19 and 20 months

These past two months have been pretty amazing lovey. This transition into childhood is amazing. To watch every subtle, daily change is sometimes hard and I seem to miss stuff. It's so gradual sometimes. But some things are big and happen - boom! Like one morning last month when you woke up (around 5 am, pre dawn) and said “daaaaark, daaark” Just in case I didn’t notice that the sun had yet to rise. When we got out to the living room and turned on the light you said “liiiiight, ouch ouch ouch eyes” and I think it’s the closest thing to a sentence that I have heard from you yet.

My new favorite thing to watch you do is pretend. This must be some sort of big milestone, because it's pretty amazing to me. The fact that you can think beyond the literal, make up things that you know are pretend - that is just so mind blowing for me. What a concept. Its only happen twice now that I've seen. Once was just the other day. You were playing with one of your beloved tractors up on our bed. We have a big headboard that sort of slopes down to each side. You had your tractor up one top, moving it down the slop over and over again. Then your little face lit up with joy when you turned around and said "sliiiiiiiiiiiide! Sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide!" Only it sounded a little more like Daffy Duck since your S's, W's and L’s sound like a wet and slobbery raspberry. It was a great little moment. To see you starting to use your imagination and to see your absolute joy in realizing you had stumbled onto something so cool. It's one that will stick with me a while. I also caught you trying to feed raisins to a photo of your dad and I. This was pretty cute too. You'd lift the tiny dried fruit to the picture, place it right on one of our mouths and make smack-smack eating noises while saying "Mmmmmm mama, mmmmmm dada" That was pretty sweet too babe.

And now? Now there's another one on the way. You're going to be a big brother my love. Amazing. But you know what? I can't help but feel this little aching sadness. Just a little. You don't get it, the baby thing, you're just a bit too young still. We tell you all the time, and you'll pat my belly to say "baaaaby, baaaaby" but it's all rather abstract. I can't help but feel that it takes me a little farther away from you. Preparing for life with a second child, it requires thinking about all the things that are no longer yours. Like your dad and I. We're not going to be just yours anymore, you'll have to share. And that's pretty much an earth shattering, life changing reality. Baby, your whole world is going to be turned upside down. And I can't even warn you. Lately at bed time I've held you just a little longer, squeezed you just a bit tighter. Right now, and for the next 6 months or so, I am all yours. For now.

You know what it feels like? It sorta feels like I'm cheating on you. Like I’ve taken another love. Like its wrong for me to love another child this much - and he/she's not even here yet! As my belly grows it pushes you off my lap. There's less and less space for you here. And soon this belly's going to take up more than my lap. Oh my love, why is my inclination to apologize to you? I feel like I should day I’m sorry, I’m sorry your world will never be the same, I’m sorry you don’t get my undivided attention for ever, I’m sorry you’ll have to share your parent’s love.

And by that same turn - I would not feel right if you were an only child. I would feel I was cheating you then too. Cheating you out of the childhood your dad and I got to have, with siblings. I think it's so important to have other little people to explore with, get in trouble with, fight with, learn with, love with and adventure with. I want very, very much for you to have that, I feel that it is a gift, an unparalleled experience that my children will get to have. Now, remind me of that when I'm refereeing between you and said younger sibling day in and day out.

Yesterday you climbed up onto my bed, where I was sitting folding clothes and laid yourself right in my lap. You looked up at me, put your arms together to cradle a baby and make the sign and said "Baby? Baby?" Just like you wanted me to hold you like a baby. I cried and tried to hold you. But the moment had passed (for you) and you wanted to wrestle instead.

