Sleeping Baby

M is taking pleasure in reminding me how difficult one-year-olds can be. He is a whirlwind of chaos. And his lack of words is creating a little communication problem. He generally refuses to do the baby sign language signs that help assist this transition. They were so helpful with J, and M knows them, he just doesn't see the point in the charade when I know what he wants, and he knows I know, so can he just get his darn milk! He prefers to shriek like a howler monkey. Unless I'm repeating my grocery list in the car to myself while buckling him. Then he will smile and sign milk because he recognized the word when I said it. And he likes to reach for things and either swat them violently if it isn't what he wants, or grab them if he does want it. It is impossible to know what kind of reach it is until you have milk or food splattered on your shirt and the wall.

Apparently I chose poorly. And do so often. 

But he is still so incredibly sweet. He loves to play and be tickled and has a laugh that just makes me think of bubbles escaping his little heart. He likes to throw things and his first non-named word was "catch" as he lobbed a ball towards his dad. He also enjoys throwing heavier things, like flashlights. At his sister. 

We are lucky we still have sweet moment like this one.  It makes me forgive the perpetually mess he leaves in his wake and the damage he has done to my ear drums. This is my favorite M. With his soft blonde hair, being still, cuddled with his favorite red blanket. These are my Kairos moments.