growing up—22 & 23 months

Dear Gideon,

You have been in our lives nearly two years, yet I find it hard to remember life without you. That part of my life just isn't as important anymore. You are what's important and my life has been forever altered because of you.

When I walk into the kitchen and see the door leading to the basement steps open, a little part of me panics. Even if you aren't home. It needs to be closed because of you. That's just the way we do it now. So much of the way our lives function on a day-to-day basis plays out in a lovely pattern because of you. Some days it is really tiring, but I can't imagine it any other way.

22 months—January 25, 2009

In less than a week you will be two and I feel a little guilty that I'm just now finishing your 22 & 23 month letter. I've had it started for many weeks, but time just seems to get away from me. As I've said before, I'm a terrible procrastinator and prefer to spend my time WITH you rather than writing a letter TO you. And when you are napping or in bed for the evening? Well, that's when your Dad and I do the chores around the house and spend a little time together. It's those sort of moments that have kept me from writing this letter for so long. That and the fact that I may just be a wee bit lazy.

I keep a small running list of cute things you do each month that I don't want to forget. Of course, many of the things you do never make it to the list since you are the epitome of cuteness every day. I can't write it all down. In the past couple of months you have done some things that make me want to squeeze the cute right out of you.


Your Dad started making a little puppet of sorts out of his hand during dinner to encourage you to eat your food. The hand would talk to you while picking up little bits of food and pretending to eat them. You thought that was great and even went as far as naming your new little friend out of the blue one day. You like to call him "Coch-coch"—like the word "coke" with a thick "ch" sound at the end.

You talk all the time but still have trouble with your "F" sounds. I hear it is one of the hardest sounds to master and you can take your sweet time if you want. I think it is really adorable to hear you say Goosy instead of Goofy, letting us know you eat with a Sork or that you just Sarted. Especially that last one. Farts are funny no matter how you say it.

You also say "Love you" now and that makes me melt a little each time I hear it. One of my other favorite phrases you say these days is "Ummm…how about…". You say it when we are picking out your clothes for the day or deciding on which snack to have or which book to read. The way you draw out the "ummm" and sound so inquisitive yet serious about your decision slays me. I couldn't figure out how you came up with that until I realized your Dad and I say that to you quite often. That makes it even cuter.


We are constantly telling you to take little bites of your food—which is in direct opposition to what your Dad and I do with our food. Some how you transformed those little bites into "cute bites" when you talk about them. You pinch your thumb and forefinger together and say "cute" when that bite on your fork is too big for your liking. That's our cue to help you get a more manageable bite for you. That's good. Somedays I wish I had that same self control.

This one will probably embarrass you because I'm going to talk about taking showers with me, but come on, you're just a little guy. It's not creepy yet. Plus, you love taking a shower and it's a great way to make sure you don't get into trouble if I need to shower when your Dad isn't around. Anyway, one of the new things you do when we take a shower is wash your bath toys and my feet with a washcloth. It is what we do when you take a bath, so it's only natural that you would return the favor. You're really sweet like that.

23 months—February 24, 2009

You have also developed this odd little dislike for shadows. It started one day when you ran out of your room yelling, "Bear. Bear." When I went to inspect the cause of this little frenzy I was surprised at what I found. There in your room, next to your bookshelf, was a shadow that did in fact look like a bear. It was being cast onto the wall from the rocking chair, but it was enough to freak you right out. After that you did not care for shadows one bit. It took a lot of reassuring and explaining what a shadow was before you would even look at one without panicking. You're better now, but that old bear still freaks you out a little. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe.

the bear

I hope when you are an adult you read these letters and get the same warm fuzzy feeling that I do when I write them. I hope you can appreciate how awesome you are and see how much we adore you.

Love,
Mommy

growing up—21 months

Dear Gideon,

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.

21 months—December 24, 2008

It has been one hell of a month with you. On December 18th (Daddy's 30th birthday) you did something so awesome I couldn't wait to shout it out to the world—YOU POOPED ON THE POTTY LIKE A BIG BOY!!! To say that we are a little proud would be an understatement. We are thrilled. Who knew poop could be so exciting? You had a couple of incidents where you pooped on the floor—both sort of my fault—but other than that, you've been a champion toilet pooper. I even created a "Super Duper Potty Chart" for you. Every time you go on the potty, you get a sticker for your chart. Only if you actually GO. Just sitting on the potty gets you nothing more than a story and a little together time with Mommy & Daddy. You like the sticker chart—which hangs above your changing table—and to date, you already have 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.

filling the bird feeders with Mommy

You have discovered the deliciousness known as chocolate milk and not a day goes by where you don't ask for "Choco Malk". If we won't give you the chocolate milk you immediately ask for "Soy Malk". Apparently, Vitamin D milk is at the bottom of the pile as far as deliciousness is concerned. I completely understand.