One of your new words lately is "stuck". And now, everything is stuck. You'll stick your arm into the cushions of the couch and shout (with a little smile) "tuuuuuuuck! Mama tuuuuuuuuuuck!" Until I come and un-stick you. You also shout stuck when you can't reach something (obviously that banana is stuck up on the counter) or when it's too heavy to lift (that big rock is certainly stuck on the ground). You also let me know you're stuck when I'm getting you dressed and your little toes have yet to push through the end of the pant leg - "tuuuuuuuck!" obviously. You're fingers tend to get similarly stuck in the sleeves. You also shout stuck when you are, indeed, stuck. And a little bit like the boy who cried wolf, this happened last week. I was in your room, going through your clothes and packing away (again!) all the pieces that no longer fit. I heard you in the living room, with your toys, banging tractors around and making "vrroooom, vrroooooom, vroooom!" noises. And then it came, "Tuuuuuuuck! Tuuuuuuuck!" I laughed in the other room, but stayed put. I had already rescued you from the couch, underneath the carpet and behind the plant. I was done with the pretend unsticking for the moment and I thought you'd get bored with the waiting and extricate yourself. But the call kept coming, and soon I could hear the high pitch of panic in there. That's when I cursed myself and not listening and ran into the other room. And there you were at the dining room table, sitting backwards on a chair, with your foot very much stuck in the slats of the back. Stuck you were. It must have taken some forcing to get your big 'ol foot of yours through a 4 or 5 inch space, but you'll do a lot to be stuck.

Sometimes, when you’re being a bit too rough with the plants, or Steve or something similar, we’ll ask you to be gentle. “Gentle Asa,” we remind you. “Dentle” you repeat, and then kiss whatever it was you were not treating so nicely. I think it’s rather funny that this makes it all better and is gentle to you. Every single time too. I’ll catch you tugging on Steve’s tail and quickly ask you to stop and be gentle. Without hesitation you’ll lean right down and plant a big, wet kiss right on Steve’s back, plenty of hair coming back up with you, suck to your lips and nose. You’ll keep your eyes on me while you do this, looking out for approval, making sure you’re doing it right and that the kiss has rectified the offence. A kiss, huh? I wonder how long that’ll last. I kinda hope it’s a while.

You really enjoy hard boiled eggs lately (which you call, simply "Eeeeees") and also little Clementine oranges. You’ve started to say your own name recently and it sounds exactly like you’re saying “Zsa-Zsa”, as in Gabor. This never fails to get a smile. You love eating with grown up forks, getting to walk down the street holding hands (instead of being strapped in the stroller) and you absolutely love to go through familiar pictures and name each person as you recognize their face. “Mama!” you shout, and “Dada! Mimi (for Marleigh) and all your friends too. “Parper” for Harper and “Tahdo” for Tahvo. Abby is “Babby” and Naia is the default for every baby you don’t remember the name of. It’s great to see you enjoy your friends babe. It’s great to watch your world expand and grow everyday. It includes new people, new experiences, new boundaries and horizons. Every day the world grows with you, just that much more waiting to be discovered by you.

Love,

Mom

Samantha and David's wedding

Once upon a time on a beautiful summer day in Portland two people loved each other very much... and I was lucky enough to be there snap-snapping away. Enjoy a few pics from their special day...

Wishing many blissful years to the happy couple!

ONE AND A HALF!

Dear Asa,

We just went to your 18 month well visit and you, my friend, are a big kid! In the 100th percentile for weight and height (at 30 lbs and 34 inches) you're tipping the scales and the charts. Of course I could of told the doc just as well that you are back-breakingly big. Size 7 kicks and a big 2T in the wardrobe, you have left your baby clothes far behind. Now you wear sneakers that lace up and jeans that have tiny worn holes in the knee. You have a rats nest of bed-hair smack dab in back of your head every morning and you still want your blanket when you go to bed every night.

(Running to your beloved tractor)

You've been saying "bye" for a while now but "hi" finally made it into the mix this month. Before "hi" you used "bye" as a greeting, though it wasn't always obvious to other people. As soon as someone would walk in the door (or catch your eye walking down the isle at the store, or pass you on the sidewalk, or...) you wave right at them, loudly shouting "bye!" as if to say "leave!". Very rude indeed. "Bye" still seems to be favored, but "hi" gets in there now and again. Especially, for some reason to inanimate objects like rocks and garden gnomes. "Hiiiiii! Hiiiii!"

(Surveying the scene from the tractor)

"No" is another word that's been changing. You've said no for a while now (of course you have) but now it's got a little drama to it. If you drop your apple or trip or something of the like you throw your hands up and shout "Oh noooooooooo!!!" with all the theatrical exuberance you can muster. I still makes me laugh every time.

("Let's get this thing moving!")

