Mr. B Blows!

I mean that quite literally. Yesterday, I made mac and cheese for lunch. It was still hot, but he was clamoring for it, so I brought the dish to him, let him touch it and said, "hot!" Clearly, this wasn't the first time I'd said that, because he started to blow. At first I thought it was a coincidence, but when I brought it to his lips, he blew on it before he opened up for the bite. While this might not seem amazing to everyone else, this "1+1=2" was pretty exciting for his mom. He did it again and again, and when I smiled and praised him, he clapped for himself, blowing all the while.

Then, later that afternoon, he crawled over to his sisters Crocs on the floor and tried to put them on his feet. Amazing! He used to only chew on them. Now he knows that they go on feet!

We're at the stage where he is growing and changing nearly every day and I'm trying really hard to savor every minute. I'm at my mothering worst during toddlerhood. The kiddos are just so go-go-go. They make a million messes a day and breeze through the house like tiny little Tasmanian Devils.

But at the end of the day, he's lovely and luscious, and when I sing the ABC song he curls up in my arms because he knows its time for bed. He surrenders all that frustration and toddler angst just to be my baby for a little while longer. And then, he lies his head down and goes to sleep, usually, exhausted and without a peep.