The atomic number of calcium

Today, my sweetie boy, you are 20 months old.

I didn't realize it until I looked at the calendar, and it's the 19th again! The months just fly.

On a side bar: I had this linguistics professor who, when talking about the complexities of language, would say, "Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana."

And now I cannot ever think of time flying without bananas.

You're now more than half my height, and pretty soon I'm sure you'll be taller than me. But I'm old enough to drink. So I still win.You point and say, "What's that?" 700 times a day, and you learn new words all the time. The "what's that?" is new and still quite charming. We'll see how that goes.

This morning over breakfast you learned "cuff links" from our house guest. You also pointed out his buttons over and over and over. Fortunately, he seems to be a patient, good-natured fellow.

We took you to the Reef for happy hour the other night. They have balloons and flashing lights and it is all around good fun. There were a ton of kids there.You're very gregarious with us, with other adults, and with the kids you know, but you kind of hang back with kids you don't know. I wonder if you'll be more like me in that regard? It's hard to imagine you as shy, but nobody ever believes I am, either.The fish are still fascinating, although sometimes I'm more mesmerized than you. You can only hold still for so long, and then you want down! So you can run!

You now announce it. "Jordan running!"

And then you make a beeline for the kitchen. Or the entrance to the bar. And I have to sprint after you, grab you up, and tell you that we are Not Invited. Which I realize means nothing to you at this point.

Pretty soon I won't be big enough to swoop you up. I suppose at that point I'll have to tackle you at the knees. Which probably means you'll have to start wearing a helmet so you don't bang your head when you fall.

Which will be hot and sweaty and cumbersome in the summer. Plus then everyone will refer to you as the kid with the helmet.

Maybe you should just learn to listen to your mother. Hmm?

We all love you like crazy,

Mama