Thursday, October 28, 2010

18 Months

Thurston had his 18 month check-up yesterday and all is well. He's 32 inches long and 28 lbs, 12.5 oz, which puts him into the 50 percentile in height and 83rd percentile in weight. Wait, what???? Yeah, that's right. 83rd percentile. As most people who meet him put it, he's SOLID. Just to add the kicker - his head circumference is in the 90th percentile. That's some Mom genes right there. His pediatrition even called him "solid" and in more ways than just around his mid-section. He's apparently very solid on his feet for his age. We've had these comments from others before as well. Mr. T has always been raring to go, since he was two months old, so it didn't come as a big surprise!







Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Pumpkins And Bauples

October 2009:







October 2010:











Thurston's Words:

Apple ("Bauple")
Banana
Peach
Up
Down
Hi
Hello
Hey
Bye
No!
Bus
Duck
Butts (Thanks, Dada)
Mama
Dada
Water
Shoes
Cheese
Mine
Go

And probably some others I can't remember. He's a little sponge.


Thursday, October 7, 2010

Boys!!

Yesterday morning I walked Thurston into daycare before I went into work. He toddled along side me, holding my hand, taking in the sights around him and was for the most part quite content to do so. That was of course until the truck went by. Bam! His legs stop still and I am sort of flung back like a rubber band to his tiny feet anchored in one spot. His eyes widen and his head turns to follow the truck as it goes by us and idles in front of the traffic light. In any attempt to move forward (away from the truck), I met with a squalling, screaming, and let me add: fists-banging-on-pavement child until the light changes and the truck rumbles on its own way. Finally released of his bonds (eyes glued to rumble rumble rumble of the truck), he continues on with me as content as before. Moments later, a bus chugs by and we start our struggle all over again.

Did I teach him to stop and squall over trucks or buses? Did I try to tell him it was really fun to watch him teeter over the side of the stairs, or stand up on his rocking toy, or plunge his bum into the ocean surf over and over until sand is crusted into every niche on him? Where did he learn how to be such a boy?

Who knows? As much as I am swamped with fear over his daredevilish ways, I can't help but be completely infatuated with him. Boys boys boys! I love this kid.