Why I’m Jealous of My 19-Month Old

I’m jealous of a 19 month old.

My son is more or less who I want to be when I grow up.

He smiles at everyone.
I avoid eye contact with strangers. I worry that they might think I’m weird or that my smiling at them might be creepy. But Kingsley? He smiles at everyone.


He smiles with his whole being.
He doesn’t just flex the muscles around his mouth and turn his lip upwards. He smiles with his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his whole body! When he is smiling at you, you can’t be sad or mad or anything but happy. Even when we are grocery shopping and we pass strangers in the aisles, he smiles at them with his whole being, and they laugh and say hello.

He dances like no one is watching.
Really – literally and figuratively. Whether it’s an odd little jig, or spinning in circles, or bobbing his head – whether or not there’s any music playing at all – when he is dancing, he is dancing. No inhibitions. Just good times. Why can’t I do that too?

He feels and experiences his emotions entirely.
When he’s mad, he is MAD. When he’s happy, he’s over the moon. Sad? It will break your heart. He doesn’t hold back. He hasn’t been trained by the world around him to hold back yet. He lives every experience in its entirety – every emotions, every sensation. It’s pure living.


He gets over it, and fast.
The other night it was his “mikmah” – his milk – he kept spilling it on purpose, because he likes cleaning it up (another blog post altogether, ha!), so we put it back in the fridge until supper, and he was furious – for about 30 seconds. Then, he went on and found something else to do.

He could care less about TV, computers, phones or tablets.
He’d rather poke you in the belly button and then laugh hysterically.

He understands that actions speak louder than words.
At least, that’s what it seems like. When we tell him not to do something, and he knows we are upset, his face shifts, and he leans in for a kiss. This is, of course, followed by a loud “Muah!” (really it is more of a “muh!”) Why can’t I do a little action and a little less talk when it comes to things like apologizing?


He knows how to make me laugh, and he knows when he is being funny. I wish I was even a bit as funny as he is.
The other night we were reading, and the book featured cows as the main characters. He kept mooing at the cows, because that’s what they do. Something about it was so damn cute that I burst out laughing. He paused, look at his Mommy, then looked back at me with the biggest, goofiest grin, and I started laughing again. The rest is history. He knew the goofy grin had me laughing – wheezing in a high pitched, ridiculously out of control sort of laugh. He amped up the grin and started shaking his head and getting closer and closer, then would look away and look back to start it all again. This went on for at least five minutes until I was able to catch my breath, stop wheezing, and finish the story.

He wants to help, so he does.
Sometimes as an adult, you know that help is needed, so you do it because it’s needed. Kingsley helps because he wants to help; because it is so within his 19-month-old nature to be part of the scene that he’ll climb into the garden while we’re weeding, pick up dirt and start tossing it around. That’s what we appear to be doing, so he’s right there with us. He spilled his milk? “Help!” he says, and he waits for a paper towel, then wipes it up and throws it out. There’s no need to ask. He’s your man.


His sense of adventure is terrifying.
He’s fearless. He’ll climb onto a stool and jump into the blankets while I am making the bed. He’ll walk off the couch, assuming that someone will be there to catch him. It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to us or not – he wants to take every single risk. Except for pine cones. Don’t even think about giving him a pine cone.


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