We moved into a new home this month, and you didn't even skip a beat. You love it, and so do we. The yard out back has already provided hours and hours of entertainment. One of your favorite things to do these days is walk out into the garden and pick tomatoes off the vine. You shovel them into your mouth, seeds and juice dripping down your cheeks. Delicious and fun. As funny as it may sound, your favorite room in the house is the basement. But the reason why is obvious. Drum kit. The previous tenants couldn't pack it with them and when they asked if it'd be ok to store it in the basement it was just too perfect. We left it set up down there and you take yourself for a few practices a day. Your uncle Dalbo would be very proud.

("Vroom, vroom!")

Separation anxiety and frustrations also played a big roll this month. It was... challenging, to say the least. And continues to be. We're at this strange point where Independence, defiance and fear seem to mix in with new intelligence, added energy and a little extra defiance for good measure. That is to say, you fight me on nearly everything these days, but just for the sake of fighting. Changing diapers, or clothes, getting into the car, sitting in that cart at the grocery store, holding my hand while walking down the sidewalk, riding in your stroller, eating, baths. The list really could go on and on. You fight it all. And whats interesting is that in the midst of all this fighting me, resisting me and anger towards me, you want me and only me. All. The. Time. "Mama, mama, my mama, MY MAMA!" you shout over and over and over. I hear it from the shower, the kitchen, the car as I'm pulling out of the driveway to take a 3 minute vacation to the grocery store. It's pretty incredible. Sometimes you're worked up about it when I'm still there. Like you're just sure I'm going to leave. At dance class last week (that's a parent-toddler class, I'm there the whole time, running, jumping and twisting with you) you were nearly in tears the whole time. Holding my hand or in my arms, watery eyes searching wildly with "mama, mama, mama?!" 's every few minutes. Maybe it was the other kids and parents making you nervous? Or maybe you thought I was going to go? Whatever the case, it was tough. But we're heading back next week to give it another go. It's new for both of us love, this (mutual) defiance and frustration, and we'll figure it out as we go.

(Roger takes you for your first tractor ride)

Your favorite thing to eat these days is pasta. Any type of noodle really, so long as it has red sauce on it. Much like your aunt Marleigh though you much prefer your grandma's putenesca sauce. You'll eat three helpings or more of that one! You feed yourself totally on your own, aside from the occasional accepted spoonful from mom or dad's plate. You jump now, two feet of the ground and it pleases you to no end. You ask for your dad when he goes away and you prefer to sort of growl your favorite words, especially tractor. . You love your Eric Carle books with all the different animals and you love to watch birds ("boods") fly past our new big living room window. You are a bit more boyish, a little more big-kid every, single day. Sometimes I turn around and catch a glimmer in your eye, a smirk on your cheek and I see the man you will grow to be. Then I try my best not to blubber to loudly.

Love,
Mom

17 months

Dear Asa,

What happened to my baby? Was he swallowed by this giant toddler I see before me? For you are certainly that, a toddler. You have sneakers and real jeans with a zipper and a button. You have hair that sticks out at all angles and scrapes on yours knees. You eat popcicles and feed yourself. You have opinions and ideas and your very own quirky personality. It's amazing love, truly.

(Asa blue)

One of the cutest changes this month is that you have begun to recognize what is on your clothes and PJs. You have a pair of jammies with firetrucks and ambulances on them. One morning, after just waking, you sat on the couch with your morning baba sort of distractedly waving your arms in the air and looking around. And then you saw it, the truck on your arm. You froze. "Tuk tuk? Tuk tuk?" And when you realized that yes, they were indeed tuk tuks you came running over to show me. Ever since then you look on your clothes to see if they have anything interesting on them. A favorite of yours right now is the shark shirt. Every time I put it on you say "raawr!" because it seems logical that something with so many teeth would roar. I feel ya babe.

(put the hat on mom)

This month we spent our first ever night apart. Can you believe it? Nine months in, 17 months out and every single night together. Until now. I was in Portland photographing a wedding and visiting your Aunty Mar, your grandpa and yaya Murray and your good buddy Connor and his parents. It was a fabulous quick trip, but it was hard leaving you. As soon as I pulled out of the drive way I just sobbed. I can't even say why really. I knew you were happy and safe with your dad, I was excited for my upcoming adventure, all was well. But there's something about that separation, that initial tearing apart that ripped into me. When I came home though, there you were. Happy, naked, grubby and smiling - my boy! My heart melted to see your bright shining face again, I raced through the front door, ready to scoop you up.....when you saw your grandma, or "Ammaw" as it were. You scooted right around me with a big side step to the right and ran directly into your grandma's arms. It was adorable, if not a tad stinging. You love your grandma very, VERY much. But later that night, when I was getting you to bed, I held you in my arms and said "baby, I sure did miss you" You laid your head on my shoulder, wrapped your arms around me as far as they would stretch and, patting me, said "mama, my mama" and snuggled right in. I think it was the best moment of my life.

