Baby Will: 12 months.

Beck and I were talking yesterday about how these will be the last cactus blanket pictures, and I was just like WHAT.IS.HAPPENING. He's one. One!

Little Light of Mine just doesn't even begin to describe Will. As I look back on this year I feel a pretty big mix of nostalgia, happiness, regret, and disbelief at the sheer speed of the passage of time. But that's about the year, not about Will. Will is the sweetest little light and has been the most wonderful addition to our family. His curious, vibrant little personality has started to show itself more and more the last several months, and he is just the best tiny person.

Speaking of tiny! Will weighs a whopping 19 pounds and is in the 14th %ile at age one, up from the third %ile at his nine month appointment. He can "say" several words, right on pace with where Beck was at this time in her life. Yes I compare them, no I don't know how to stop, it's fine.

Words are: Mama, Dada, Beck, Blueberry (it sounds like boo but whatever), Banana (nanananana), and a few other mimics here and there when we prompt him. He can tell you that a dog says "woo woo woo" which is the cutest thing ever, and the PRIDE that bubbles out of this little squish when the words come out the way he wants them to is just the most fun thing in the entire world. The words came kind of all of a sudden a few weeks ago, and he's gotten maybe one or two more every other day that are reliable.

Also like his sister, what Will excels in cognitively he lacks physically. There is no crawling, but a VERY inefficient bottom-scoot that is the funniest thing ever. There is no pulling up, but he will hold onto something and be really, really gleeful at his own standing if you put him there. To get around, Will employs a combination of rolling, scooting, and army-crawling that is really confusing to watch and yet somehow works. Crawling is basically a useless skill anyway and the doctor doesn't care, so I say let's celebrate his uniqueness. It's really, really cute, too.

I'd make a list of favorite things, but honestly Will doesn't really have any un-favorite things besides being put to bed. He understands enough now to know that when his sleepsack appears it's time to whine, but our sleep stance is firm so he doesn't get very far with all that. He had a sleep regression a few weeks ago that entailed him howling for 15-20 minutes every night for a week at bedtime. I really, REALLY advocate for consistency in sleep (no inches given unless there is illness), so he did his screaming, fell asleep, and since then it's been more like 90 seconds of fussing and a random yelling out just.in.case. we're listening.

Feeding is kind of medium in that Will likes a good number of things but he's also getting to the age where he isn't interested in trying unfamiliar things, and since he's nudged into Beck's schedule he has to just eat without a lot of fanfare most days. Favorite foods are sweet potatoes, frozen peas/corn, all fruit, frozen meatballs, and shredded chicken in marinara. Once he ate an entire cup of tofu curry in one sitting. Foods to be wary of are beans, cheese, avocado, and pizza, so I'm not quite sure about his intelligence. Graham crackers are the holy grail of caloric intake some days, and graham is whole wheat, right? Do not answer that.

Will's normal days include two naps, lots of moving around the house, errands with me, laughing with Beck, and snacks like it's no one's business. His relationship with Beck is still his ACTUAL favorite thing, and the way he is so curious about what she's doing + how he lights up when he sees her is the sweetest thing in the world. Whenever any of us walk into a room his whole body bucks back and forth until he gets picked up or hugged or talked to. He definitely knows he belongs with us, and I love that.

Will and Beck have started their second year together with this: a game in which Will stands in his jumper, Beck walks out of his view, then races toward him screaming as loud as she can while he sits paralyzed and unable to escape. Then they both giggle so hard they can't breathe, and she does it again and again and again until she trips and falls and cries and Will cries because the game is over.

And that's life as a second child, I suppose.