You've turned 21 months now, Big. Not a big month per se, but still.
One cute new addition to your repertoire is that you sit down in different places and pat the seat next to you (emphatically) to indicate that you want someone to sit next to you. Often, your pats are in places where an adults rear-end could never fit.
Your spacial skills are somewhat absent in other areas as well, as I have seen you try to cram yourself into Barbie vehicles, and put your feet into cottage cheese containers (empty or otherwise).
Both you and your sister have gone through growth spurts lately. You literally grew eight teeth in the last three months and she has been falling all over herself due to the extra inch or two that she grew over the summer--a real Lucille Ball we have here. If she becomes an actress, her forte will surely be in physical humor.
I have, in the past, posted some great children's books that we've happened-upon from the library. The following is one that brought tears to our eyes. It is titled You Are My I Love You by Maryann K. Cusimano and Satomi Ichikawa.
It goes like this:
I am your parent; you are my child. I am your quiet place; you are my wild. I am your calm face; you are my giggle. I am your wait; you are my wiggle. I am your carriage ride; you are my king. I am your push; you are my swing. I am your audience; you are my clown. I am your London Bridge; you are my falling down. I am your carrot sticks; you are my licorice. I am your dandelion; you are my first wish. I am your water wings; you are my deep. I am your open arms; you are my running leap. I am your way home; you are my new path. I am your dry towel; you are my wet bath. I am your dinner; you are my chocolate cake. I am your bedtime; you are my wide awake. I am your finish line; you are my race. I am your praying hands; you are my saying grace. I am your favorite book; you are my new lines. I am your night-light; you are my starshine. I am your lullaby; you are my peekaboo. I am your good-night kiss; you are my I love you.