Good grief. Scratches from fighting over toys at nursery? Button up shirt? Perma-snot?
How does he keep doing this? Everytime I check a roll (well, a camera card) one shot catches my breath and I think 'Jeepers, he really is growing!'
He is closer to 2 then he is to one now. He can take off his own nappy (by sticking his hands down it and pulling the sides apart <_<), he says SO.MANY.THINGS, he can use cutlery and pick up a little cup and drink from it.
When he was a baby I used to wish someone had explained to me how hard it is to be a parent, to care for a child and to not give up when you really want to just put them out with the recycling. Now I know why they don't. Firstly, you can't have a conversation with another adult that goes that indepth if the aforementioned toddler is in the room.
Secondly, you just can't explain. You can only ever vocalise how there is a lot of poo and sick and no sleep and arguments over small toys and putting socks on and all the washing. You cannot explain how someone so flippin' stubborn and infuriating and willful and belligerent owns your soul and you are totally happy about it without sounding like you are entangled in the most abusive relationship in the world.
The best shot at it I have is this: I love this kid with every atom of my being. Forget the cliches. Of course I would die for him but more to the point I would go to the dreaded soft play with him. I'd give up any hope of ever going out on a Saturday night again for him. I would eat courgettes just to set a good example to him. I love the very body he breathes with, the bones that hold his frame up and most of all the precious, authentic little personality that he is.