Happy 20 Month Birthday!
Dear Connor,
Today you turned 20 months old. And in the past month, life has slipped by so fast that I wonder if I can possibly remember all the new things you’ve done. For starters, you can correctly and consistently identify robins, cardinals, and blue jays in the yard. Once you have mourning dove down, you’ll pretty much have my birding knowledge exhausted, so we’ll have to turn to a book to further expand your repertoire. You know that a robin eats worms and birds go “twee twee twee” – except a crow which goes “cah cah cah”.
I’ve gone from being “mama” to “mommy”. Likewise, “dada” has become “daddy”. Shortly after the transition, your dad remarked that he was sort of sad about the passage of “dada” because it was such a concrete sign that you were growing up. We also weaned, which has been easier than I expected it to be though you still look up at me, get this huge grin, and say “nursin’?” on occasion.
Your favorite accessory this month is this little stretchy necklace with hearts on it. I pity the child that comes between you and that necklace. I think it is the one toy you would throw down over, and I think even with a size disadvantage, you might win. Typically, you are a pretty mild mannered child when it comes to toys. You get a bit annoyed when other children take your toys, but if you get a bit too excited and take something in use, you’ll almost always hand it back with the assurance that your turn is coming. Earlier this month we met the very nicest boy ever on the playground. He had two trucks and you walked right up to him and said “Connor truck” and smiled at him and apparently you said it with such authority or charm that this little boy was compelled to give you one of his trucks. I suggested you offer him one of your two tigers in return (which you did), but he didn’t realize how cool the tigers were so you got to keep both tigers AND the truck. Wow – what a deal. We also met a little girl who didn’t appreciate you caring for her doll, even though she had abandoned it in her stroller. The little girl about popped a gasket when she saw you head over to the abandoned baby in the stroller and give it a hug. Her nanny took the doll from you without much comment and put it back in the stroller, and rather than punching the nanny in the face, I tried to cover for her brash behavior and said that apparently it was the dolly’s naptime and she needed to sleep in the stroller. This seemed to be a satisfactory explanation to you about why you weren’t allowed to care for that lonely, unattended dolly. This child and nanny didn’t seem to get that at our park, unattended toys are fair game. Of course, when the mean girl started playing with one of your unused toys, we let her. Maybe next time she’ll be nicer.
Further solidifying your roll as “old man”, you have taken to begging your dad and I to play “car” which means you sit in the front seat, play with the stick shift and whatever knobs and dials you can get your hands on. I still do not fully comprehend why your dad allowed this in the first place, but when I don’t feel like playing the most boring game in the world, I simply tell you that you have to wait until Daddy comes home and then you dutifully beg him to play when you next see him and more often than not, the two of you go on a Sunday drive right in the driveway. Perhaps you should talk to your Aunt Linda about driving before you’re legally able to do so. I don’t know all the details, but suffice it to say, I was a baby – and she decided to take us cruising, which fortunately ended with nothing more tragic than the bending of a street sign. I will admit I allowed you to play your boring game one day when I drove to a neighbor’s house to pick up a roto-tiller. I knew it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to wheel the thing around to the front yard and load it into the car with you running in all directions, so I simply rolled down the windows so I could hear you if you hollered loud enough, locked the doors, and left you unattended for a few minutes while I found the small machine and then loaded it into the car. No child protective agencies were involved, thankfully.
Your dad has proclaimed that you desperately need a haircut (he even suggested a “summer buzz cut”) but I think using a comb would go a long way, and I’d like to try that strategy first. I suspect you will be a bit hostile towards both. But, even if we do go to a professional to trim some of your curls, unless something goes terribly awry - you need not worry about the summer buzz cut your dad spoke about. It is definitely not your style.
About the only sound that still trips you up is an “l” sound in the middle of the word as in “Kellee” or “stroller”. But, even words with this characteristic can be understood by trained ears. You have jumped from two word phrases to three word phrases, which means now you can say “Mommy carry you” instead of just “carry you”. Pronouns are not working out for you just yet.
You took over the basement officially when your dad and I took down the pool table, though I suspect you’ll miss walking around the pool table and trying to frighten me by launching pool balls off it. You’ve added a couple of letters to the ones you’ve already known, and now you’re willing to admit that some letters can be shared by more than one person. When we went to Colorado, Grandma tried to convince you the “Mama” and “Michael” shared the same letter – but you would make her draw two “Ms” each time, insisting that one was Mama (the first one) and the other one could be for Michael if she insisted. This morning, I asked you whose letter “R” was and you said “Rani” and then “Ruth”. The letters you recognize are: C – Connor; D – Daddy; I – Isabella; M – Mommy / Michael; R – Rani / Ruth; Z – Zoe and sometimes T – Tiger and A – Alice / Amanda. Wow!
Love,
Mommy
PS: Making it just under the wire for 20 months, you said what I believe is your first complete sentence this evening while Daddy was cooking dinner. It was a command, surprise. "Daddy, turn the mixer off." He complied.
