Clichés and growth spurts.

As clichéd as this may sound, it is really astounding how fast kids grow up. Not height wise, mind you, although that is just as incredible, but how Mini Me they become. They pick up on different tones of voice, they can ask for things, they ask about things, they give you attitude, they give you affection, they give you heartburn, they are fiercely independent and stubborn to boot. I am as proud of my son as I am ready to plunk him on the top of his head. He surprises us with words, thoughts and deeds and then a second later drives us nuts with an act of utter stupidity like only a toddler can manage. The need to stay a step ahead is always thwarted by his improvisation and diversion from what is otherwise his self-imposed routine of eating, blankie, playground, snack time, song time etc. As exhausting as it is for parents, I also feel it keeps the mind sharp much like playing Bridge or Chess does.

I do miss the days of eating, pooping and sleeping, but as you watch him mold into his own shape and form his own, albeit often exasperating, thoughts and desires you feel a parent’s pride that despite all the doubts and fears of failing as a parent, you are doing something right (or so I like to tell myself whenever my son is throwing a tantrum at my feet).