Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Months 14 and 15 & 40 and 41.
Dear Helen and Connor,
You might be wondering what happened this month and last month and you know what? So am I. You did, as you might expect, mark another two months off the calendar - for as much as I wish for time to stand still some days, it doesn't. I could tell you that nothing remarkable happened these past two months, but I doubt you'd believe me on that. So, what did happen?
For starters, I worked uncharacteristically long hours after you went to bed, which seriously cut into my blogging time. And on top of that, every last item in our house had to be packed up and moved to our new house, and then for that past 9 days, I've spent almost every waking hour in the evening unpacking boxes. And do you know what? The two of you have a lot of crap. A lot. I would like to get rid of a lot of old toys, but I am resisting that temptation because I know the move has been a bit hard on both of you, and at least Connor can express great adoration for his things - and losing them can be very upsetting. So for now, I'm unpacking all your mounds of crap and piling it on shelves in the Rompus Room (basement playroom), the closet in the new hangout space (it is glorious!), a large portion of the kitchen (which now houses your kitchen from your grandparents which is as awesome as I thought it would be and gets played with a lot), and next I will add some things to your bedrooms. After that, I am hoping you run out of things because we will be about out of space.
Connor, in January you started attending a 3-morning kindergarten at the Waldorf school we have been attending 1 morning each week for the past year and a half. Already, I miss our time there a bit (even your dad admits being there was a really peaceful way to spend some time each week). You never hesitate to enter the classroom and seem happy when you are picked up. Since the first day or so, you've taken to telling me the following details about your school. "There are no other children there. There aren't even any teachers. I'm all alone." One day, you even added that your dad forgot to drop you off so you had to walk there and you were really cold. I would feel sad for you, except Jordan's mom tells me repeatedly how Jordan talks about you at home all the time and Keegan's mom told me that he reported "I have a new friend in class. His name is Connor. He can talk." so I figure you must be mixing with the other kids somewhat. I also know that Maya is always happy to see you and Anza enjoys having you around as well.
You have taken this move a lot better than I expected. For starters, you've been able to sleep in your room without too much drama. The first couple of nights, your dad slept up there too (there were, after all, three beds in there) but after that, Daddy moved the beds out of there (except for yours, of course) and you've been waking a bit early, but nothing too crazy. You've enjoyed cooking in your kitchen, making sure Helen doesn't attempt to get on the three sets of steps without an adult escort, spackling the au pair's room, and the craft room. Oh, the craft room. It's a shared dream of ours, Connor, to be able to craft without having to worry about others in our business, and now we can. It's fabulous. The only rules are "no painting without telling an adult first" and "craft projects stay in the room". So far, so good. Possibly the best thing about the move was borrowing our friend Dave's truck. You got to sit in the front seat with your carseat (totally legal) and you were amazed at all the dashboard lights.
You caught your first stomach bug, and that was awful. For everyone. If I didn't believe in breastfeeding before, I do now. On Saturday, Helen greeted me at the early hour of 5:00. She ate like a truck driver, and then fell back asleep. But then she woke up 30 minutes later and spilled her cookies - three times - all over me. (Why is it that you kids look to me when you're about to hurl?) Anyway, this was surprising, but given that Helen puked for much of her first year of life, it's not so far out of the norm to cause panic. But you, Connor, have a stomach of steel, and you woke up at 7 and started puking. Only Helen stopped after that first little round but you didn't. For 1.5 days, everything that went in, came back out. You did seem to like the juice and jell-o diet that the pediatrician's book recommended, but it was still very sad. At the end though, you have a new skill. You can actually get to a trashcan or toilet when you need to throw up. That was not the case at the beginning of the illness. But dude, earlier in the month at David's birthday party, you showed us you had "moves" and I'm certain those moves will be back very soon.
You have been crafting up a storm, focusing primarily on the cutting and painting arts. I can only assume that you are preparing to have a ticker tape parade for me some day with all the little pieces of construction paper you are making. The only downside to your painting is that Helen wants to paint. And Helen is not old enough to paint. Only, Helen does what Helen wants to do, so Helen paints. And I clean up the mess.
Which brings me to you, Helen. You are one stubborn little lady and when you need to get a point across, you do. Your language has absolutely exploded over the past two months. You can say duck, dog, nose, sock, shoe, pizza, cup, and up - and you even say "cheese" whenever I take out my camera - and I'm sure I'm missing many here, but my note taking this month was not as good as it could have been. You play a game where you say "mama, dada" and then instead of saying Connor, you light up with a small and point to him - wherever he is.
You adore your brother. And these past few days he's been a bit low energy, and you haven't been, and this isn't always the best combination because you go running up to him, pat him on the head, and want him to play - only he doesn't want to play, and he usually lets you know by telling you to go away. Although sometimes you convince him to play. You enjoy cooking on your new stove, climbing up the step stools in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet (you even wave bye-bye to the imaginary poo or pee you believe you have deposited in the toilet).
You are the snuggliest person in the world and give hugs and kisses to anyone. You will even sit on just about anyone's lap. A few days ago, we were at music class and another mom smiled at you and you went right over and sat on her lap. She looked at you and said "did you get me confused for your mommy?" and you pointed to me, laughed and waved, and I explained to the other mom that you just liked sitting on everyone's lap. You wave and say "bye-bye" to everyone, and at night you always give your dad a hug and kiss before I toss you in bed.
You have also become quite accomplished with a fork and spoon. In this respect, you remind me a lot of your cousin Katie who by sheer determination can accomplish most anything. I was helping you and Connor with lunch at an indoor playspace and at some point, I guess you decided you wanted to eat faster than I could serve, so you promptly picked up a fork and ate every piece of strawberry and pineapple that was near you. Another mom said "wow, she's really good with a fork" and I said "Oh, she's older than she looks" and the other mom said "she's 15 months. Exactly the same age as my child who has never even looked at a fork and spoon". You're very interested in putting on your own shoes and socks but lack of dexterity has you down here. You have no trouble putting Connor's hat on your head or his monkey's hat on your head, and you love wearing both of them around the house. And your beads, Helen, you love your beads. You wear them whenever you see them. I swear it is instanct that draws you to them.
You got your fifth tooth and are working on a sixth.
The two of you are really becoming friends and often play right beside each other, and that's a lot of fun to see.