I’m about a week late with your monthly letter. I’ve been trying to find some time to sit down and reflect on the last month of your life, and you know what I’ve discovered? The life of the mother of an 18-month-old doesn’t easily lend itself to quiet time for thorough reflection.
The thing is, your grandma and grandpa D came into town this week, and we’ve been very busy spoiling you with their love in the form of lots of food, fun, and yes, even toys and gifts. I foolishly thought that having the two of them around might allow for a few extra moments of mommy-alone time (maybe to write a letter to my boy), but that has not exactly been the case, which is not a bad thing at all in that we’ve had an awesome week so far: going out to dinner, into DC to see some museums that echo your voice, jumping in puddles, swimming at the hotel pool, shopping, and replacing some plumbing. Well, that last one was your dad and grandpa, mostly, though you do have some tools to practice with for next time. In any case, we’ve been busy, and busy having fun. I hope that you don’t miss these new late bedtimes and funny routines too much when they’re gone, though. But you’ve handled this week’s changes to your daily schedule with the same nonchalance and grace as you have any other disruption in your past, so I know I shouldn’t worry.
I’m not going to ramble on forever, because, go figure, I’m a little short on time. I just want to mention that you now know that the dog says, “woof,” the cat says, “meow,” the chicken says, “bok-bok,” the frog says, “ribbit,” the lion says, “rar,” and the cow says, “moo.” We’re still working on monkeys and ducks, but it’s pretty awesome how well you started to know your animal sounds, gaining this knowledge seemingly overnight.
One of the cutest things that you do lately is when you are puzzled or perplexed, you furrow your eyebrows, put your hand to your chin or out to your sides, you look around and say, “hmmm.” At first we wondered where you got that from, and then I started to notice how I sometimes respond to information that I hear in conversation. I say, “hmmm,” as in, “wow, that’s interesting/impressive/total suck.” I must also say it when I’m looking for something I’ve misplaced, or in other similar circumstances.
You still say, “hi” to everyone you see. They are all your friends, and you are not shy about including grown people in your games. I think you’re still a little suspicious of the ones your own size, though, and you tend to hoard toys and keep to yourself when we are in groups with other kids. You have learned that you can control the volume of your voice, and you alternate wildly from whispers to shouts and back again. You still say a lot of “no,” but you’re also learning that a “please” will get you more than a point and a whine, so that’s something.
I don’t know if I’ll find another moment to write more, but I’ll try to post some pictures of you here in the next couple of days. I am so proud that you’re my flesh and blood, and I love you at the age that you are right now, though I do occasionally wonder what happened to my baby. I can’t wait to see what amazing thing you discover tomorrow, and I hope that my example can always (or mostly) be a good one for imitation.