Squeaker turns a year old this month, and I’m at that weird place where part of me wants to say, “Where did the time go?” and the other part’s going, “Seriously? It’s only been a year?” Because, really, going from a slobbery, crying blob of a baby to a walking, jabbering (and still slobbery) little boy who constantly has that look in his eyes like he’s plotting to take over the world, or at least to unroll all the toilet paper the next time Mommy turns her head, is a lot of progress for a year.
But it’s been so fun watching him develop a personality. Technically we call “uh-oh” his first word, but he’s been growling like a polar bear, squealing out his impression of a horse’s neigh, and trying to meow like the cats since December.
He also took his first steps the beginning of December, and he mastered walking just after the new year. I love those few days right after babies make the transition to toddler, when you turn around and realize that head you saw about two and a half feet off the ground in your peripheral vision is supposed to be there. Not quite as freaky as if the cats suddenly went from four legs to two, but still an adjustment.
Squeaker has two favorite toys. One is whichever’s closest. The other is whatever his brother’s playing with. His favorite foods are bananas and cheese (though not together), and when his daddy gets home from business trips, Squeaker toddles as fast as his little legs will get him, letting out a squeal that still makes his nickname appropriate.
We’re still trying to figure out if he’s going to be a red-headed lefty, but we love him to pieces. Happy birthday, Squeaker!