on this day. this is who you are.

you.

 you are my heart little finners.
it amazes me and gets away from me ... obviously (i'm a bit late on this post) ... how old you are getting.  you. are. my. baby.  you are supposed to stay that way forever and ever and a day ... and you aren't. 
you are.
but you aren't.

and it kills me just a little bit on the inside because i can't stop time.  i can't make you stop and stay where you are and then i feel guilty for wishing that i could. 

what i can do, though?
is ...  i can write.
i can hold this exact moment on our page of history and i can tell everyone who you are ... but i can also flip back to this moment someday down the road when you are really big and grown and you ask me for the car keys and you know how to actually put them into the ignition and then you know how to start the car and then you drive away.

on that day ... i will pull this memory out and i will sob and remember who you were.

this?  is who you are ... today.
you are 1 1/2 years old ... and then some.
you have twinkles of trouble in your bright blue eyes.
you love your family.
lots.

your sisters are your lifelines.  without them you would crumble.  you want to be with them always.
you are a mama's boy. 
i'm not sure if that has to do with the fact that you still nurse.  um.  all the time.  and you have just begun to slide yourself off my lap saying all done ... and run off to join the girly-girls.
you are a daddy's boy.
you are enamored with anything and everything that he is doing.  you want to be a part of all of it.
and oh-my-god ... he pushes you too high on the swings. 
but you never want mama to push you.
hmmm.

you climb.
anything.
boxes and beds.  stairs and ladders. 
and you're fast.  super fast.

you love to put on everyone's shoes.  pink.  slippers.  ANYTHING.  and you trot around in them as best you can.

you color.  you always start on paper ... and then move to the table. and then chair.  and then hopefully i catch you before you make it to the walls.  or floor. 
you are also amazingly specific about what you are drawing.  what looks like scribbles across a page to me ... is a dog.  or a kitty.  or a tree.  to you.  i should really get better at guessing.

you count ... everything.
wah.  tu.  fee.  foh.  fai. and on and on and on.
sometimes you get to 5.  and go to 8.  and then back to 7.  and then 8.
sometimes you get all the way to 13.  or 14.
i think you forget that you are ONLY one.

oh. wheels.
you are in love with anything with wheels ...
bus?  beep beep.
truck?  ("tuk") honk honk.
train?  ("choochoo") i'm not quite sure how you make the exact sound of a train.  but you do.
tractors?  ("TAHCTOHS!!!!!!") yes.  they are really talked about with THAT much enthusiasm.
boat?  no wheels.  but transportation ... so it still counts.
ambulance?
firetruck?  ("weeooo weeooo")
motorcycle? ("cyco")
bike?  ("bite??  bite??")
helicopter?  ("coptoh")
airplane?  ("pane")

i wish i could remember your first words ... but similar to your sisters ... as soon as the words spilled ...they tumbled and there was virtually no distinguishing first words from lists of words.  they were just there.

you throw with either hand.
you love to swing and slide.
you say peez.  and tah-too.
you hit your head against the floor.  ground.  wall.  if you are frustrated.  (thankfully this is quickly disappearing as your vocabulary is quickly growing).

you seem to be allergic to red dye #40.  though that is strictly a guess at this point. 
you have spent the past week in multiple stages of hives spread across your body.
you got hives.
so we gave you benedryl (recommended by a dr.).
and you worsened.
and then i realized that benedryl has red dye #40 in it.  poor guy.

you love elmo.
and dora.
and george.

you love to read books.  in your chair.  in your room
or with someone.
as long as they are about trucks.  or tractors. 

you love spending time with your people.  boppa.  and grandpa.  grandma kristi and grandma jeanna.  you love all of them with your whole heart.  and you will gladly leave mama or daddy to go to them.  unless you want to nurse.  then no one is better than mama.
though you do think it's really funny to request num nums from anyone. 

i'm realizing very quickly that you are just about to turn two.
two.
ohmyword.
two.
and the girly-girls were weaned at two.
and i just am not sure that i can do that again.  i failed miserably at weaning cora.  expecting her to do the same as her big sis.  when i really should have stopped and realized that they are two VERY different peoples.  and that you are too.
so i think we'll probably just take it ... at our own pace.  k?
though i would really appreciate sleeping approximately 6 hours in a row sometime in the very near future, ok?

i love you little finnamon.
we all do.
you are a superb addition to this little family of ours. 
we never knew you ... never dreamed of you ... never thought in a million years that there would be a boy in our lives.
and then you were there.  here.
and we wouldn't change it for the world.
our little blue caboose.