How can I resist?

I try to think back to when my other kids were the same age as Brock and it's such a blur that I don't have any choice but to be impressed and thrilled with everything he does . . . well, sometimes.

I am not so happy with him when he throws his food off his high chair when he gets done eating it, but I do like that he'll pull his tray off by himself and climb in all by himself. He's a climber, so I regularly tie all the chair legs to the table legs so he can't pull the chairs out to climb up on them to then start table dancing, BUT he hasn't figure out how to climb out of his crib. Consequently he has learned to play for awhile in his crib until I key into his babble being him and not the TV or radio or computer which usually plays simulataneously at our house. He has managed to figure out he can use anything to lift him JUST high enough to get to the piano pew (thanks to a pillow), the water dispenser on the fridge (thanks to a pot), or any toothbrush that's not his own (thanks to the bathroom stool). Oh well. Since it's just the two of us several times a week, I enjoy that Brock is a cooperative shopper . . . not so much a cooperative sit-in-the-cart-er, though. As long as I can keep him busy he's cool to sit down, but as soon as I turn away (or the snacks run out) he's practicing his gymnastics on the shopping cart. I think at almost 18 months it's fun that he likes to play chase and tag, just no so fun when he runs out into the street instead of to his carseat OR down the hall with the remote controll OR into the pantry with my purse OR out of the post office when I am trying to mail a package. And, of course, with the running comes the throwing: a ball, a toy, a sippy cup over two pews at church, his jacket out of the shopping cart (17 times in one aisle at the grocery store), ALL his bed paraphenalia from his crib, ALL the contents out of my bathroom drawers, whatever folded clothes I have just finished folding, his brother's favorite race cars (usually at the end of the chasing), and/or rocks. He's all boy. He's MY boy, and I love him to bits, all his naughty, mischievious bits.