Elias, it's almost your half birthday. On July 31st, you'll be eighteen months old.
Today you were such a little pill. A cute pill, but a pill none the less.
You're just starting to learn how to get mad at me. I never imagined that I could be so delighted in you and frustrated all at once. Some of your new tricks are just yelling at me, a short, clipped little "agh!". As soon as it is out of your mouth, you look at me with surprise in your eyes - slightly proud of your own volume & a little fearful of my heavy hand.
Tonight before bed we were working on pointing to our eyes, nose, & mouth. Daddy has you all screwed up in this area because he's taught you to push on his nose like a button & his sticks his tongue out. How are you ever supposed to figure out the difference between the two? Anyhow, you were repeating after me. Nose sounded much like "ssss". Mouth was "nu" for some reason, and eye you had dead-on, just really exaggerated. We were playing and honestly, buddy, I was just enamored. You'll learn later than when men are trying to be romantic, they'll tell women they are 'lost in their eyes'. Don't ever pull that mess. You better look at your wife's eyes - pay attention to them real close, tell her how beautiful they are, but I think you're going to marry such a smartie, you'll be lost in her words and her heart.
Anyhow, I suppose I can't tell you not to be lost in her eyes, because tonight I was absolutely lost in your nose. I know it sounds crazy, it's just I look at that little nose every day and I'm amazed. It justmakes your face. I've always loved it. A little bit like your dads, it is soft and wide & I swear you must smell better than most 18 month olds. When I was pregnant with you, I kept asking God to give me a picture of what you'd look like and every time I dreamed about you - I told Daddy that you had a wide nose. And you do, and I love it. Sis has my nose, and while yours could be compared to Dad's - it's really yours. So I get lost in how handsome it makes you, but mostly in the fact that it is all your own. Your nose, like your life, is oddly connected to me - but so apart from me.
You can choose to yell at me, throw tantrums, hug me when you want, run away when I need you close, laugh at what you think is funny, or run to me when you get scared. Later on, you'll make more decisions on your own - you and your nose. And I'll watch and think whatever I think and try my hardest to direct you in the right way, but your life is yours and one day you'll hand it over to Jesus, but it still won't be mine.
You're cute buddy. I can't wait for you to nuzzle those nostrils all over me again tomorrow.