I figured out my baby.
After all of his screams and finger-points and moods changing on a dime. After coming to terms with his refusing to sleep and his baby-language tantrums and his koala-ing my leg and early walking and wanting to eat hamburgers instead of purees and his obsession with Legos and lightsabers, it hit me.
Uh. HE DOESN'T KNOW HE'S A BABY.
He looks at Clark and Alice and projects their image onto himself. He thinks he is four years old. He is one year old.
Now, who is going to tell him?