We still call Atticus a baby, but it's clear that he is no longer one. Atticus is 16 months old now and firmly a toddler.
He took his first steps a few days before his first birthday but really took off in mid-June. Now there is no stopping him. He walks and especially climbs -- up ladders, slides, the sides of chairs or whatever is at hand.
His words are limited -- the occasional mama and dada, but
more likely hi and bye with a nice wave. He can understand simple
commands. He loves playing with his sister.
He is certainly more physical than Edith ever was. I don't know whether that's his personality or a stereotypical-but-true difference between girls and boys. Either way, it's undeniable. I'm bruised, bitten and battered. And that kid has an arm -- the objects he throws hurt.
Despite that, however, he is an easygoing kid. He'll play by himself, he'll fall asleep on his own in his crib and he is quick to smile and laugh. The baby is assuredly a kid.