18 months.

Before bed each night, Calvin and I pray together. And almost always, mid-prayer, I burst out laughing at the thought of something funny he did or said that day. I end with a giggly thanks to God for the joy Calvin brings to our home.

I think joyful is the best description of life with Calvin. There's plenty of frustration in parenting a toddler, of course. But the overwhelming feeling I have each and every night as I laugh and play and talk and read with my son is joy. He delights me. His enormous smile, his silly antics, his narration of our daily activities. His vocabulary, which has taken off like a rocket these last few weeks, is endlessly entertaining. I know it will get old at some point, but right now I could listen to his excited "Mama! Mama! Mama!" all day long.

Yesterday I let him "help" me put together my Thanksgiving centerpiece, which led to tiny broken pieces of angel vine all over my floor. He reluctantly helped me pick it all up and put it in a Target bag, only to dump it all back out on the floor when I wasn't looking. When I asked him where the bag went, he threw his hands up, shook his head, and said "I don't know!"

I've been trying to teach him to use "please" when he needs something. We're working on the sign (rubbing in a circular motion over your heart) because even though he knows how to say the word, he just hasn't been able (or willing?) to put two and two together. So after scarfing down a few fruit snacks yesterday, he came to me asking for more. He signed and said "more!" and I asked him to say please. Instead of saying it, he started rubbing all over his body, desperately. Like "Oh no, which one is it? I know it involves rubbing...here? No? Here? No? C'mon, Mom! I'm trying! How about I just start clawing at my neck??"

There are a number of books he loves right now (and that we read over and over and over and over...I've started hiding books in the chair cushions when he's not looking) including Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, Big Red Barn, New Socks, and Teeth Are Not For Biting. Each of these stories has an expression he anxiously waits to say — in Chicka Chicka Boom Boom he says "Oh nooooo!", during Big Red Barn he says "Mooooooooooooo" when he sees the cow and "Dog! Dog! Dog!" when he sees the dog, in New Socks he says "WHOA!" when the character goes flying across the wood floor, and in Teeth Are Not For Biting he likes to smile and say "CHEEEEEESE!" at the end.

He's also begun offering hugs as repentance. Last week he relapsed and bit another child at daycare. The incident report always outlines how they dealt with the situation, and on this one they wrote "give hugs." This weekend I noticed any time Calvin did something naughty and was caught, he would smile brightly and say "hugs!" and lean in to hug the offended party — me, Matilda (not interested), the book he tossed across the room, etc.

He's smart, this child of mine. He is also charming, mischievous, silly, independent, stubborn, loyal, endearing, and loving. I don't think I've met another kid who willingly gives as many hugs and kisses as he does (which has led us to wonder if he'll turn into that creepy guy who tries to give everyone back rubs...we'll work on that.). While he's inherited an noticeable blend of traits from the two of us, Calvin has a BIG personality that's all his own. What a blessing it's been for us to watch him grow from helpless infant to independent toddler these past 18 months.

Parenting Calvin is not and will not be easy. He challenges me in a million different ways every day, and he's not even three feet tall yet. But the joy he brings to our family and our home is indescribable.

And what's joy without a little suffering?