We're almost past the 1 and a half year mark. Tomorrow Charlie will be 19 months old. Over the hill, on his way to 2. Two is a big milestone. I know he's technically a toddler now but in my eyes, my heart, he's my baby.
Charlie is so full of light and life. He walks through the house saying "hi" to us. And "bye" when appropriate.
He has learned how to pet Cook nicely, instead of beating the crap out of her. Marina showed us how to grab Charlie's wrist and purr "suave". That seems to slow his roll.
He's up to about 15 words. Doggie, eat, down, up, 'night-night', the usual.
Charlie responds to me asking him to "please shut that drawer" and "thank you for bringing that to me". He smiles and giggles and runs away looking for the next task to please. Or the next thing to get in trouble. It's always one or the other.
Chazzy runs hot or cold. He's happy, smiling, lovey. Or he's tired, grumpy, morose. It is what it is, he is who he is.
He is perfectly, imperfectly, us.