He confidently ambles around the house with his fat little tummy and chest thrust forward to balance his diapered butt.
He knows what he wants and can ask for it: “Malk-a!” “Daddeeee!” “Shebashen!” “Nurshing!”
He can say “no” three different ways: 1) “Nah. Nah.” 2) Vigorously shaking his head. 3) If his mouth is full, sternly humming “MMM-MMMM” with a furrowed brow.
He likes to slowly turn in circles, shouting “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” then throwing himself to the ground in a poorly acted fall.
When he is excited, he runs around yelling “EEEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEE!” for minutes at a time. Not in a high-pitched scream, but just sort of as a pleased announcement of prosperity. “Here I am! Things are going pretty good! EEEEEEEEE!”
When he does this, I call him the Crimson King. That is a nerdy reference Stephen King’s Black Tower books. “How are things going in the top of the Black Tower, Crimson King? How long have you been trapped there, Crimson King? Talked to Randall Flagg lately, Crimson King?”
He loves to inventory his body parts. He also likes to point out these features in others. “I notice that you, too, have a nose! May I curiously touch it?”
He is trying so hard to jump. He bends his knees then quickly stands up, then smiles hugely with the awareness that this is not quite right, but it’s getting close.
When you ask for a kiss, he enthusiastically moves in with his mouth wide open; no primly pursed lips for our little masher.
He loves to eat his dinner on a tray while watching endless episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba, just like Sebastian did. When a character appears on the screen, he shouts its name: “Foofa! Muno! Bwobee!”
He is finally starting to get some hair on the sides of his head, while the top is still just violently cowlicked peach fuzz. The new growth is long, silky, and reddish blonde. Steve and I argue about whether he is ready for his first haircut. (I say no, while admitting he looks like a small Emmett Brown.)
Sometimes he rolls around on the floor laughing to himself for a while, then the laughing peters out and he just lies there staring into space, a small smile on his face.