Remember how I ended last month's letter by mentioning your "spark"? Oh yeah, that spark turned into a red hot flame of whiny, clingy, screaming toddler mess. I'm sorry for saying "no" so much to you. It was pretty unreasonable for me to worry about you pulling bookcases and televisions over on yourself, wasn't it? Hello, fourteen months!
You entered into a daredevil phase (I hope it's a phase) that is going to give your poor Daddy a heart attack. You have a small child size table and chairs set that I inherited from my Granny. So far, it was just a place for you to store books and bowls of snacks and such. Then, one day, I walked into the kitchen and you were sitting in one of the chairs. Daddy was working in his office, and unless Daisy gave you a boost up there, you had crawled up into that chair all by yourself for the first time. You were so proud of yourself until you realized you couldn't get down. Crap. We taught you how to turn around and slip down safely, and you conquered it pretty quickly. So, for the next oh, two weeks of your life, you crawled up and down off that chair for a solid two hours a day. Your legs and arms were covered in bruises, and every time you made it up and down, you grinned just like it was the first time. Check me out, I'm climbing, yo! Cue your parents freaking out that everything in our apartment was almost fair game for you chubby little hands to grab now.
See those necklaces around your neck? You became unreasonably obsessed with wearing multiple necklaces at all times. You constantly were taking them off and putting them back on - over and over and over again. Now, don't get me wrong, it was adorable, except for the times when these necklaces got caught on something you couldn't free yourself from. Remember the two weeks of chair climbing? Yeah, you were wearing necklaces during a lot of those climbs, and they got caught on legs and chair backs and your feet and pretty much everything within a twelve inch radias of your neck. Once finding yourself caught, you would instantly melt down and jerk and flop around like a fish caught on a hook. Heaven forbid that you were forced to slow down for two seconds and try to solve the problem. Sometimes we would just stand there and be mean parents and try to force you to figure out the snag yourself. Of course, we always gave in. You also had a handful of bracelets that you forced all of our guests to put on and take off several times. Daisy didn't even escape the wonderful jewelry stylings of Gracie. I would often find bracelets around her paws while she was sound asleep in her bed. If you become a famous stylist or designer some day, I will be able to say that I knew this was in your future way back when.
So, as of now, Daddy is still watching you during the day while I am away at work. Now, he is amazing at juggling both you and excelling at his extremely demanding job, but I started to worry that you were a little too isolated in our little apartment. I love Daisy, but she's not much of a conversationalist. So, I started setting up more play dates with your friend Connor, and we also started attending a music class. You absolutely thrived being around other kids. It made me feel awful that I hadn't pushed this before. You just light up when you see little humans your own size. Maybe you didn't know they existed? You thought you were stuck on this planet with only big people who wouldn't let you play with knives that you found in the dishwasher. You LOVE music class. You stand right in the middle of the room and sway to the music, clap, and stomp your little feet while Mr. Dave plays his guitar and sings. Every time a song ends, you clap, and then you look around the room to make sure everyone else is clapping as well. If you see someone who made the mistake of not clapping upon completion of the little ditty, you walk over and stand right in front of them continuing to clap. I laugh so much during those 40 minutes each week. You love Mr. Dave, you are such a fan girl. Your favorite part of class is when Mr. Dave brings out a bag of musical instruments for everyone to play along with. You always grab a maraca, and with some coaxing help pass out instruments to the wee ones who can't fight for one themselves. Now, there is a good amount of "sharing" going on (i.e. kids grabbing instruments away from each other), but you are usually a good sport about it. Music class is the one place that you have yet to melt down in. I wish we had a 24 hour Mr. Dave channel on tv.
You mastered some funny little things this month. For some reason, you decided to start walking backwards. You always have this look on your face like "whoa, this is seriously blowing my mind" every single time you do it. You also sometimes stand with your hands clasped behind your back like you're pondering the meaning of an abstract painting or waiting patiently for your bus to arrive. It's such a grown up action that it just cracks us up. You also are mastering scribbling with crayons and playing with play-doh. Both of which usually end up in your mouth after a few minutes, but I love seeing your little creative juices flowing. I pulled out some old dishes that I used to play with as a little girl, and we make all kinds of muffins and cakes for our pretend tea parties. Just please stop sneaking bites of play-doh. Daddy is convinced that it is making you sick, and even though that is impossible since it's non-toxic, he doesn't need anything else to worry about!
Even though you were a little tough to handle this month at times, every time I walked into the room and saw you swaying your hips to the Hot Dog Dance on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, I prayed for time to stop for just a few days. I never want to forget the joy that jumps on your face when you hear that song playing. Whatever is in your hands gets dropped immediately, and you celebrate Mickey and the gang's success by clapping and walking in circles with your arms in the air. Sometimes I join you.
xoxo
Momma
p.s. Here you are contemplating your next stroke of creative genius.
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