What I do know is that while Gabi loved to run, jump and climb at 15 months, she wasn't interested in beating my head with a wooden spoon. Or chomping down on my toes. Or scratching the bloody daylights out of my arms. Or using her head as a battering ram.
Mason loves to do all of those things. Especially the head as a battering ram thing. He likes to get a running start, and by the time you see him coming at you out of the corner of your eye, it's (WHACK) too late.
This is the fifth bloody lip he's given me.
After I took this picture I went home and promptly got a head butt to the other side of my lip. I'm now sporting a Double Header.
Mason is so much more physical than Gabi ever was at this age. And by physical I mean violent. Like he's practicing for the time he'll have to take down his first moose to feed the tribe. The poor little guy has no idea that the closest to a moose he'll ever get is fishing with Daddy at the park pond.
For now we're teaching him that hurting others is BAD, being gentle is GOOD, and hoping that in due time we can channel his energy into something more productive than wanting to provide meat to his family. Like sports (says a dutiful Brazilian wife).