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Thursday, August 16, 2012

Letters to Carrots: Month Thirteen

July 7 - August 7, 2012
Dear Carys,

When will these monthly letters stop? I have no idea. Month twelve would have probably been a good, solid stopping place, but I can't bring myself to skip them. It gives me time to reflect on how you've grown and changed, and time to look back at pictures of you and marvel at what happens in just thirty days.

You have had quite the, um, bratty month. There, I said it. I know it's not just you - it's the age. You can think and reason now. You understand that just because I say no to things doesn't mean that they are completely unavailable to you, like you thought before - it's actually that I'm choosing to ruin your life by not letting you play with those knives. So you protest the only way you know how - by throwing a fit. Luckily, this is still relatively rare, and luckily you're still easily distracted, and luckily you're figuring out quickly that throwing a fit does not get you what you want, so you're starting to ease up on them a bit. You test everything - you look me in the eyes when I tell you no and go back to doing whatever it was you weren't supposed to be doing, seeing if I'm serious.  And I always am. And so you try again, to see if I'm STILL serious. So the name of the game right now is consistency and boundaries. Also, you're getting your one-year molars in, and, well, that doesn't help your sparkling personality at all. A preview of the "terrible twos" I'm sure. Frankly, you've been SO good up to this point that this dose of normalcy is a little startling.  Thank god these fits are just a flash in the pan and you're quickly back to your delightful and silly little self - and also thank god that you've only done these at home so far and not in the aisle at Target!

This is a "short" letter because there aren't a lot of new milestones to report this month (I know, I know, my short letters are still way too long). You're just perfecting what you already know and do.  You continue to just love on anything and everything, especially fuzzy, soft things and animals. You wrap your arms around the object (often Riley) and lay your head down on it and just love it.  You try to copy me when I march and you do "fast feet." You love to go into things: cabinets, suitcases, drawers...

You strung two signs together and asked for "more milk."  Whenever you want something, you point to it and sign "more." At your Nana's house the other day, you wanted to go outside, so you took her keys off the table, walked to the door, and tried to use the keys to open it.

You climbed from the chair to the entertainment center. 

You are still a crazycakes adventurer who loves to climb.

 You were pretty pleased with yourself for figuring out you could climb onto your dresser from the rocking chair. Needless to say, the rocking chair has been moved.

You are still a messmaker.

You have a little pedal-less push trike that you LOVE to push around the house while saying "vroom, vroom." You also love to balance things on the seat and push it around backwards, and got mad at me when I tied a basket onto the seat to turn it into a cart. You constantly bring me my sunglasses and put them on my face.  You still love to read.

This is probably my favorite picture of you of all time.

You can walk a long time - we're talking entire blocks (like...six of them)!  I don't know what's normal for a one-year-old, but it seems like a lot. And you love walking and saying "hi" to everyone and every animal you meet. I never thought I'd be that mom, but I sometimes kind of a little bit feel like punching people who don't say "hi" back.  You're so happy. You just want to love everyone and have everyone love you back.

You love to dress yourself and will often put on three hats and a pair of shorts over your arms and a towel draped around your shoulders, or something to that effect.

Wearning my bikini bottoms like a little bandoleer. You left them like this ALL day. 

It started with the skirt and lei, then you added two hats.

You collect things and walk them around the house. Today it was the adaptor to one of your bottles, and you wore it around your wrist like a bracelet all day. It's been balloons, cooler bags, diapers, shirts, and god knows what else in the past.

Your favorite food right now? Popsicles.  Since I'm trying to limit the amount of sugar you get, I make them by mixing fruit purees and whole-fat yogurt and pouring it into a mold. When you want one, you'll open the freezer, get one out, and bring it to me.

You are the world's cleanest eater. NOT. But that's okay, because watching you eat is pretty damn adorable.

You still wish you were a big kid. You don't quite understand why the older kids want nothing to do with you and your slow little toddler legs. But you try SO hard.


You still LOVE to take baths and you still love water. You would happily splash around in the tub all day. In fact, you often try to climb in and start the water yourself.

While up until recently your favorite words were "doggie" and "daddy," this month your favorite is  "mum." I love that you say it in a slight British accent! You've said "momma" for quite a while now, but this month it's like your number one favorite word ever. "Mum. Momma. Mommy. Mum. Mum. Mum. Mommy. Momma. Mum." Over and over and constantly. It totally melts my heart and hasn't reach the irritating stage...yet. I'm sure that's coming.

You discovered a wig that I had from Halloween and wanted to wear it. I caught you mid-blink. You look like an 80's rocker coming off of a long crazy night.

Oh - you're also exploring hitting and biting, which is just loads of fun. NOT. We're working on "soft touches" and kissing without biting. The biting thing, though...I think that might be our fault. We are constantly play biting your delightful baby rolls. How are you to know it's not okay to do the same to us?

We went to dad's work to visit him and eat lunch. We went to Jazz on the Green (three times!) and Shakespeare on the Green and had art night at Grandma's and lots of playdates and lots of walks.

We did have one scare that I hate to even put down on paper, but...I was putting you in your carseat and you were playing with my keys. You must have hit the remote start button, because the car started. I took the keys from you, dropped them over the seat onto the front driver's side seat, and finished getting you in your seat. I shut your door, and when I went to open the front door...it was locked. HEART ATTACK.  Your dad didn't have a spare set, so I called 911 (I wasn't sure how long a locksmith would take, and, you know, you were LOCKED IN A CAR). Luckily, the car was running and you were safely secured in your carseat, so I wasn't TOO worried, but I was still freaking out. Turns out they just call a locksmith anyway, so I probably could have just done that to start with. I waited...and waited...and waited...and suddenly after fifteen minutes (!!!!!) the car shut off. Apparently if you don't put the key in, the remote start cancels. So you were still strapped in your car seat, but now in an un-air-conditioned car. I put a blanket over the window to keep the sun off you (we have a sunshade on the inside, but I wanted double protection). The cop finally showed up, but we were still waiting on the locksmith. He took another ten or fifteen minutes to arrive - and by this point you were fed up and screaming at me. I played Elmo videos for you through the window, which helped keep you calm.  The locksmith guy, when he did arrive, was totally incompetent and took ANOTHER ten or fifteen minutes to get the door unlocked. I kept telling him to just break a window, but he swore he could do it. Finally, I heard the sweet clicking sound that meant you were free and ran to get you out. I was a mess, you were a mess, and now I always make sure to have the front door opened before I shut your door...just in case. My heart breaks for you just looking at these pictures. But you were fine once you nurse a bit and drank some water.

You're in full-on toddler mode and it's about time for me to admit that my baby is no longer a baby, but I'll continue to be in denial about that for the next 18 or so years, I think.

I love you so much, kiddo. So very much.