March 31, 2011
Dear J,
I know I’m a little late with this letter, but things have been crazy lately. Time is moving very quickly, and you’re growing up too fast, that’s for sure. We’re trying to enjoy these days. They really are special right now.
You’re just so much fun. You’re happy most of the time and just love to laugh and play play play. You’ll play with your toys, boxes, pots and pans, the animals, whatever strikes you at the moment.
Everyone talks about how much older you look – like a little man. It’s funny, because that’s exactly what we all call you. But you really do look so much older. You’ve had a full head of hair since you were born and have been getting it cut since you were eight months old. You also have all your teeth except but the last four molars. I really hope your baby teeth situation bodes well for your permanent teeth, since they’re all completely straight. And none of that even covers how unbelievably expressive you are. I also hope that stays; you have no poker face, and this will come in mighty handy in about 12 years.
You also jibber jabber a lot, as your dad calls it. He actually says jibber jabber to you so much that you’re starting to say it, too. There are so many words, and I know I’m forgetting some, but so far there are: brush teeth, NO! (the index finger must be pointed for full effect), kitty, picture, baby, mama, daddy, gigi, papa, nana, cheechu (that’s a truck, strangely), uh-oh, what’s that, ball (comes out “bow”), cheese, and ice.
Speaking of cheechu, you LOVE trucks and buses. Every morning, we lift the blinds in the living room and watch the busses. Mondays and Thursdays are the best, though, because not only do we get three buses, but also garbage AND recycling trucks.
You’ve learned that a doggie says “woo woo” (you aren’t quite there with the f’s yet), and you bark with your whole body. So, of course, we ask you what the doggie says all the time.
You’ve learned to blow kisses, which makes your constant flirting even more irresistible.
We’ve struggled only with getting you to sleep at night. We’ve tried everything: rocking, cry it out, modified cry it out, staying in the room and soothing, going to bed earlier, going to bed later. And until three nights ago, nothing seemed to work consistently. Then, all of a sudden, for some reason, you’ve decided that you are ok if we slowly leave your room after putting you in bed. You pull on one of your many music players attached to the bed. You pull all your blankets into the crib. You throw your sock dog, Soda, onto the rocking chair. You talk to yourself, and generally procrastinate sleeping, for about an hour. But, and this is the best, you don’t scream your lungs out and cough and heave and gag anymore. Needless to say, we are keeping our fingers crossed that these three nights are the new way of things.
We love you and can’t wait to see what cool things you do next, but, please, not too fast. We are enjoying this time so much.
Love,
Mom
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