Today you turned 20 months old. And in the past month, life has slipped by so fast that I wonder if I can possibly remember all the new things you’ve done. For starters, you can correctly and consistently identify robins, cardinals, and blue jays in the yard. Once you have mourning dove down, you’ll pretty much have my birding knowledge exhausted, so we’ll have to turn to a book to further expand your repertoire. You know that a robin eats worms and birds go “twee twee twee” – except a crow which goes “cah cah cah”.
I’ve gone from being “mama” to “mommy”. Likewise, “dada” has become “daddy”. Shortly after the transition, your dad remarked that he was sort of sad about the passage of “dada” because it was such a concrete sign that you were growing up. We also weaned, which has been easier than I expected it to be though you still look up at me, get this huge grin, and say “nursin’?” on occasion.
Your favorite accessory this month is this little stretchy necklace with hearts on it. I pity the child that comes between you and that necklace. I think it is the one toy you would throw down over, and I think even with a size disadvantage, you might win. Typically, you are a pretty mild mannered child when it comes to toys. You get a bit annoyed when other children take your toys, but if you get a bit too excited and take something in use, you’ll almost always hand it back with the assurance that your turn is coming. Earlier this month we met the very nicest boy ever on the playground. He had two trucks and you walked right up to him and said “Connor truck” and smiled at him and apparently you said it with such authority or charm that this little boy was compelled to give you one of his trucks. I suggested you offer him one of your two tigers in return (which you did), but he didn’t realize how cool the tigers were so you got to keep both tigers AND the truck. Wow – what a deal. We also met a little girl who didn’t appreciate you caring for her doll, even though she had abandoned it in her stroller. The little girl about popped a gasket when she saw you head over to the abandoned baby in the stroller and give it a hug. Her nanny took the doll from you without much comment and put it back in the stroller, and rather than punching the nanny in the face, I tried to cover for her brash behavior and said that apparently it was the dolly’s naptime and she needed to sleep in the stroller. This seemed to be a satisfactory explanation to you about why you weren’t allowed to care for that lonely, unattended dolly. This child and nanny didn’t seem to get that at our park, unattended toys are fair game. Of course, when the mean girl started playing with one of your unused toys, we let her. Maybe next time she’ll be nicer.
Further solidifying your roll as “old man”, you have taken to begging your dad and I to play “car” which means you sit in the front seat, play with the stick shift and whatever knobs and dials you can get your hands on. I still do not fully comprehend why your dad allowed this in the first place, but when I don’t feel like playing the most boring game in the world, I simply tell you that you have to wait until Daddy comes home and then you dutifully beg him to play when you next see him and more often than not, the two of you go on a Sunday drive right in the driveway. Perhaps you should talk to your Aunt Linda about driving before you’re legally able to do so. I don’t know all the details, but suffice it to say, I was a baby – and she decided to take us cruising, which fortunately ended with nothing more tragic than the bending of a street sign. I will admit I allowed you to play your boring game one day when I drove to a neighbor’s house to pick up a roto-tiller. I knew it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to wheel the thing around to the front yard and load it into the car with you running in all directions, so I simply rolled down the windows so I could hear you if you hollered loud enough, locked the doors, and left you unattended for a few minutes while I found the small machine and then loaded it into the car. No child protective agencies were involved, thankfully.
Your dad has proclaimed that you desperately need a haircut (he even suggested a “summer buzz cut”) but I think using a comb would go a long way, and I’d like to try that strategy first. I suspect you will be a bit hostile towards both. But, even if we do go to a professional to trim some of your curls, unless something goes terribly awry - you need not worry about the summer buzz cut your dad spoke about. It is definitely not your style.
About the only sound that still trips you up is an “l” sound in the middle of the word as in “Kellee” or “stroller”. But, even words with this characteristic can be understood by trained ears. You have jumped from two word phrases to three word phrases, which means now you can say “Mommy carry you” instead of just “carry you”. Pronouns are not working out for you just yet.
You took over the basement officially when your dad and I took down the pool table, though I suspect you’ll miss walking around the pool table and trying to frighten me by launching pool balls off it. You’ve added a couple of letters to the ones you’ve already known, and now you’re willing to admit that some letters can be shared by more than one person. When we went to Colorado, Grandma tried to convince you the “Mama” and “Michael” shared the same letter – but you would make her draw two “Ms” each time, insisting that one was Mama (the first one) and the other one could be for Michael if she insisted. This morning, I asked you whose letter “R” was and you said “Rani” and then “Ruth”. The letters you recognize are: C – Connor; D – Daddy; I – Isabella; M – Mommy / Michael; R – Rani / Ruth; Z – Zoe and sometimes T – Tiger and A – Alice / Amanda. Wow!
Love,
Mommy
PS: Making it just under the wire for 20 months, you said what I believe is your first complete sentence this evening while Daddy was cooking dinner. It was a command, surprise. "Daddy, turn the mixer off." He complied.
posted by Elaine at 9:08 PM
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