My son is 20 months old. He's walking well. He's running constantly. He's learning to walk backward. He's learning new words every day. We're in the process of teaching him his colors and how to count. I stay home with him. With the exception of times when I'm in class, I'm here and I'm playing with him, watching "Cars" with him, reading to him, fighting him out of the bathroom and trying to keep him from smacking the television. I go to bed tired every night, but I'm not exhausted. I wake up with him in the morning and we spend time cuddling before breakfast. Generally while he's eating breakfast, I take that time to check emails and take care of some stuff online. This morning, he got curious about putting things in orifices of his. So far today, I've saved his nose and ears from cheerios. I've had to convince him that HIS pants are not the same as MY pants. While we were shopping he decided that he needed more lemonade, even though we have LOTS of stuff to make lemonade here at home. Now he's napping. I'm writing this up quickly before moving into the kitchen to get everything set up for supper tonight and get started on some laundry.
The amazing thing is. I love my life. I love how unpredictable he makes it. Though at the same time I want to pull my hair out. The most amazing part is, I never wanted children. I never entertained the idea of children. I even have a fertility problem, so I shouldn't have had children. But I have one and every day is a new adventure!