Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Art and Bob

My sweet little baby is 16 months old. We are experiencing, in him, a completely different toddler than we had in Jackson (well duh - they are different children). There's really no comparison between the two. While Jackson was all about trucks ("trucka!" he called them), cars, The Wiggles, and absolutely no kisses, Holden is more of our artistic, snugly child. He loves to color, paint, draw. We go to a restaurant and he can barely get into his seat before begging for the crayons they place in front of him. He is content to paint the tray of his highchair the entire time I'm preparing dinner. He pulls on the child-locked cabinet door that holds all my boys' art supplies, begging to create. But when his work is done, he will definitely let you know -- throwing his craft supplies to the ground in disgust (this trait is something both boys exhibit). Done. Done. Done! But then usually he's back begging for more artistic expression in a matter of minutes. Pulling out the play-doh bucket and rummaging for his favorite color.

As for snuggling, he's the champ. Jackson is more of our hands-off kid. He'll open his arms for a snuggle quite rarely so we best absorb the attention while he's offering, because it ain't com'n around again anytime soon. Whereas Holden will leap into our arms any time, any day. He'll back his little body up into me, inching his tiny-hiney into my lap. If my lap isn't available - say it's holding a basket of laundry - he'll continue nudging me until I give up on the laundry and pick him up for a snuggle. At bedtime, the minute the lights are out he lies his sweet head upon my shoulder and begins to breath his sweet breathy breath into my ear. It is relaxed, content and calm. But I dare not hum a lullaby or sing "Baby Mine" as my eldest preferred, no, this child will take only a few bars from the "Bob the Builder" theme song and he's out like a light. Makes no difference that he has never watched a completed episode of BTB from beginning to end, he likes the music. End of story. It is the song I use every time it is my turn to put the baby to bed. It is like magic.

So that is my munchkin, for now. Since this blog seems to serve as my baby book I thought it only right to give an update on what Mr. H is into at the ripe old age of 16 months. Art and Bob. Sounds like a sitcom.

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