Judah 19 months

I know you are not really supposed to have favorites in parenting. At least that's what I've been told. No favorite children, favorite ages, ect. BUT - if I did have a favorite age - it might be right around 18 months. Judah is so cute right now. I mean, for goodness sake, his favorite activity is giving kisses. How can you get much cuter than that?

Watching him play is mesmerizing. I am literally watching a new life discover the universe in a myrid of ways. It is so much fun. He hears an airplane and looks up at the sky in wonder. Even after it is gone he gazes in amazement, taking a few seconds to assimilate this new information. And truly, this world is a remarkable place. An airplane is fascinating. I have just grown accustomed to so much that is around me. It is a blessing to get to spend time with these fresh eyes, so adept at appreciating the wonder of life.
In addition to his overall cuteness and his excessive willingness to share smiles (and his leftover food), Judah is just sweet. At this age they haven't really entered into true defiance yet. (okay, so he does cry and try to escape when getting his diaper changed or being buckled into his car seat- but I can't honestly say that I wouldn't do the same under such circumstances)

Plus he is so easy to please. He doesn't ask for fancy toys or demand designer clothes or gormet foods. Give the kid a tool to play with or cheeto to eat and you'll be rewarded with a giant smile:
(I guess the same applies for Titus - so I'm twice blessed ;) )

Life with Judah at this stage isn't all picnics and roses, though. He does frequently go about the house whining in a high pitched voice for hours on end. He does hit his brother on the head with poles and other blunt objects. (which may not be completely unjustified) He does act as a destructive and constsant force against the cleanliness of our home. He does not want to share. He does always want my full and undivided attention at the most inconvient of moments. (such as when something hot is coming out of the oven or when his brother needs to be tended to - perhaps from one of the aforementioned head injuries)

I think that is why God must have made them so cute at this age. It more than makes up for all the other trials that must be endured. After all, what is cuter than a pidgeon toed, blonde-hair-poking-out-of-fleecy-hat, smiling faced little runner coming at you with full force, holding a sippy cup of milk, yelling, "BA YEE!" It doesn't get much better than that.