Happy 20 Months, Helen!

Dear Helen,

You are nothing short of incredible, and you are so darn close to communicating easily with words that everyone in this house can sense it. I'm not saying viewers on the outside would understand everything you say, but you are getting it, as in, you understand that ideas come in more than one word at a time. This month, you accomplished the feat of stringing together words to form a complete sentence, just like your brother did at this age. Only, I have to admit that your brother went on to do it regularly, while you are still working on mostly two word phrases. But, given that you had fluid in your ears for much of your first year of life, you get a pass.

And what was this sentence, you ask? "Helen made a mess." You said it on our flight to Kansas City that we took about a week ago. And indeed, you had just spilled apple juice all over because I turned my head for a few seconds while I reached into a bag to get your brother something, and the next thing I heard was Connor shouting "Helen made a mess" and then you proudly proclaiming "Helen made a mess", and the next thing I knew, the flight attendant was right by our side. And bless her, Helen, because she came with a damp cloth and napkins. She was pretty much my savior on the plane that day. Of course, when she showed up I was all "don't worry, I have a full box of wipes" as I was grasping for them and flailing about wiping the seat down, because I wanted her to know that I am aware that finding myself outnumbered by little people 2-to-1 on an airplane is perhaps not the wisest parenting move I have ever made, but even so, I come prepared! Sort of. The cloth was nice. And the napkins. And the fact that she moved us to the back of the plane where there were THREE empty rows of seats prior to take-off, which turned out to be just enough. Barely.

You proved yourself to be one tough little cookie this month, Helen. We went camping this past weekend with Connor's friends Esther and Eamon and you did your very best to keep up. I think you were grateful to Ellen when she brought out the Dora dominoes and you got to PLAY! With the big kids! And they were finally sitting instead of running all around because wow are they hard to keep up with.




On that same camping trip, we thought you learned your first curse word, but as it turns out, you just have a very interesting was of saying "Esther". To most observers, it sounded a lot more like a**hole than anything else. You adore our neighbor Amy, and I guess you missesd her on our vacation because you flat our refused to call Eamon by his name, and instead called him "Amy". He wasn't all that impressed.



You and your baby are inseparable. Seriously. You put her down to use hand sanitizer about 20 times each day (nice to know you have OCD too), to eat, and to swim. But that's about it. As I've mentioned before, baby is about 3 inches tall, made of wool. She fits perfectly in the palm of your hand. This means two things. She was not designed to be drug about everywhere and she is very easy to lose. Luckily, you usually point out that baby is missing within a couple of minutes of losing her, so we can almost always find her quickly. If not, we have a back-up baby with her own wear and tear issues. If both are present, you will show a preference, but if only one is present, you are grateful for it, and don't complain about wanting the other.

You went through a phase of sleeping until after 7:30, and that was awesome. At first I thought you might be growing, but after measuring you standing up next to our cabinet, I'm not so sure about that theory. Maybe you're just tired from all the running around you do every day. Or maybe you inherited some genetic material from your father that programs you to lay around in bed when you wake up, rather than bolting into my bedroom. Your sleeping crew now numbers four: baby, sheep, and two little puppies. The two little puppies were added tot he crew when we went to Kansas and I brought them in lieu of the sheep. When we got back, you definitely wanted your sheep, but you also wanted the two dogs. These two dogs? They are Connor's. Or rather, they were Connor's. On our first night back, Connor demanded to sleep with them and I told him that you were already in bed so he was out of luck. He asked your dad if he could have his puppies back in the morning and your dad said he could. The next morning, I heard Connor in your room, and your dad and I were certain he was there to claim his puppies. I crept into your room, pointed at him, and motioned for him to get out because I did not want him to wake you up. As it turns out, he was trying to give you the other three puppies in the set, so it's a good thing I didn't nearly murder him for going into your room before you woke up - a cardinal sin in this house.



You had your first taste of Jell-o when you were at Grandma's house and not surprisingly, you approve of this little treat. You even ask for it for breakfast regularly, but unfortunately, the best I can do is a little jelly on your pancakes.

And finally, Helen, I'm posting photos from your 18th month.

Love,
Mommy