Letter
25 Months Old
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Dear Carlita,
I know I missed your birthday month, and I was this-close to not writing this month’s letter as well. It’s not that you are not worth writing for and about, it’s more that I don’t know how to articulate this period of your life - there are no major physical transformations, except your hair is getting longer, and so the changes we are experiencing are mostly of a spiritual nature. It’s hard to put into words, because “I feel closer to you” somehow implies that we weren’t close enough to begin with. You are my child and I love you no matter what, but lately I have been feeling closer to you.
Maybe it’s your age and having the kind of mindset that comes with it, something I can somewhat relate to and work with that has made it easier for both of us to click. And yet it’s hard. It’s hard each and every day, and I don’t do that well on even half of those days, nearly all nights ending with me telling myself that tomorrow is another day, I can try harder tomorrow. I know the day is coming where I have to get you out into the world, because you are depressingly under-stimulated here at home with me, alone. It’s just you and me until your dad comes home. You deserve more fun in your day-to-day life, and as hard as I try, that tomorrow where I can be all those things for you is not going to come.
There is no other fix for that than to try harder, but when even that does not cut it maybe it’s time to look for something better. I don’t know what that thing will be, or when we would be able to afford it but I know the day is coming, even though lately you and I have really clicked. I love being your mother, I need you to know that.
You love the lake, you love water puddles, balloons, rocks, your books, the cats, you could spend hours in the bath, you adore any clothing that is pink or purple and, controversially, you love coffee. You wouldn’t touch a baby doll with a stick, and you still fight sleep tooth and nail (just like your father. Still.) You have thrown your first official toddler tantrum, and I had to squelch the urge to laugh, failing miserably. I am so sorry. Surprisingly your growing independence is just the thing that makes our mother/daughter relationship that much better.
And even though saying this might make it seem like I am the most ungrateful mother on earth, I just can’t wait to have actual conversations with you, to know what is on your mind and sharing my own. As much as I miss the baby years I can not wait to see what we have ahead of us. It’s all so very bitter sweet.
Two Years Old
Thursday, July 31, 2008
So much to say, and not enough words.
23 Months Old
Monday, June 30, 2008
I feel like I’m having to struggle to recall anything remarkable about you, or us as a family lately - but I think it’s because it has all been remarkable, and all of it worth remembering. The purpose of all these letters to you have been to document your early life, from me being pregnant, to giving birth, to raising you. I wanted to document your transition from newborn to baby to toddler to child. Sitting here now, I feel like I have failed utterly because it was just yesterday that I was fretting about you taking forever to roll from your stomach to your back, or from your back to your stomach (you should know, your mother is not all that picky), and now I’m having the same internal dialogue, and slight worries, about your speech.
Somewhere along the way I went to sleep next to a baby and woke up next to a child, and it’s confusing. I don’t know how to feel about that. I miss my baby, and yet it’s all consuming and exciting to see the person you are becoming. But one thing I know for sure is; You make me a better person, merely by being in my life. Right now your dad is reading The very hungry caterpillar out loud to you, and if you’d known your dad as long as I have, you’d know as well as I do that that is proof you make him a better person, too.
One thing that is becoming more and more apparent is that you like rules. We are a pretty lax household, but I do set limits, and to my surprise you tend to follow our rules pretty well. For example, you can now open the front door if it is not locked - you have actually been able to do this for a couple of months now - but you don’t. You don’t just wander away on your own. Except if I help you get your shoes on, then all bets are off, cause shoes means we are going out, right?
You are also good with utensils. You have been able to feed yourself with a spoon since you were 1, and you seem to be very serious about the usage of forks and spoons with your meals. If I sat you down to eat soup with a fork or gave you a steak and a spoon, you’d probably look at it for a while and go ‘OK, so lets figure out how to do this..’ And since we are on the topic of food, I might as well tell you that you haven’t inherited your dad’s love of my cooking, and that anything out of a jar is better than any of my blood-sweat-and-tears three course dinners any day. Can you please explain this to me, little lady?
Also, your hair is getting longer. You still sport somewhat of a mullet, but ponytails and pigtails are now a possibility, and I take full advantage of that. You don’t seem to mind my combing your hair and pulling it this way and that, as long as you get to watch some tv at the same time.
And lastly, your sleeping habits are pretty awesome by now. You are down to one nap in the afternoon, but it’s short. You still need it, though, and I’d be slightly panicky if you decide to drop that too. Night time is what is really amazing, and it took around six months to get to this point, but we now have a routine where we all spend some time on the bed (or if your dad is working late, you and I do it alone) and shoot the breeze for a while. Read a few books (except not - you are too impatient to sit through a story - around page 3 you pull the book out of our hands and start leafing through it yourself) and then we shower you with kisses, tell you we love you just about a million times and then we leave you to fall asleep on your own. For months I’d have to go fetch you from the guinea pig’s room and put you back in bed many times each night, but now you stay put. You even put the lights out yourself when you are ready to sleep, which, wow…
Carlita, there are hardly words for what I want to say to you. How do I describe what I feel when you put my face between your hands and pull me close to your face so I can give you a kiss? How do I explain what it’s like to feel your little arms being shoved in under my body in the middle of the night when you want a little closeness? Love is just a little four letter word, but you, you are so much more to us than that. You are our love personified and there are no words in this world that could do you justice.
22 Months Old
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
The “terrible two’s” are just are just around the corner, and I’ll be damned if we haven’t noticed. The highs are even higher, the lows.. well, lets just say you have a knack for driving us mad - with love and a whole lot of frustration. One could argue there is a direct correlation between how madly we love you, and how mad you drive us.
You still aren’t talking as much as babbling nonsense, with a couple of real words thrown in for good measure. Sometimes I swear I hear a word, like “book” or “mor*”, but so far nothing sticks for too long. I’m eager for you to start talking, any day now, but I also realize that you will need more time to get it all in, and not just because you’re learning three languages, but because I’ve been less than good about narrating our days for you, the way I know you’re supposed to. I’ve been trying to step up my game a lot lately, and we’re making progress, so that’s good.
*Mor is danish for Mum
You are just as obsessed with animals as ever, but you are also finally showing an interest in stuffed animals. I’ve been hoping you’d pick something to be your lovey, but even though you now cuddle the occasional teddy bear they don’t compete with Negrita, who is your preferred victim of the three cats - if only because she is the only one not to bolt in the opposite direction when she hears you coming.
I must say, of all the things that are changing about you, I find your night time doziness the most hilarious. The other night I heard a thud in the darkness, and then nothing. My instincts kicked in and I got up to investigate. You had fallen face first onto the floor, your fall softened by spare blankets strewn around the bed, and you didn’t even wake up when I picked your lifeless body up and placed it back in bed. As a baby you’d wake from any little squeak the bed made, and now this..
Balls and balloons rule your world - the word “No” is your arch-nemesis. You no longer eat bananas. You love water. You love ice cream more..
But not as much as I love you.
