rudderless

Nineteen Months

Dear Roo-

Happy Nineteen Months! What a crazy awesome month it’s been for you. 2 more molars. Speaking in complete sentences, about everyone and everything. You have a little work to do in the pronouns department, but for now, nothing in the world is more eloquent than, “My do it? Rosy do it?” I love hearing myself in your language- the way you mutter, “Careful” to yourself all day long. The constant, “Happen? What happen??” And the joyous shout of “I take a WALK!” when I ask if you’re interested in a stroller ride (at 7AM).

Then there’s “Right here” and “Right back.” The other day we were having our special predawn time and I’d been clipping your toenails. When I was done, you grabbed the clippers for yourself and said to me, “Wait here. My right back.” You ran into the kitchen and hopped up on Sophie’s stool to get the dish sponge, which you proceeded to rub between my toes (ewww . . .) while tickling me with the clippers. A baby who administers pedicures. There is simply SO much going on in your head, and in your world. It’s hard to keep up.

The big deal this month- the potty! Next week will ostensibly be our first week living on the boat as a family of four. Karma is truly catching up to me, as you decided to bless me with the gift of “peepeeinthepotty!” What a glorious achievement. I knew you were ready physically and when words started pouring out like wildfire, I knew you were ready intellectually. So here we are a week later and it’s like old hat. Two girls, two potties, one very happy mama.

The tiny moments I want to put in a time capsule for when you’re fourteen and threatening to drive away in the family car:
-The way you touch your nose with your finger and scrunch your face and say, “Shhhh.”
-On New Year’s Eve at Diana’s when you looked over at her sleeping pup and said, “Doggy sleeping. Shhh, doggy quiet.”
-The M added to everything- Mogurt, Morange, Moga (yoga), Melmo. I wonder how long that will last.
-The tippy toe dancing and insistence on being a ballerina just like Sophie. This weekend you were on her bike saying, “Rosy the princess . . . Rosy the PRRRINNNCESS!”
-Your mad love for Tubtubs, Caillou, Brown Bear, Bus Stops and Choochoos.
-It must have come from the Once Upon a Potty book, but the way you gasp when a box comes in the house and say with such excitement, “A new present!”
-The demands for “Booby ON THE couch?” This evening your Dad and Sophie were playing hide-and-seek and you were nursing. You looked up to count- “1,2,3,4,6,7,Booby?” You count everything, with a tiny finger pointing, always, “2,3,4 BEARS!”

I wish I could bottle it, freeze it, distill some of its essence. It is all so lovely right now. Watching the silly, charming, SMART you emerging by leaps and bounds. What a goofball, happy and lovely as the day is long. Every day less of a baby, yet still wanting to snuggle into that cradled spot where you can nurse, “on the couch!” a few times a day. We are at such a crossroads in your life. The moment between baby and kid. Between part of me and all of you. We are all happier people because you make us smile so many times a day. Intense and light all at once, silly and cerebral, joyous through and through. I love you to no end.

Here’s to our adventures ahead. I can’t wait!
love,
mama