Until recently, I thought it was kind of silly for moms to write letters to their small children, who were obviously too young to understand such things, much less read them. I know there’s the wishful thinking that one day the child will delve into the archives of her mother’s blog, cherishing every word. I don’t hold out a lot of hope for that. I’m fairly certain that once you’re of the age where you would even remotely consider such things, this blog will no longer exist.

But I have been enlightened as of late, to a more compelling reason to direct this correspondence to you, Button. You see, there are so many things I want to tell you every day, so many lessons I want to share with you, but am unable because face it, I could be speaking ancient Egyptian for all you know.

So perhaps if I write down these conversations, it will at least pacify my need to communicate to you…even if it’s only in my imagination.

You stay busy each day learning about the world you live in. You walk/run/bustle/flap all over the house during the day, chasing the dog and cat, playing with toys, trying to make a getaway up the stairs. I wish you didn’t think it was such a game. The other day you made it up 4 steps before I realized the gate was not in place. With each step you looked at me and banged on the stair as if to get my attention. Once achieved, and you saw me running in your direction, you let out a laugh and excitedly tried to climb further up the stairs before I caught you.

You love being caught. You totally miss the point of “chase” games. You see it coming and you get all excited…and then you run right into my arms. It kind of defeats the purpose.

Your spacial navigation skills are improving. I think you’ve finally figured out that you are 3″ taller than the space under the kitchen table. Today you actually started ducking, rather than plowing into it.

You still haven’t mastered the concept of walking around anything. Taking the most direct route possible, you either trip or climb over stuff to get to your destination. You’re the only baby in your age group at the Church nursery that is walking, and since you don’t veer around anything, you spend your nursery time tripping over and stepping on all the other babies that are sprawled all over the floor. My apologies to their parents.

I’m not sure how to convince you that there is no nutritional value in carpet. And while geckos may provide some degree of protein, they’re really lacking in calcium. Dog food seems to be your favorite obsession and you will do anything you can to get your hands in it. The next time I can’t get you to eat your banana, I think I’ll try putting it in a bowl on the floor.

Please stop pulling things out of the bathroom trashcans.

5:45am is not Morning. It is, therefore, not an acceptable time to wake up and start the day. Particularly after waking up approximately ever hour and a half during the night for no apparent reason. Morning doesn’t start until at least 7:00am - please make a note of that and adjust your schedule accordingly.

Please stop pulling things out of my office trashcan.

You love books. It’s so much fun to read to you and watch you study the pages. Reading is the only thing that will keep you in one place while you’re awake. I do wish they made baby books that were longer than 3 pages though, as it does get a bit monotonous reading the same 5 words over. and over. and over. again.

Itsy-Bitsy Spider is the best song in the world. I have no idea why. What that Spider has over Little Bunny Foo Foo is beyond me. Yesterday we did Head & Shoulders, Knees & Toes for the first time. I can tell you like it only because you let me manipulate your hands to the motions. And for some reason you really love people touching your face, so you lean forward and stick your tongue out for “Eyes and Ears and Mouth and Nose.”

Please stop pulling things out of the recycle bin.

You love Cheerios. I love Cheerios. FINALLY there is something to keep you busy during restaurant visits that doesn’t include heating up a bottle or walking around the restaurant bouncing you up and down. For some reason you’ve always had very little patience for toys in restaurants. But Cheerios…they are God’s gift to the hungry parent who just wants five minutes to eat what she ordered.

I do not like this habit you’ve developed recently of spitting your food out when you’re done eating. If you don’t want anymore, you don’t have to put it in your mouth. But to open your mouth, accept a spoon full of squash, and then promptly spit it all over the place to signal that you’re done is really. really. really. frustrating. We’re going to have to work on the communication in this area.

Please stop pulling fuzz off the cat tree and stuffing it in your mouth.

You have your own language now. It basically consists of 4 words: Bah, Bwhah, Dooh and Ma. And what versatile words they are. I think Bah-Bah is Bottle, and I’m pretty sure that Ma-Ma is me…And Dooh (the o’s are pronounced like “book”) seems to be the cue for “do that again” but other than that I’m completely in the dark. That doesn’t stop me from enjoying your rambles though as you trapse around the house with your finger in your mouth and your other hand waiving about in the air.

Peek-a-boo behind the sheer window curtains is one of your favorite games. Just so you know, it’s kind of cheating when you can see through the curtains. But the amount of pleasure you derive from it makes it worth it.

Ever since you could stand, you’ve made a tradition out of leaning yourself against the glass door throughout the length of my shower. Sometimes this makes it very difficult to get OUT of said shower. Recently I made the mistake of letting you crawl into the shower with me. You had the time of your life playing with the stream of water and your rubber ducky. And now it has become an obsession. The other day you cried yourself into hysterics for a good half hour because I would not open the shower door for you. I’ve created a monster.

You’ve learned how to turn the TV in the bedroom on. And off. And ON. And OFF. AND ON. AND OFF. AND PLEASE STOP THAT ALREADY!

Please stop plucking fur off the cat and stuffing it in your mouth.

Please stop whipping around and smearing snot all over my work clothes while I’m in the process of wiping your nose.

And please stop growing up so fast. I can hardly keep up. It’s fascinating to see you reach a new level of awareness each day, but at the same time it’s totally intimidating. Sometimes I have no idea what to do with you. Each new step is uncharted territory and I’m improvising as things come along. One day we’ll probably both look back at what an idiot I was and wonder how in the world you turned out to be so normal. I hope that’s the case.

Anyway, I love you and I wish you understood that when I say it to you. One day you will.

Love Always,
Mama

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 24th, 2006 at 9:45 pm and is filed under Milestones, Parenting, Sleep Deprivation, Undeniable Cuteness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.