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.

playing play-doh with Daddy

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.

Love,

Mommy

Growing up—20 months

Dear Gideon,

At the end of November you turned 20 months old. Twenty months! Do you realize that means in just four short months I'll have a two year old on my hands? Holy crap! How is that even possible? Part of me is so sad that the days have flown by at a whirlwind pace with you, but every day is so wonderful that I wouldn't take back a single moment.

20 months—November 26, 2008

I think you feel that way too because you can't wait to start each day. You tend to wake up each morning between 6 and 7. You call out "Mommy" and "Daddy" to let us know you need us NOW. Neither one of us are what you would call thrilled at the interruption in sleep so after a quick diaper change we bring you back to bed with us.

That lasts about 20 minutes or so before you can't stand the thought of lying in bed anymore. You climb out from between us, slide off the bed and almost immediately head over to Daddy's side to get him up. You hand him his glasses off the nightstand, then you hand him his pants off the floor. If he isn't moving quick enough, you say "Get up" while trying to lift him out of bed. It's hilarious. And effective.

reading with Uncle A on Thanksgiving

You are learning words like mad and you talk all the time. It's so cool to actually KNOW the words that are coming out of your mouth. Sometimes context is key, but regardless, your vocabulary and comprehension kick ass.

rockin' the vote

On November 4th you accompanied your Dad and I to the voting booths to participate in one of the most important presidential elections in history. That day our nation elected the first black president. It was a monumental moment for the United States and being a part of it was really something special. It made me really proud to be an American that day. Knowing we participated as a family made it even better.

when you get to be my age, don't jump as forcefully—the pile isn't that cushy

You got to jump in your first pile of Fall leaves a few weeks ago. As expected, you thought it was awesome. I tell people often that I'm so glad I had a boy. Of course, I would love you just the same if you were a girl, but I have so much fun doing the rough and tumble things with you. Rolling around in a pile of leaves, collecting rocks and other specimens on our walks, building forts, and playing with the knights and the ogre in your castle set—it just doesn't get any better than that.

we ALL love playing with the castle

Love,

Mommy

growing up—19 months

Dear Gideon,

A couple of weeks ago you turned 19 months old. Here I am, yet again, running late with your monthly letter. It's a good thing you won't get them for years to come—that way I'm not exactly confined to a strict schedule.

As always it's been an amazing month for you. I'm so proud of you and the way you're developing. You love school—that anxiety took about a minute to get over—and I find it bittersweet that you don't cry when we drop you off. You hardly take a second look as we walk down the hall. It's wonderful you—but holy crap—the reality of my baby becoming a little boy can be hard to swallow sometime.

19 months—October 26, 2008

Smart does not even begin to describe you in my eyes. You are a little genius. You've been talking in short sentences, learning your letters, singing songs, and comprehending way more than I thought possible. You love to do puzzles. You love music. You love creating works of art. When we talk about getting out the markers, you run to the office and head straight for the cabinet where we keep them. If we're going to paint you find the brushes. When it's time for stories before you go to bed, you grab some books and take them into our room. You in a nutshell, are Magnificent!


You did something on October that had me making up a little song and dance in excitement. On the evening of 26th—as we were getting ready for bed—you ran towards the bathroom pulling at your pants. When I asked if you wanted to sit on the potty you said "yes" and I got your pants and diaper off for you. You sat there for a moment, made a little strained face, and then lo-and-behold you peed. In the potty! We were hugely excited about it. So excited in fact, that your Daddy and I celebrated with a little song and dance. I think it will be bittersweet when you poop in the potty—excited that you did it, sad that I now have to clean it out of the tiny toilet.


