Dear Grayson —

Walking. You are walking walking  walking walking walking walking walking walking walking walking walking!

That settles it. You’re officially a toddler now. You wobbled about for a while, but then, one day, you had the opportunity to tackle the back staircase (with supervision). You climbed one step after another, in a straight line, until you got all the way to the top. First try, kiddo.

After that, walking wasn’t an “almost” anymore. It must have seemed like a piece of cake after scaling the stairs. You went from “I can maybe do this” to “I AM SO DOING THIS RIGHT NOW” without looking back. This has led to a whole series of new bonks and bruises, because you are pretty fearless when you’re running around the house.

Rodney is still the BEST.

Aside from the walking, everything else is pretty much status quo. You still prefer liquids to solids, but you do love your apples. (Not applesauce. That stuff is gross.) You had a cold. (That was also gross.)

You know what “No” means, and you DEFINITELY know when you are being naughty. You reach for things you know you’re not supposed to touch (cords or cables that couldn’t be moved when we babyproofed, mostly) and look at us to see if we’re paying attention, if we will say, “Ah ah ah!” or come right out and say “No.” (Or, “No, no, no, sir!” because we want you to stop but don’t want to sound mad at you.)

You’re really, really strong, and diaper changes are full-on wrestling matches when you’re feeling sassy. You have tremendous timing when it comes to wriggling. Still new to this, I struggle sometimes to restrain you on the changing table — because SAFETY — without hurting you as you try basically put all of weight on your head and use your neck as a lever.

I guess naughty was just your M.O. this month, buster. I’ll be honest — I prefer the running-in-the-other-direction version to the full-back-bend-on-the-changing-table version.

We’ve started using the stroller more and more, at least for longer walks. You weren’t sure about it at first, but then you discovered that there was a cup that could hold Puffs for you to eat at your leisure. Now, you stick your hand in the cup before you’re even locked in.

We’ve had a playdate or two and we went to Habitot with our New Mom support group, also known as our Baby Buddies. We’re working on getting to know the kids in the neighborhood, too, but…child, that’s going to be way easier when you guys can just walk down the street, knock on the door, and start playing; coordinating adult schedules is sort of bananas. There’s one little girl down the street who just adores you, though, and always has pets for Rodney, too.

You have more patience in the car now, which is great, because we’ve got a big road trip coming up and we’re dreading the ride. For the most part, though, even though you are feisty and spend a lot of time testing boundaries, you’re not overly fussy unless you’re hungry.

Or bored. Boredom is something I worry about a little bit, because you’re basically confined to the upper floor of the house most days. You’ve explored every inch of it. You’ve looked in the unlocked drawers (and broken at least one), you’ve pinched your fingers in the garbage can, and you make a daily (/hourly) game of strewing your diaper covers around your room. You’re at the stage when playing outside would be awesome, but our yard is all cement and you’re not quite stable enough on your feet yet to run around out there. (And OPD is dealing with the big kids who are trying to claim the park down the street…but that play space is a little too old for you right now.) We’re working on the remaining babyproofs to let you explore downstairs a bit, but frankly, downstairs is sort of boring. We may just need to get better about scheduling some out-of-the-house activities. And, at some point, there will be more that you can do inside the house. Coloring, inside the lines or out, is a little out of reach for you at the moment.

Plus? You’ve got a birthday coming up. I have a feeling your toy collection is about to get upgraded…

I love you,

Mommy