Sam hit the 18 month mark on Friday. We celebrated with sundaes and cones at our favorite ice cream place and spent the weekend hiking in the sunshine. SUNSHINE. In January. In Seattle. This does not happen. Heavenly days, as my Grandpa McDonald would say.
We took him to nursery today, and he ran toward the toys and never looked back. Not once. That's just how he does things - full speed, all in. As we were driving home from church, I wanted so badly to be able to see inside his head, to know how it went for him and what he thought about everything.
I've spent way too much time trying to put 18 months of Sam into words, and have determined I would either write way too much or way too little. The only thing I can really say is that I kiss those soft, dimpled cheeks a million times a day, I just still can't get over the fact that he's mine. Taylor and I live for his sweet little hugs, to hear him say our names. He is such a happy soul, and brings so much light and joy into our home. It's hard to get bogged down with things for long when you have this sweet face to look at every day.
Of course we have our fair share of random tantrums and 99.9% of the time we have no idea what he's saying. Thanks to FaceTime and Skype, he says "iPad" more than "Mama," and he has figured out he doesn't have to eat everything we give him (what?!). He is a constant flow of happy energy. Sometimes nap-time and bedtime can't come soon enough, but then I find myself anxiously wanting him to wake up! Every age I think is my favorite age so far, but I think I really mean it this time. 18 months is pretty fun.
Sammy, I love you so.
You make me feel whole.