Love,

Mommy

growing up—18 months

Dear Gideon,

Last Wednesday you turned 18 months old. A full year and a half. It's crazy to think that you've now been outside of my body twice as long as you were inside. Wow. So now you're 18 months old and I'm trying to get away from telling people your age in such a small measurement of time. I'm not sure what the official cut of date is (2 years? 3 years?)—but you're getting to be a big boy now. If I don't change my ways soon, I'll be celebrating your 396th month birthday with you—and that's just an asinine number of candles to try to fit on a cake.

18 months—September 24, 2008

your molars are coming in so you like to chew your binkie on one side

Your 18 month milestone (hey, I'll change when I'm ready) came smack-dab in the middle of a HUGE week for you. That Monday your started your first day at daycare. For an entire year and a half we were able to avoid having to utilize formal daycare, instead depending on the kindness and availability of our family. But G-Gi moved away, Daddy's family all work full-time jobs, and you have way too much energy for the long days needed with Gam. Much to the dismay of our wallets that only left one option—formal daycare. I wanted you to go to a center with other kids as opposed to daycare in a private home. Not only for the freak pedophile fears, but also for the opportunity for you to interact with children and get a new perspective on life. We don't have many friends with kids your age right now so you don't get much interaction with the wee folk. Now, I know Daddy and I are awesome, but it's nice for you to get a chance to play with some people your own size.

first day of school

this is what you wore—not the jammies

Anyway…Monday was your first day of school (what we've decided to call daycare since all 3 of us go to school now) and Daddy ended up taking you alone. I have to leave for work (my school) an hour before he has to leave for class and we decided to keep you home that much longer rather than drop you off together. It also made it easier on my heart. I don't know that I wouldn't have cried dropping you off that day—hell, I cried just TOURING a daycare when we first started looking. Daddy may or may not have cried after the drop off—but that's up to him to tell you. It was reported, however, that YOU WERE A CHAMP! You ran right in with the group with barely a glance back and only teared up twice during the day (once around 10 and again at the end of the day when the other kids were being picked up). As a matter of fact, the teacher told Daddy that you had one of the best first days of any toddler. Way to go buddy!

you love picking up rocks

making a pb&j with Daddy

You are going to school just two days a week but they are long days. It's a big adjustment to days alone with Mommy, but I know you'll be okay. Daddy had to leave you crying and pointing down the hall after him this morning and it took all he had not to scoop you up and run back home with you. It's going to be a big adjustment for all of us.


I've also started taking you to story time at the library. It's something I've wanted to do for a long time but the sessions always seemed to fall on the days I worked or during your nap time. Not this time around! The story time at the branch near our house didn't work with our schedule, but the Maumee branch had a Thursday morning that was perfect for us—not too early and not too close to nap time. It runs for ten weeks and we will go to our third one tomorrow. After a half an hour of singing songs, saying rhymes, and—of course—listening to stories we'll pick out 5 to 10 books to take home with us and read until the next week. We read before nap time and again before bed time (and anytime in between when you grab a book). Laying in our bed with you to read has become one of my favorites nightly rituals.


The other big event this past week was your very first HAIRCUT! The haircut that your Daddy thought I'd never get done. I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever cut your hair. I wasn't in a hurry. I liked your hair just the way it was. Your beautiful red hair that curled up at the ends. The little mop top that had gotten a tad out of control. Eighteen months without single snip. But it was time. So last Thursday the three of us went to my stylist Dawn, and after I had my hair cut, you had yours cut.



Of course I took pictures and saved snippets of those sweet baby curls. I can't help it. That's who I am. I'm your Mom-mom and I love you more than you'll ever know.

You might as well get used to it.

Love,

Mom-mom

growing up—17 months

Dear Gideon,

Early into August, while eating lunch one afternoon, Daddy asked if you wanted some rice. Without skipping a beat you looked at him and said, "Rii-ce". Perfectly. We both looked at each other wide-eyed and connected with the same thought, our child is a genius! I cannot believe how smart you are and although your development may be right on track, we think you are extra smart. You are mimicking words we say non-stop these days—which means any day now you'll utter the word "shit". As long as it's not in front of Gam, I'll let it slide. But let's not worry about that right now, instead let's focus on a couple of my favorite additions to your vocabulary.

