Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Months 17/18

My Sweet Boo,

Again, Mama has gotten behind in her postings. Summer fell gently into fall and I was preoccupied with our family, and with my patients, and with the swirl of activity around us.

Today you were sick with a runny nose and lots of congestion. You had a temperature and were just generally ill at ease. I took the day off to care for you. Not only have your walking skills led you from room to room with ease and able to grab small objects off high shelves, I realized today how very good you are at understanding what I ask. For a long time I assumed you were merely mimicking me when you said, "Dep" or "Nooooo" to my questions, aping what you heard or saw me do, but today it was clear to me how much you grasp the English language, even though you can't speak it yet. You pointed out the bus in the pictures in your book. You hugged your doll "Red" and offered him cuddles and kisses when I suggested it. You brought me a ball when requested. You wandered over to your highchair when I hinted that I was making you some noodle soup to help with that cold of yours.

I love this new discovery in you. And...I'm learning that not unlike your Mama you have your own independent and distinct views on things.

This past week I've learned from you that...

  • You'd rather NOT eat noodles from the spoon, but would prefer them placed on your tray to be picked up with your fingers.
  • You'd rather NOT be fed applesauce, but would like to eat it on your own with a spoon, which you have not quite mastered, ergo plastering applesauce all down the front of your onesie.
  • You'd rather NOT get your pajamas on after bed, preferring the au natural approach to evening feedings and nighttime romps.
  • You'd rather NOT have help walking at certain times of the day, but WOULD rather have help at other times.
  • You'd rather NOT dance to Indigo Girls or Tracy Chapman or Jerry Garcia, but be-bop yourself crazy to the YouTube video of SonSeed singing "Jesus is My Friend."
  • You'd rather NOT have the dog anywhere near you, saying "NOOOO" in a definitive tone but would love to bathe in her waterbowl, and have even been known to lick her food bowl for extra "let-me-really-gross-Mama-out" emphasis.
  • You'd rather open and close every cabinet in the house for as many hours as you are awake, but would rather NOT open the doors on the quasi-expensive puzzle we got you with various doors and locks.
In short, you're becoming a toddler.

Last night as we put you to bed you smiled at me from your daddy's arms and said, "Nigh, nigh, Mama." Today as I gave you a block you wanted you said in your own faltering English, "Dank you, Mama." Do you know how you make me melt? I'm quite confident that at nearly eighteen-months you have no idea. I simply melt into the carpet at my feet for you to crawl all over me. And I rejoice in the fact that you are ours.

I adore you, my love.
More than words can say.

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