Dear James,
Someday I hope to share all of this with you.
With that being said, I need to tell you that I never intended to stop writing the way I did. Life just got turned upside down during this busy period at work for me. Add the new addition of your Uncle Ian and Aunt Courtney to the mix and most days have been more activity and visitors than we have ever had in the entire time we've lived in Virginia.
You, by the way, have been awesome. I will always believe that children know who to trust because you talk and show off to them more than anyone else outside of your great grandparents and grandpa Tom. They think you are a really well-behaved toddler, and that is true 99% of the time.
About that 1%: it's all out of frustration on your part. You still refuse to talk most of the time, and even when you are desperate to get us to do something for you it is like pulling teeth to get much out of you. We know you know the words. How? Because you point at things, waiting for us to say what it is, and if we don't say the right word you get mad and shake your head. Prime example is your sippy cup. If you point at the straw, Daddy will say straw. You do not accept this answer, will shake your head, and if Daddy doesn't make the connection that you wanted him to say "cup", then all hell breaks loose. We have had to learn your words for things, and for the most part it works because we use the adult words and you accept them.
You are intrigued by letters and numbers. Super Why has always been your favorite thing to have on in the background, and suddenly 2 weeks ago you began really showing that you are paying attention. You recognize "o", "a", and sometimes "e". When other letters come on the screen you now point at them and insist that someone say them for you. This has made us both giggle on occasions, especially because you sound like you are from Boston with the way you pronounce things.
This has lead to you having a new love of your books. You want to point at letters and numbers and have us tell you what they are. We make you tell us the ones we know that you know, and you will play along if only for the applaud and praise.
In September we began going to a Mommy and Me play date group on Mondays. It's 1 hour a week, but it's just enough and you are enjoying most of the activities. The coloring is something you are loving more and more, and you run through the gym, playing with balls and the parachute, as if you've always done it. I've managed to get you on the ride on toys a few times, and you are slowly getting the hang of it. Another triumph for parenting!
The flip side of that triumph is my needing to apologize for the swim lessons.
Your Uncle Barry in Texas has always had a way with words. Some of the sayings he has shared throughout the years have made me giggle, and until we went to Tiny Bubbles I never truly appreciated when he said leading Mommy and her friends through Las Vegas was like herding cats.
One teacher, 10 kids from the age of 18 months to 3 years, and their parents in a pool. Most of the kids had never done this, but had been to the rec center to play in the kiddie area, and that lead to disaster as that was not open during lessons. Definitely like herding cats.
I've learned some basics on what to teach you, and maybe when you are older if you need formal training we will try it again. For now it's more important to just let you play on the slide in the pool for 45 minutes and not harass you. We all win that way.
Last week, out of nowhere, you jumped. As in you were standing in the living room, and suddenly you squatted down and launched yourself up with this wicked grin. Now we can ask you to hop and you will do it and giggle. I still don't know what prompted you to do this. Though, now that I think about it, you do like to launch yourself when you are up on a bed....
That has to be a boy thing. You want to leap and jump off everything. Including the couch. On your knees. I'm prepared for broken limbs. You are a boy and it will happen. But you are going to put Daddy in an early grave if this continues.
You have discovered a love of playing in play tents and that prompted us to attach the tent to your toddler bed. Which has been the greatest thing ever as far as you are concerned. We now have to remove a good chunk of your toys from your bed for naps because you like climbing in there with everything you own in order to play.
Lately all you have wanted to take to bed with you is your Leap Top and a truck. I mention this because both are battery operated and make noise. And you have rolled over onto these things in your sleep twice now, only to be awakened and ready to play rather than go back to sleep.
Both times were at way-too-early o'clock, and so I've take you to the spare room and climbed into the bed there to get you back to sleep.
We never co-slept because I didn't want to have to train you to sleep alone after having to train you to sleep with us. These early mornings mess with both of our sleep schedules, but after you fall asleep again next to me we both get at least 2 more hours of rest.
Then comes the waking up to you snuggled in next to me, watching you sleep and look so peaceful. And then when you do open your eyes and see me there you get the most amazing smile on your face. We wake up and have tickle fights and giggles, and you play with my hair and just look like you are in heaven.
We had one of those mornings yesterday, and I was amazed at how much I love you. It's been 30 months today since we welcomed you into our lives, and I can't believe you weren't here all along.
I promise to try and write more, to chronicle more of our lives together. Next month you will get time with your Uncle Ed and then what I think will be the first Christmas you will really enjoy. I plan to show you how to jump in puddles, and there will be time outside in the snow.
I just need you to stay little a little while longer, okay?
I love you, baby.
Love,
Mama
