The Fidg at 16 months

Mom's a little late on this one.

You're 16 months old now.  We just celebrated your second 4th of July in East Sac style, just the way mom likes it.  You had fun. Eventually. Here you are crying on your stroller. I'm still not sure why and though it was wrong of us, we laughed a bit at your expense and took you picture.  Twice.  To be fair, we didn't realize you were crying initially. But you were.  I think you were tired and hot and overwhelmed. Maybe teething, too, that's usually a safe bet.

Poor little Fidget.

Lately, you've become quite the mimic. You feed your toys and brush your teeth and are just starting to follow along to "head, shoulders, knees and toes."  Watching your development remains lots of fun.  Cat is still your favorite and most frequent word, but there are others. "Fan" is a biggie.  At a recent Twilight Thursday at the Zoo, we went to see the giraffes. A keeper was there and feeding them leaves and they were SO close! So we ran up the platform ramp and I set you down. You went tearing off toward the other side of the platform, away from the giraffes. You pointed up and said "Fan! Fan! Fan!" at the ceiling fans swirling above. Atta girl.

You might say mama now and you might mean it, but I'm not totally convinced.

Last night, I was nursing you to sleep and you did something new. You didn't seem to want to sleep (not necessarily the new part). You rolled around the bed for a bit, eventually settling by my feet with your face half mashed under the pushed back covers.  You mooched around on your side, flopped your arm across the comforter, and went to sleep. Just like that. I had no idea what to do with you. So I picked you up, causing some more squirming, and deposited you in  your bed. You opened your eyes and I thought we'd surely be starting the whole process over again, but no, you just went back to sleep.

I emerged from your room to find your father scrutinizing the label on a baby tylenol bottle from which we had just dosed you for teething pain by the light of his iPhone.  It's fine, I assured him, you're just sleeping, it shouldn't be something we find so strange.  But we worry - we do. It's our thing.

You were fine, obviously. Though you did nap again today, in your crib, which is crazy. If this becomes a thing, that's fine. My theory is that you heard the neighbor talking about Ferber last night and decided that, to avoid that fate, you'd better just get with the program on your own.

Or maybe you're weaning, which I had earlier be complaining about needing to happen anyway. And if you are, of course, I had an immediate pang of guilt - was I rushing you? Unlikely you understood, though.  Basic commands, okay, but past that, not so sure. Hope not, in fact.

You're growing, though, no doubt about that. More inches and pounds, more teeth.  More words, more skills. More fear and more joy for mommy and daddy.  And more stress. Just different.