18 Months!

Willie is 18 months old today! What a journey it's been! I could spend hours and hours staring at the screen trying to type words to describe what he means to me...but if you're a Mom, you already know. Don'tcha? Do you ever find that your special needs children occupy a slightly...more layered area of your heart? Not better, not deeper, certainly no more loved than your other children...just more...fast? Elemental? Immediate? Inherent? Penetrating? Your feelings for that child more...intrinsic? More connate? More utter?

I've been struggling to define just what Willie means to me that is different than my other two cherished babies. It alludes me. Ever since that first day of knowing, even before the positive pregnancy test, and waaaay before the positive ~ make no mistake, I mean shout-it-from-the-rooftops POSITIVE! ~ amniocentesis, Willie has had his adumbration sidled up to my heart, buried into my soul, my very being. But do I love him more? No. I do not. I love them all equally, but very differently. The relationship is different with each child. Just as I am sure their relationships with me are all different. Should I feel badly that they might each feel a different kind of love for me? A different layer of love for me? Then why do I feel almost sacrilegious trying to define what I feel for Willie? I don't know. Like the definition itself, the feeling of guilt defies me.

But that's not what this post started out as! It's supposed to be this:

Willie has a new tooth, on the bottom right, several spaces over from the next one. I don't know which one it is yet, and I won't know until it reveals it's shape, but it's #7 for Willie!

He's been cruising along furniture for a week now! I finally got to see him do it myself, even though The Dear Daddy and The Darling Daughter have been telling me he's done it for a week now!

I've already posted a gazillion pictures of him sitting up tall!

Willie once again weighs 21.04 pounds (21 pounds 2/3rds ounce!) and he is 30" long.

He is still wearing size 6-9 and 9-12 months clothes, and wears a size 4 diaper.

He can sign "more" and "all done" and Miss Katee taught him to high five!

And lest I imply that he's all sweetness and light, I must tell you, the boy has learned to pitch a monumental fit when every little thing does not go his way. This includes dropping a toy, being put down before he's ready, being put into his crib before he's ready, having anything taken away from him, the Mommy-dog walking away from him, the ball rolling away from him, his bottle getting away from him, that it might be Tuesday, or the clock struck ten or whatever...if it displeases him, he screws up his face all squishy and squinty and lets out a howl that hurts the coyotes' ears. And turns red. Very red. Limbs all out straight and rigid. A palatial fit to be sure. It's kinda comical that he can spew such wrath, but I bet it won't be for long.

So, sorry I waxed all sappy...didn't mean to. The boy has stolen my heart. I'm just sayin'...

Post Script: Toothlette #7 is a molar!