On Christmas Eve you turned 21 months old. I knew long before that day that this letter to you would be late. I had no idea it would end up being this late. Such is the life of a chronic procrastinator. I know I'm the only one to blame for not getting these letters done in a timely fashion, but I'm going to blame you, okay? When you are awake, all I want to do is play, read, and snuggle with you. And when you are sleeping? Well, I'm tired from all that playing, reading, and snuggling with you. You are the best distraction from life's less entertaining responsibilities. Thanks for that.
ten stickers. Pretty good for a 21 month old boy. Pretty damn good.
You taken giant leaps in your development over the past month as well. You are talking all the time—and quite clearly I might add. Not just random words either. Real sentences. And your comprehension and ability to make connections to separate concepts—just WOW. Before I became a Mother, I had no idea how smart a little guy like you could be. Every day you do something that makes me exclaim, "You are so smart!" I'd like to think Daddy and I are partially responsible for that.
For Christmas you got an easel and a little table—two gifts I suggested that Gam and G-Gi get for you. They've turned out to be two of the best gifts. The table is perfect for you and beats having to toss you into your high chair or trying to do an art activity on the floor. We still do plenty of floor play, but the table just rocks. You love to create art—coloring, painting, playing with play-doh—and we do some sort of art activity every day. Seeing you in a smock (one of Daddy's old t-shirts) painting at the easel makes me so happy. Daddy and I love that you are so fond of both art and music. Singing Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star with you at night while we rock is the perfect way to end my day. You are definitely our kid.
This month hasn't been all fun and games for you. You been subjected to almost non-stop ear infections since October and they refuse to go away. You must have some cozy set-up in that left ear of yours because the infection seems to have moved in and hung up its cross-stitched Home Sweet Home sign. Let me just say that it sucks balls. Big, hairy balls. You've been on four different antibiotics and two different ear drops but nothing seems to be kicking it to the curb. As soon as you get over one antibiotic you start coughing and sneezing again. It's heartbreaking to see you sick so often. Especially since you were never sick until you started daycare back in late September. Who knew that our consolation gift for enrolling you in school would be chronic ear infections? Seems like a pretty crappy gift to me. Daddy and I took you to the doctor's again last Friday (with the hopes that the infection was finally gone). It wasn't. Now we have to go see an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist at the end of the month. Unfortunately, that probably means you'll have to get tubes in your ears—at least the left one. That scares the shit out of me. You'll have to be put under for the surgery. When you consider the fact that I didn't even want an epidural when I was in labor, you can imagine that I'm not crazy about you having anesthesia at such a young age. But, I really don't want you to be in constant pain or to lose your hearing, so we'll do whatever it takes to make you well again. If that means tubes, well then you'll get tubes. Both your cousins have them—so I'm blaming Dad's genes—which I guess means you won't be a family outcast, even with the hair.