Train potty

Eighteen Months

Well, well, well. One and a half years old, huh? Truman is officially not a baby anymore you guys, and this milestone really seems to make the whole 'toddler' concept set in stone. Back when Truman was just a few months old, I remember trying to imagine what life would be like with a toddler. I think I must have pictured myself literally running from room to room, chasing after him as he tried to get away from me and test the limits. And honestly? My prediction was dead-on as I find myself somewhat out of breath at times as I sprint around the house to perform tickle torture on mister man, just to hear his amazing giggles. And so now I'll throw in my standard statement I say every month: "This is my favorite age yet!"



The crown jewel in this post is going to be this, my friends: we have successfully gotten rid of the freaking pacifier this month! Can I get an 'Amen'? I realize that it wasn't that much of a crime since he only took it for naps and bedtime (and still, I don't get how he even became addicted to the darn thing since he never liked it until he was a year old!), but MAN it feels good to conquer that beast of a paci. It was seriously messing with my head cause I was all, 'We HAVE to get rid of that thing sometime and it's going to suck so bad I can taste it,' and Nate was all, 'Yeah, but why rush it? Let's just wait a while longer.' I mean, anytime you mess with a sleeping routine you are playing with fire, right? So you want to know what worked for us as we trampled the hell out of that drug named 'Ni-Ni'? Truman got sick and sucking the paci hurt his mouth, so he wouldn't take it. More on this sickness later, but we had to act fast and be smart here---although he didn't want the beloved pacifier for a few nights, he certainly came to his senses after that and downright demanded it when he was well. But me and my hubs? We remained calm and tough and didn't give in. And now all of the pacifiers are magically gone and packed away and I could not be happier to say goodbye.




So yeah, The Sickness That Nearly Caused Mommy To Crack was awful. In laymens terms, it was Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease and I've decided that virus must have been created by the devil himself. It started with a little fever, then I noticed a few teeny red dots on Truman's feet. We found out Truman's daycare buddy, Henry, had the same symptoms at the same time and the poor boys were the only ones at daycare to get it. No sleep (woke every hour, for reals, and refused to nap), couldn't eat because his mouth sores must have hurt so bad, and wore his cranky pants for about 4 days straight. I couldn't go to work and we had to bail out on a trip to Missouri because Truman was still contagious and we were not pleasant people to encounter anyway. When the sores went away we all literally felt the sun shining on us again and agreed that HFM was the worst virus we've ever encountered and we pray it never touches us again. I'm not trying to be overly dramatic because I realize there are much worse illnesses out there and I'm grateful Truman is almost always healthy and recovered quickly. If anything, our little week-long sick-ville made us appreciate 'normal' days and I cannot imagine having a chronically ill child.

(the first day of the spots---they got a lot worse than this, and sorry if this makes you squeamish. I had to provide visual evidence of the hell, though)



In July his favorite activities revolved around garden gnomes and India Aire, but in August? No way, dude. Every phase lasts about a week and then he's onto something else, but with the same intense obsession as before. For instance, every.single.morning Truman wakes up yelling for me and begins his quest for the trifecta. When I enter his room he immediately starts signing for 'milk' and whining. Once he gets his milk, he says 'bowl' requesting a bowl of dry cereal (preferably Kix). After those two things are secured he says, 'Melmo' meaning it's time to wake up to our favorite red, furry puppet! He'll sit in his orange big boy chair and watches some of the Elmo's World DVDs we finally bought for him, while sipping milk and munching on cereal. It's pretty cute but incredibly redundant, if you ask me. His attention span is definitely better when it comes to TV watching but it's not like he'll just sit still and watch a full DVD all at once---he has to break free and run around a bunch, too. But finally starting a DVD collection (almost all Elmo, of course) was a good decision on our parts and I have a feeling we'll need to start limiting the TV time soon.

(hey, ladies. Wanna ride?)




Other obsessions include: throwing things just for fun (usually toys, rocks, sand, and balls) and even pretending to throw imaginary balls; discussing the whereabouts of each and every family member (T: Dada? Me: Daddy's at work. T: YaYa? Me: Grandma's at work. Etc, etc, etc); sidewalk chalk; swinging a golf club at a volleyball (Nate's proudest moment); and working trucks. There is some construction going on in our neighborhood and we frequently walk down to watch the trucks do their thang for literally an hour at a time, sometimes. I sort of feel like a creepy mom, just standing there staring at the men working while my son stares with big eyes and finger pointed, but the boy is obsessive. He still loves his BOB stroller and enjoys long runs with mama and Henry dog. He still loves all strangers and will flirt with anyone within a 5 foot radius. And his most favorite thing on the planet has to be ice cream. Can you blame the boy?






(and TRUCKS! Firetruck, to be exact)


It's amazes me to watch Truman process the world around him. He understands so much that it sort of frightens me at times. One time Nate asked T if he was 'ready to roll', because we were getting ready to leave the house. Now, anytime Truman wants to go somewhere or thinks we might be leaving for an errand he'll say, 'roll, roll, roll'. I mean, seriously? He'll see me getting my running clothes on and he'll say, 'Bob-a' for the stroller, and he'll go dig through my closet to find my running shoes for me. Amazing. He saw us trying to kill a few mosquitos down in Florida and now he'll go outside and pretend to hunt them down, clapping his hands together dramatically as if to smash a skeeter that isn't really there. Yeah, imaginary play is coming back from a few months ago and it just cracks me up every time. His language is still improving and I think he's tacked on another 10 words this month to make the total about 35 or so. So basically, this child is growing up into a little boy and has left his baby days in the dust. Sob.

(goof ball)


(so intense on vacation, all about throwing sand)


He is still wearing mostly all 24 month or 2T clothes and I think he might be tall for his age. A lot of strangers ask us if Truman is 2 or 2.5 years old and that always shocks me a little to hear them guess he's much older. Because in some ways, the last 18 months have flown by in a blink of an eye but yet it seems like a different lifetime when we didn't have Truman in our world. So I'm doing my best to stop, soak in the moment, and really enjoy my big one-and-a-half-year-old boy right now. And there is a lot to enjoy!

(summertime fun with our buddy Henry!)




(and with his buddy, Charlotte)


(just hangin with dad)


(and swingin with mom)


(showing off his sidewalk chalk artistry on his best friend, Henry dog)


What a summer we've had! And notice that most of my pictures are from my iPhone now---easier to catch a toddler in action that way.