17 months—August 24, 2008

First we had "Mom-mom". Every time you said it my heart would swell because I knew it was being said to me. I'm your "Mom-mom" and you coined that term of endearment for me. And you said it often. You've since shifted that to just "Mom" these past couple of weeks but it is no less sweet. Besides "Mom" and "Dad" you seem to have a few other favorite words. "Dog", "No", "Uh-oh", and "Juice". Each one has it's own cuteness factor but the way you say dog is hilarious. It's sort of like "dough-ga" and sounds oddly like it's coming from the voice box of an old smoker.

riding the carousel at the Toledo Zoo for the first time

We've been working on teaching you to wink this month. Much to my happiness you wink well—and with either eye just like Mom. I learned to wink at a really young age and G-Gi says I would wink at people everywhere we went. I hope you take after me that way—especially since your Dad can't really wink at all.

watching Dad put on a puppet show at 577 Foundation

You decided that two naps no longer fit into your daily schedule and we've completely abandoned the morning nap. This was a little tricky because you wanted the one nap a day to be in the morning and I wanted it to be in the afternoon. We went through a few days of droopy eyes at 11:30 but now you know that naptime is after lunchtime. It's a nice break in the day for all of us and since you only nap once we get 2.5 to 3 glorious consecutive hours of down time.

this look is going to kill the ladies some day

When you first started watching cartoons (bad Mom that I am) I refused to let one of those shows be Barney. Curious George, Clifford, Super Why, or Arthur? Sure, even I enjoy those—but Barney? No way. Something about that purple dinosaur rubs me the wrong way. I didn't hide my dislike for Barney either but G-Gi didn't care, she would let you watch it. And of course you loved it. You'd do a little dance when it came on. So I gave in and let you watch it in our house once or twice. One afternoon as the show wrapped up Barney and his pals were singing the "I Love You" song like they do at the end of every show. When they got to the part that goes, "with a great big hug and a kiss from me to you", you ran over to me, gave me a huge squeeze, leaned your head back to look at me and then gave me a big kiss.

checking out your reflection at the Butterfly House

Needless to say, we have watched Barney (or at least the last 5 minutes of) several times since that incident. I'm not ashamed of my ulterior motives at all. As a matter of fact, this afternoon we were eating lunch and I turned on PBS because it was time for Barney. Much to my dismay (a phrase I never thought I would write) Barney was not on. I checked the listings online and it looks like Barney and Friends is no longer part of the daily lineup. It made me a little sad. Good thing you have me to sing it to you.

whee!

Love,

Mom-mom

growing up—16 months

Dear Gideon,

It's hard to believe that in less than two months you will be a year and a half old. Time is going by so quickly and in the blink of an eye you'll be all grown up. It really is difficult to imagine life without you in it, as if life before Gideon is a distant memory. Those days have made me who I am today but every one of these last 512 days has been more because of your place in it.

16 months—July 24, 2008

As always, you've done lots of new things this past month. Your vocabulary has really increased and each week you master new words. I adore the way you say "Hi" and "Bye" with and give a little hand wave with them.


You have learned to climb up the slide and go down by yourself. First by running down the slide without a care that you would land flat on your face if Daddy and I weren't there to catch you. And then learning to sit on your butt. You still get caught up if you're bare foot but we're working on that. Just remember to lift your feet.



One of the cutest things you've done this month was relayed to me by your Dad. One evening Daddy grabbed the camera and said, "Come here Gideon. Take your picture with Daddy." You proceeded to run over to him, put your arm around his shoulder, and when he pointed the camera at the two of you and said, "Say cheese", you went, "Cheese". Several times. This shouldn't surprise me for two reasons. One: we take a lot of pictures of you. Two: we eat a lot of cheese.


We like to do the itsy bitsy spider together. You really only do the spider part but that's enough for me. Any more and the cuteness might just blind me. You love to color and freak out with excitement if you see the container of crayons. Once you spy them there is no changing your mind as to what you want to do. MUST COLOR NOW.


You learned to drink out of a straw this month and think that is just too cool. This is the type of thing that just wows me. How do you teach somebody to drink out of a straw. You can't really and yet here you are doing it on your own. You've transitioned so effortlessly from a bottle to a sippy cup that I shouldn't be surprised. But that's one of the wonders of who you are. You never cease to amaze me.


Each day that I get to be with you teaches me something. How to be patient—especially after telling you to stop unrolling the toilet paper for the hundredth time. How much love there is in the world—my heart has expanded in ways I never knew possible. What the world looks like when you are just three feet tall—which can be pretty scary when there are dogs bigger than you eagerly trying to lick your face. The world is a pretty amazing place when you look at it with fresh eyes. How lucky I am that you've given me this gift.


