Milo is 19 months old!

Can you even believe another month has gone by? Milo is nineteen months old and amazing beyond his years.

His vocabulary is, once again, growing by the second. I no longer could even begin to try to recall all the words he knows. Many, many animals and their sounds have been identified. Many machines and their sounds have been identified. He knows words for more abstract concepts, like "mess" and "hot" and not just the words for tangible things. He strings words together, two-words sentences for the time being. He is really and truly communicating with us, and it all at once makes things easier and more complicated.

He has taken an interest in coloring. He prefers pens, though markers or crayons or highlighters will do. He scribbles, switching the pen from right hand to left. He holds it the proper way—not grabby with his entire first, but more like an adult would. Sometimes even daintily, letting his pinky hover in the air. He especially loves it when we guide his hand and draw something. "M-I-L-O," I help him write. "Miyo!" he responds. "D-A-D-D-Y," I help him write. "Miyo!" he responds.

He loves seeing himself in the mirror and proudly identifies himself as Milo.

He likes washing his hands, turning the lights on and off, playing outside, riding his tractor, and jumping on Mommy and Daddy's bed.

He does not like wearing socks without also wearing shoes, putting on his coat, having a sore rashy bottom, or being told "no."

Milo likes dancing and bobbing his head to the beat (or almost to the beat) when he hears music or singing. He smiles when I sing the ABCs to him, but won't sing with me.

He'll say please and thank-you when prompted, but reluctantly. I think he'll only say please when he really really wants something. And typically that something is a grape.

Andrew and I have become slightly less paranoid when it comes to fearing that Milo will choke any second. We no longer cut his grapes in half and we trust him to eat string cheese without assistance. I still have my doubts about dried fruit, but I see that he eats that at daycare sometimes. Not on my watch, though.

Favorite foods haven't changed much in the last month. Eggs, cheese, and grapes top the chart. Fruit in general is a big hit. He's good with a fork, and I hardly ever worry that he's about to stab himself in the eye anymore.

Milo loves trucks, planes, and tractors. He likes robots, or "bobots," as he calls them, and he and Daddy have a weird routine where they take turns giving a kiss to the robot on the flashcard.

He's a good sleeper, goes to bed without a fuss and sleeps from about 7:45pm to about 6:15am. We typically don't hear a peep from him during the night, though lately he's soaked through his diaper and woken up wet and fussy—and I can hardly blame him for a little whining when he's trying to sleep in wet pajamas.

The best thing of all to happen in the last month is that Milo's Daddy-only phase is over. Or sort of over, anyway. Milo now occasionally wants me over other people. And when he reaches for me, because no one but Mommy will do, I love it. There is no better feeling in the world.