19 months old is not the typical milestone people blog about. However, 19 months means that Ty is now the age that Jake was when I gave birth to him (When I gave birth to Ty, not Jake. Wow, that would have been a pregnancy for the books.) Thinking about the way Jake was, and the way Ty is now...well let's just say if we'd had Ty first, baby number 2 would have come a lot later. A WHOLE lot later. Let me just say before I go any farther, that I LOVE THIS CHILD. He is a delight to me, and I love that he is not his brother. That would be boring, and folks, my life is NOT boring with this kid. Here's a little taste of 19 month old Tyler Daniel.
"Heil, Tyler!" Sporting the Hitler 'stache after a chocolate chip cookie. Appropriate because I'm convinced he and Felix are secretly organizing a plot to take over the world.
Telling me in no uncertain terms that he didn't appreciate not being consulted on the haircut idea.
This is Ty after any meal, any day, any time, any place. Just imagine him in different shirts, possibly with different colored dipping sauces covering his entire body, and you have an accurate picture of my son every time he eats.
This picture was taken this morning. I had my camera out looking at our recent pictures when I heard the terrifying sound of silence in the kitchen. This is what I saw. Pretty sure those drawers weren't built to withstand a 28 pound child searching for a snack. Ty's life illustrates the concept of "silent but deadly." I have a few more recent stories proving this point. Unfortunately I didn't have my camera readily available, but I think you'll get the picture. Ha ha.
Ty sitting on the couch watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and eating a tube of toothpaste. The living room floor covered with potpourri. The living room floor covered with quite artistic figure-eights of maple syrup. Ty cutting a hole in a brand new shirt with safety scissors. The kitchen table covered with 2/3 of a box of Kix cereal. Yes, that is a candle with bites taken out of it. The toilet full of an unrolled roll of toilet paper and half a box of Kleenex. 1283 baby wipes individually scattered on Ty's bedroom floor. Ty falling down 1/2 a flight of stairs after giving me a defiant look and standing up despite my warnings. (He was fine, I was 2 feet away and saw the whole dramatic thing.) Ty's face as he takes a sip of the apple cider vinegar he pulled out of the kitchen cabinet. Ty dipping his cup into the dog water and gulping away (this happens quite regularly.)
The list could go on and on. Happy 19 months, baby. Whew, I'm glad you're still my littlest.