Our RyPie is 18 months old. He is such a joy.
The Stats
Weight: 24 lb. (48th percentile)
Height: 31 in. (9th percentile)
The Stats
Weight: 24 lb. (48th percentile)
Height: 31 in. (9th percentile)
Ryland continues to be a little shorty. He is still in his 12-18 month clothing, which his brothers had outgrown before this age.
He is walking...and nearly running.
He is walking...and nearly running.
Talking? Only a little. His vocabulary consists of Mama, Dada, uh-oh, bye-bye, see ya, and thank you.
He is great at babbling and pointing.
He is great at babbling and pointing.
He continues to be the pickiest eater possible.
He has 15 teeth, with a 16th popping through any day.
These teeth have learned to bite. Porter tends to smother Ryland with what he would call "love," and now Ryland bites to protect himself. I have been a little worried about what he will do in nursery!
Speaking of nursery, he went for his first time on Sunday. He walked in without a look back.
He loves his blanket. When I get him up in the morning, he is often playing with it. I will find him sitting up with the blanket over his head or draped over his shoulders. Sometimes he will be throwing the blanket over the crib and then retrieving it through the slats.
He has become more needy since he learned to walk. He is a little closer to my level and is always at my feet wanting to be picked up. He is pretty hard to resist, so he gets picked up fairly often.
He seems to always have a car in his hand. Or a ball.
He is much better at making messes now that he is walking and not crawling.
This boy can often be the loudest child of the bunch. In a house full of boys that is saying something. I am frequently amazed at his volume.
He loves when dad comes home. He stands at the open back door, pointing and screaming. I don't know what he is saying, but it is sure cute (and, of course, loud!).
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He loves walking...
We are relishing the baby of our family. At times I feel such anguish that this is our last baby, and at other times I can hardly contain my excitement that this is our last baby. I am an oxymoron.
It helps when I pass a maternity store. I cannot suppress the smile that spreads across my face and the deep sigh of relief that pregnancy is behind me. It's good therapy. I should go shopping more often!
Speaking of nursery, he went for his first time on Sunday. He walked in without a look back.
He loves his blanket. When I get him up in the morning, he is often playing with it. I will find him sitting up with the blanket over his head or draped over his shoulders. Sometimes he will be throwing the blanket over the crib and then retrieving it through the slats.
He has become more needy since he learned to walk. He is a little closer to my level and is always at my feet wanting to be picked up. He is pretty hard to resist, so he gets picked up fairly often.
He seems to always have a car in his hand. Or a ball.
He is much better at making messes now that he is walking and not crawling.
This boy can often be the loudest child of the bunch. In a house full of boys that is saying something. I am frequently amazed at his volume.
He loves when dad comes home. He stands at the open back door, pointing and screaming. I don't know what he is saying, but it is sure cute (and, of course, loud!).
-------------------------
He loves walking...
cars...
balls...
cardboard boxes...
the pantry...
and this wall.
So lovable.
We are relishing the baby of our family. At times I feel such anguish that this is our last baby, and at other times I can hardly contain my excitement that this is our last baby. I am an oxymoron.
It helps when I pass a maternity store. I cannot suppress the smile that spreads across my face and the deep sigh of relief that pregnancy is behind me. It's good therapy. I should go shopping more often!
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