Love and kisses,
Momma

growing up—15 months

Dear Gideon,
Today you had your 15 month well baby check-up. Just as she always does, Dr. K said you are "growing beautifully". That's no surprise to me, I'm lucky enough to be your Mom and get to watch you grow beautifully every single day. You currently weigh 22 lb. 5 oz. and are 32 inches tall. You've had quite the growth spurt as that is a lot taller than you were just 3 months ago.

15 months—June 24, 2008

At the beginning of last month you started grabbing hold of our fingers and guiding us to some destination to perform for you. Whether it's to the piano on your round-about, to one of Daddy's guitars to play a tune, to the cupboard for snacks, or over to books that you want read, how can I refuse? I can't. If you aren't getting a satisfactory response by pulling on our fingers (hehehe...insert fart joke here)—or if our hands aren't conveniently located you'll grab anything you can to get us up (toes, shirts, heads).

You are super expressive and make some of the cutest faces. The "no" face with the pursed lips. The way you sign "all done" and "more". Even that deeply focused look of curiosity. All so adorable. You've started saying "awwww"and at all the right moments. You'll point to something that you like—like a dog—and say "awwww" in a tone that says, "Look Mom. Isn't this just so precious?" I wish we had it on video because it is just that cute. You're saying a lot of words now and some of your favorites are "Mama", "Dada", "boon" (for balloon), "book", and "owsigh" (for outside).

Faces like these are the reason we take so many pictures.

I'm still nursing you once a day—when you first wake up for the morning. It's the last bit of what has been a really special time for us and I'm having a hard time letting it go. Even typing this brings tears to my eyes. I know there are many people who would shake their heads in disapproval at the fact that I'm still nursing you after a year but I really don't care what they think. This may be the only time in my life that I get to experience such an intimate natural thing and I'm not going to let societal norms take that away from me. I can feel that the end is near though. This month you offered your stuffed monkey some milk one morning while nursing. Very generous, but the only monkey I'm nursing is you.

Some sort of sleeping mechanism finally clicked inside of you over the last month or so. I now have the pleasure of raising a child who takes a 2 hour nap in the morning and another 1 hour nap in the afternoon. Without the aid of being rocked to sleep. I'm also finally getting to experience sleeping through the night again. You go to bed around 7:30 each night and sleep for a glorious 11 or 12 hours. Thank you.


I still have not conceded to a haircut for you. Once we make that initial cut your baby hair will be gone and it will never be the same. I'm sure you're a little hot with that mop right now but it's just so cute. The way it curls up on the sides and in the back. I love it. I had said that I would cut your hair when people started saying, "She's so cute." Well…I'm a liar. I've been told that 3 times in the last month and I'm not budging on the haircut. I just say, "He's a boy, but thank you". Polite but to the point. You don't look like a girl, you're just so beautiful with that red hair and those blue eyes. As the old lady at the hot dog stand said to us last week, "He's just too pretty to be a boy." She meant it as a compliment. I swear.

See. It's not too long.

You love to be outside and are fascinated with picking peas in the garden. Just the other day you followed me into the garden, sidled past the tomatoes, shimmied up to the trellis and yanked a pea off the vine. You must have only gotten half of it because the next thing I see is you taking a bite of the pea part that was still hanging on the vine. When I showed your Dad later we could see your little teeth marks in the bit of pea still dangling there.

Another, umm… milestone this month was the first ever pooping in the tub. Fifteen months and we never had a turd bath. Hopefully this can be a one time thing. I was lucky enough to be at work when it happened but your Dad called me as soon as you and the tub were properly sanitized. I laughed, glad it didn't happen to me. I appreciate it.

I imagine you'll make this face again in 20 years when you're drunk telling your buddy how glad you are to be such good friends.

You aren't the only one who is growing. People are genuinely affected by you. At your Uncle Alex's graduation party a few weeks ago you were eating some of your Crunchie snacks. Phil was holding you at the time and you were insistent that he try one. Now, Phil is notorious for being extremely picky with his food and he did not want to eat that snack treat. But you would not give up—shoving it right into his mouth as soon as you had a chance. Phil was a trooper and ate it. It was a big day for him and I was oddly proud that he was a trooper and ate it even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He did it because of you. You are just that special to him.

You're the best.
Love,
Momma