Today you're fifteen months old. This morning I was thinking about what I wanted to say in this letter and I have to admit, I was waxing a bit sentimental. You've grown quite a bit this month.
You've mastered walking and now toddle around using an endearingly awkward high-stepping gait. For a while you were under the mistaken impression that your legs were long enough for you to walk down the stairs (don't worry, you didn't have any major spills) but after some practice you now know to sit down at the top of the stairs and scoot down on your stomach. You're surprisingly quick at it and don't have any trouble following us from floor to floor now. Occasionally you'll misjudge the distance and and sit down too far from the stairs and end up scooting backwards on your stomach down half of the hallway which cracks me up.
One of your favorite things to do lately is to nest objects into other objects. There was an empty mug on my nightstand and it's now one of your favorite things. When I'm getting ready in the morning you like to carry your mug around and drop things you find into it. You also love finding my hairbrush and carrying it around. You like to try and brush your hair.
You've also become more interested in books this month. You pick them up and hand them to me for me to read. Your current favorite is Good Morning, Little Bert, which is one of the books the hospital gave you when you were there overnight for an allergic reaction.
Anyway, as I was saying, this morning I was feeling sentimental. You were being really cute, stomping around and giggling and babbling, and during this last month you've really grown. But then in quick succession you 1) refused to take your morning nap, 2) decided that the only thing in the world worth doing was was pulling cds off the shelf, and 3) overturned a large glass of water I had forgotten on the coffee table.
I have to admit, those mushy feelings disappeared right way. You were being so frustrating and you know, opinionated. After I cleaned up the water I put you in your crib for attempt number two at your nap. And again, you simply were not having it. After ten minutes of listening to you bawl I gave in and pulled you out of your crib, tears and snot running down your face. We sat together in the rocking chair and I sang to you and we rocked. You calmed down and cuddled close. Every time you caught my gaze you smiled, happy to be with me. And after everything was said and done, I was happy to be with you.
P.S. - But seriously dude, stop pulling the cds off the shelf.
Labels: letters to E