The little guy.

Oliver is almost 18 months old now. I still like to think of him as a baby, but I think that’s becoming less and less true. He’s getting bigger and bigger and smarter and smarter.

Remember the other day when I said he had learned the word “no” but was only using it for Dotty? Well, that lasted about 2 days. Now he uses it with us on a fairly frequent basis. It’s still in the “so cute” phase, but I’m pretty sure that will be over soon enough. He’s also learned to say “me!” He has his favorite chair in the livingroom, and Dotty has decided that she likes to sit there too. It doesn’t matter what Oliver is doing, if he spots Dotty sitting in his chair he will run over yelling, “No! Me! Me! Me! Meeeee!” Then someone has to haul Dotty off of there so Oliver can climb in.
These little glimpses of my baby’s independence tell me that he’s not really a baby anymore.
Why do they have to grow up so fast?

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