« From Abby: Employed! | Main | Myabetic: The Champ. »

Twenty.

My lovely Bird,

There's something about my travel schedule that has these weeks passing faster than I'd like.  I've been on a trip a week for the last three months, and I feel like every time I come home, you look different. 

"Oh Mama! Hi!"  You greet me as though we're meeting for the first time, always with a big smile and a wave of your chubby little wrist.

Actually, the chubby-little-baby phase is past.  I realize that every time I look at your picture or give you a big hug.  You are fast-becoming a little girl, one that reaches up to hold my hand when we go up the stairs towards the front door, but pulls back when you're sure of your footing.  Fiercely-independent, you are, and it's evidenced in everything you do.  "Socks!"  And you want to put on your own socks.  (Usually a long and painstaking process, involving you trying to ball up the sock to fit onto your big toe.  Then, "Ta-da!") 

You want to get your own book, pick out your own pajamas ("Do you want the monkey jammies?"  "Eeeee!! Eeeeee!" as you pretend to scratch your armpits.), and buckle yourself into your car seat.  You want to do. it. yourself, and I'm amazed at how much of myself I see in you as you furrow your brow stubbornly and try.

Oh, and those poor kitties.  You love them.  You LOVE them, and you want to smush your face into their bellies while they sleep.  Their feet?  Their tails?  Their eyes?  Noses?  You want to pet it all, asking "What's that?" and then repeating the answer softly to yourself. 

"That's Siah's tail." 

"Size tay-el," you mutter, reaching for the gray mass.

Birdy and "Size."

They remain remarkably patient with you.  You're like the cat whisperer, only you don't whisper.  Usually, you chase after them with your pink, plastic shopping cart, sealing my theory that you're en route to becoming the crazy cat lady ... already.

And you are crazy.  Crazy in all the ways that make me laugh.  You are silly.  You make weird faces and you give big hugs and you are not afraid to ask for faffles in the middle of the night.  (And we aren't afraid to make them, either.)  You read books out loud, in your special, Birdy Language which includes insane hand gestures and a full two-octave vocal range, and sometimes a tutu.  Your favorite songs this month are Coldplay's "Paradise" and anything by Jay-Z.  And your tantrums are this strange, braided dance of spastic kicking feet and a sideways glance to make sure I'm watching.

"Birdy, you are going in time out."  And I put you in the time out chair, turning my back to you so I can count to ten.  "One ... two ... three ... four ..." and as I count, I hear your chiming in and counting with me, giggling excitedly when we get to ten.  And sometimes it takes me until "twelve" or "thirteen" to stop smiling enough to turn back around.   

When I'm away from you, I miss you.  And when I'm with you, and you snuggle up beside me and pat my face and say, "Hi, Mommy," and I fall in love with you all over again.

You're only twenty months old today, my love, and I have no recollection of life before you.  In my heart, I've always been your mama.  And that feels right.

Love you so much,
Mommy

Comments

You are so good to share this journey with us. Brings back so many memories for me. When Leigh was that size, it was all about the B-52s. She had a little routine to each song. One involved me waiting on the couch, her around the corner until Fred the male lead said -- in the song "here come the girls! Here come the girls!" at which point Leigh would saunter into the room. She also knew ALL the words to "Wild wild west" (She's so mean, I don't care . . I love her eyes and her WILD WILD Hair .. . ) and thanks to my sister to Double Dutch Bus (yeah....her language skills were advanced tee hee) For Lauren it was 'Free . . . .free fallin!"

Thank you for making me remember such a lovely time. You have so many, many more ahead of you.

Happy 20th month, Birdy! (and that hat is aDORable!)

Adam is sitting in my lap and just insisted that lion hat photo was a picture of him playing. And I'm sensing a little Percy-envy. He's a mighty fine train.

also, very sweet post. your daughter is adorable.

These monthly letters you write to BSparl are just ... they're just precious. I wish my parents had done that with me. I wish I could read their words now. The gift you are giving that beautiful girl is impossible to explain in a comment box. She sure is a lucky girl to have a mama who writes beautifully about the love your family shares.

And faffles? I'd like some too, please. ;-)

Yup. I'm officially your free babysitter anytime we are close enough location wise. So if the Sparling clan ever makes it to Dallas, you know who to call when you want a night out with the hubby. :D

Every time I think I am really and truly slain, I rise again just so Birdy can slaughter me with her cuteness. That KID.

awww.

when my kid was 2 she graduated from wanting to pick out her jammies to picking out every outfit every day, so you've got that to look forward to. :)

Kerri, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I must say I am less interested in your blog lately, it is more travel and advocacy and less how you are living a normal D life. I love you because you are what my daughter can become, but you are sharing less of that. Enjoy that girl and your guy during this season. Hugs. Carol

Post a comment

(All comments are moderated. Thanks for your patience!)