Wanderlust

Letters to the O

Eighteen Months

This past month you have grown in a terrifying, destructive machine- able to create a whirlwind of chaos in sixty seconds. Since I began typing this just a short sentence ago, you went from goofing around in bed with Dad, to attempting to pull the blinds down in the living room. Now you are scavenging around in the pantry, pulling out the bagful of raisins as you toddle over to me. "Raisins... raisins???" When I tell you to put them back, you walk back over and in your attempt to shove them back into the pantry, you dislodge a vinyl lunchbox that promptly clubs you on the head. A torrent of shocked tears follows, and now you are back in the pantry, fussing to get some grahams or cheerios from the top shelf. This is the way it goes, a constant battle between independence and need. Two steps forward, one step back.

The advantage to this is that you are a hell of a lot of fun. It seems as though we can literally see you evolving mentally a minute at a time. You build block towers and laugh outrageously when they fall. You stand up on the changing table with your diaper off and give yourself kisses in the mirror. When you're ready for breakfast you slip down from the side of the bed, walk over to the door and begin banging on it until someone opens it. The you toddle into the living room, pick out cereal from the pantry and climb into your own highchair, attempting to strap yourself in.

I don't mind encouraging all this independence except that it seems to lend itself to a certain amount of stubbornness as well. But you are excellent at asking for assistance "Elp, peese?" and excruciatingly polite. Every dish you hand me from the dishwasher to put away is accompanied by a "Dank you!" When you melt into tears and petulant, frustrated cries I merely remind you, "What do you need to say?" And you wreathe yourself in smiles and request what you want easily, as if you have forgotten the wonderful power of speech and it's ability to get you things.

My favorite moment this month was when I came home from my meetings and you and Dad were taking a nap together in our bed. I crawled between the covers and you rolled over and nuzzled into me, as if I had always been there. And when you finally woke up you lay on me for a long time, quietly saying "hmmmmm...." and smiling. And then you lifted your head up and called me "Daddy." Thanks, kid. I love you, too.

Posted by Kaz at July 22, 2007 8:54 AM