Congratulations! You're a year and a half! At which point your father would interject: only 16 and a half to go.
I believe that it is fully appropriate to crown you with the title of toddler. You walk, run, dance (including the MC Hammer side-to-side dance taught to you by your father), and do the splits. You're interested in everything, which is fun to watch but provides unpleasant side effects such as the inability to leave the house in under 20 minutes, the refusal to sit in the grocery cart, and the desire to explore the personal space of strangers. Especially strangers with hats.
Your vocabularly expands daily with the most recent additions of Iowa, business, and Dude. Iowa is courtesy of your Granpa Gary who is bound and determined to see you go to the University of Iowa (you also know Herky, and can say Hawkeye), who spent the past weekend teaching you to play catch and say Iowa. Business came about because you were calling for Granpa and I told you "he'll be right back, he's taking care of business" You then looked at me and said "bissbiz". Now it's how we describe anyone who is off doing something in which you cannot participate: Nana's cooking? Nana's business. Dad's smoking a pipe? Dada's business.
And Dude! You've said "dude" before, but now Dude applies to the one and only Jim King. You think Dude is pretty cool, as he will chase you around the yard and play catch. I also think that this increases his cool factor by a million.
Your eating habits are becoming heavily influenced by the word "no".
Me: Adrian, would you like chicken or a hot dog?
Me: How about peaches or a banana?
Me: A cracker?
Me: what do you want?
You: (sign language for eat)
Me: you want to eat?
You: No. (while trying to climb into high chair)
I'm going to stop giving you choices if you keep this up.
It's very funny to watch you grow and change. Every day you move a little closer to adulthood, all the while pushing me a little closer to the edge of my patience. I understand that this is normal, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. My least favorite is when you pretend that you can't hear me so that you can continue doing something I've just told you not to.
I recently discovered that no ammount of explaining can prevent you from pitching a fit when you've decided to do so. This time in your life has also introduced me to a crucial point in my life: learning to divert my temper. I have a fierce temper, and I spend many moments counting to ten or taking deep breaths. I'll say that this is the most difficult aspect of parenting--I try to model "cool, calm, and collected" so that you may one day be able to do the same. I want you to know that it's okay to feel angry, but it's not okay to take that feeling out on someone else. I try hard to show you that your feelings matter, that some days aren't all sunshine and marshmellows, and that no matter how many fits you throw or how many times I tell you no my love for you doesn't waiver.