out, and try to slam that problem piece in that spot.. you are a problem-solver! Even if it's on a completely wrong crazy path, you make the effort, which I love. You think it's the greatest thing to simply hand me something, because I emphatically say Thank Yooooou! So you'll find something small, a random toy or something, bring it to me, and then look up at me with this sweet expression, waiting for me to thank you for giving it to me. CUTE. And oh my WORD, how you dance. You got this trait from my mother.. no doubt. I recently said that out loud, in front of your Grandma, how you inherited your dance moves from your other Grandma, and she corrected me saying that she can dance, too.. but, NO. Just, hands down a thousand times NO. I want you to feel connected to my mother when you dance, because that's what she did. Every day, at every opportunity, she danced. Humiliating us girls in later years, but thrilling us in early ones. I remember having afternoon dance parties (Michael Jackson comes to mind) around Kindergarten age.. It's what I remember most vividly about her, and what I adore most about you. Your arms start flailing wildly, you turn your waist to the beat, you bop your head and I am just made the happiest mother in town.
I'm sorry this post is so belated, but you do so much.. I can't keep up anymore!
You challenge us and delight us and we love you so so so much.