Being a kid.

He likes to play outside. And stay outside. And throw a fit when we need to come inside.  And play in the dirt. And try to eat kitty litter.  And climb up the slide. And throw balls.  And tumble. And play chase me. And step on bubble wrap. And explore...

The moment he started walking, he was no longer a "baby" but a "toddler".  He's still a toddler...but he's more.   He's a kid...he's a BOY.  I now am not surprised when I pick him up from the sitter and he's got a new boo-boo or grass stains or looking in any way shape or form completely disheveled from the pristine look I started him off with in the morning.  Nor does it bother me.  Because the second I see that bright gap-toothed smile from the screen door, I know he had a great day.

He learns more things every day.  The new favorite word is "wow". Which is hilarious btw, when paired with this face:

putting the awe in awesome.

Ms Jill taught him how to pound it out... or as she calls it "gimme some love".  She's awesome.  That reminds me...I still need to get her a mother's day gift.

Kids are notorious for getting into mischief.  Its part of being a kid. We do it to learn.  So as much as I wish he wouldn't do things like this:

 or this....

if he never did it, he'd never know how. I can sit back observingly in a supervising fashion and let him learn himself, I can help him when he turns to me, I can kiss his boo boos, and I can stop him if it's dangerous...and I will to all of the above.  I might have a minor heart attack when I see him perched perilously on his toes but at the end of the day, if he's healthy and happy and passed out on my lap, if he's learned something new, there's nothing more I can do.

Picture reel time:

superbaby at the park

managed to turn his jammies inside out

all smiles, all silly 

putting his toys away