See Ben run. Run, Ben, run!

At 21 months old, Ben is exploring everything he can get his hands on and anywhere he can go. He runs, not walks, most places. If he's in the kitchen and wants to get a toy from the living room, he zips in there. If I tell him to grab his sandals because we're headed outside, he dashes over to the shoe tray by the back door. When we head to the park, he trots there. 

This running: It brings me so much joy. While I consciously don't think it's because I didn't get to go through this with Max, maybe there's a vestige of that. (At 21 months old, Max was commando crawling, which we were thrilled about.) Either way, it's ultra-adorable and reflective of this time in Ben's life, when he's just so excited about everything:

Oooh, watermelon! I shall prance around with a piece of it in my hand to express my excitement!

Yippeeeeee! A garbage truck! Outside my window! I shall do laps around the foyer because this is so giddy-good!

What is this metal thing on the floor with holes? Grate? Wha? I think I shall zoom back and forth and back and forth over it because it makes a funny noise! Ha ha ha!

Oh! Mommy is in the bathroom! I shall run away from Daddy and bang on the door because she should not be in there by herself! 

I mean, the moonwalk was pretty impressive. But the the way Ben flaps his hands when he runs kills me every time. He also likes to babble as he goes: "Yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo!"

I see it and hear it and I feel his toddler-ness, and I ache for him to stay this age.