Dear Oscar,
Eighteen months came on the day of our neighbors' annual pumpkin picking event, same as six months did
last year.
You are getting bigger and bigger, and our friends who haven't seen you in awhile are surprised about what a full-on little boy you are.
What you do:
Run
Follow your sister everywhere
Snuggle
Tackle-snuggle
Throw balls and chase them
Kick balls and chase them
Try to volley balls with a miniature lacrosse stick
Climb up on the bed and ask to be tickled
Corner us with sticks and say "Roar!"
What you say:
Mama
Roar
Other people variously claim to have heard you say
Nana and
up; I have at times thought I heard something resembling
more and
milk, but nothing I would stake any money on.
What you sign:
Milk
More
Fan
Banana
All done
What you love to eat:
Bananas
Spaghetti
Strawberries
Frozen raspberries
Frozen peaches
Apples
Smoothies
Sunbutter honey sandwiches
Feta cheese
Tacos
When you go out walking with your dad, people can't stop talking about how much you look alike ("the same hair!" "the same smile!") and he comes back from wherever you were completely glowing.
When you snuggle on my lap, you point to a spot on my forehead where you and I bonked heads about a month ago, and you push my hair aside, and point to my forehead again, then you put your cheek against that spot and give me a very sweet hug.
I love you, little Ox.
Love,
Mama