18 Months and Thriving

It's been a busy week of doctor appointments--we've seen the eye doctor, the pediatrician, and the orthopedist. To sum it all up, I'll use what our pediatrician said as she watched our son run circles around the exam room:

"He's just awesome, you guys."

I have to say I agree with her. As usual, he's in the highest percentile for weight and height, standing around 33 inches and weighing over 33 pounds (no wonder my arms ache at the end of each day!). He's meeting all his milestones, and blowing most of them out of the water. His vision is perfect, and his injured leg has been officially cleared by a pediatric orthopedist. To celebrate being done with a week of appointments and having full use of his limbs again, I took Little Man to the playground for the first time since early December and let him loose.

As I watched him climb up the tallest equipment with a gleeful expression on his face ("I'm free! I'm finally free!") I realized my baby boy is no longer a baby--he's a full-fledged toddler with very little fear and a whole lot of spunk. And then I was jolted out of my reverie by said Toddler, who was preparing to launch himself down the slide meant for elementary school kids.

"Wait for Mommy!" I yelled as I dodged other kids, trying to get to him before he flew down the slide to what I was sure would be another broken leg.

To his credit, he waited for me. But when I got there, he swatted my hand away.

"Mama," he said. "Mama, me!" And so I let him slide, catching a bundle of giggles at the bottom in my arms. He tolerated my hugs for a moment, then began ascending to the top again: "Up! Up-pah!"

I let him play until he was worn out, then watched him march back to the car where he let me buckle him into his car seat and give him his sippie cup.

At home I watch him zoom his trains around the track of his beloved train table, watch him race his match box cars around the floor, watch him have quiet time with his books in the corner of his bedroom. I watch him go through his routines, know he understands me when I talk to him and give him directions, and watch him figure out problems and things that puzzle him without my help.

At one and a half years old, Little Man isn't just good. He's thriving.