You started hugging lately, though I think that night was your first. And the best part of the hugs is that pat. It must be because I am always patting your back, and the feeling of your little hands reaching as far as they can with a little pat pat pat on my side, my shoulder, my back is just the best. You've also started jumping and that is just the funniest sight. I never stopped to think about all the complicated components, the precise movements that make up a jump. First you get down real low, bending your knees. Sometimes it's too low, a complete squat that doesn't allow you to get any air. Sometimes it's only a cursory bend, for show not for bounce. But sometimes, sometimes you get it just right with that perfect slight bend to the knee. The arms play a big part in your jump and the timing involved in coordinating the upward arm swing with the flexing leg bend is incredible. Often your arms will swing too early or too late, causing a sort of jerking plop of the body. When you're trying real hard you can even knock yourself over with these flapping arms. But when you get it right, when the timing is on its the combination of these flapping arms and those bending knees that propel you upward, pushes you skyward, your toes even leave the ground. Occasionally. Jumping is hard business, but your are determined. I can hear you in your room jumping in your crib some mornings after you've woken up but before you've called for me to come get you. The tell tale thump-thump-WHACK on the wall that is the bar of your crib slap-slapping on the wall. What's great about it though is that you can hold on to the railing and bounce on the mattress, making this whole vertical jump thing a lot easier. It does seem to confuse and upset you a tiny bit when I finally lift you out and you try to continue with the jumping though. One step, er jump, at a time.

This month you were sick with a nasty cough that lasted for weeks. It was horrible to hear, but amazing to watch. No one would ever have guessed that you were sick unless they heard that awful, retching cough. Your appetite was the same, your attitude was the same and your energy was, well, exuberant. Which is to say the same. You also learned how to open the fridge by yourself. You plant yourself in front of it, grip the handle with both hands and force all of your might back on it. You strain and grunt with the effort, body shaking, face turning red. And right when I think you're not going to be able to pry it loose, the suction pries loose and there it goes. You usually pick something in there, grab it and close the door again, only to repeat the process to open the door once more and replace the item. I like to encourage this game near bedtime, it's quite a little work out.

(I see you)

Another interesting change this month is your new found clingy-ness. Always my little independent boy, this is new to me. Especially in crowded situations, when we're around lots of unfamiliar people, you ask to be picked up, a little frantically, and as soon as you're in my arms its "mama, mama, mama!" You point directly at my face and look around at the strangers, imploring them with every new "mama" to recognize that I am your mama. There is such a sense of urgency involved, much like when you see or hear a truck and we all have to acknowledge it's passing too. Only this is ratcheted up a notch. You seem to do it right when you're uneasiest, right when you begin to feel overwhelmed or insecure. And all it takes to calm you down is to point out that this person right here is my mom and my mom only and as soon as someone else recognizes this too "yes, that's your mama Asa" you are fine again. You wiggle right out of my arms and hit the floor running, ready to continue playing now that the whole mom business is cleared up.

One of the things you love best in the world these days is to look at yourself in the mirror and do things. Mostly you like to put on different hats and look at them on you in the mirror, but lately you've been bringing things back there to sit on, or drum on or eat, all while watching yourself in the mirror. It cracks your dad and I up! You are so intent, so interested, so unabashedly into yourself! And you'd prefer to do this alone. You like it if someone else dresses up with you, but if we're hanging there just watching you are not at all pleased. Sometimes if there happens to be an article of clothing near you, usually mine or your dad's, you will work that into your show right away. You try to put on clothing by grabbing a piece in both hands and pulling it around you neck. The article of clothing usually ends up draped over your shoulders, kind of like a scarf. To walk into my bedroom and see you sitting there on one paint can, drumming on another wearing nothing but my nightgown as a scarf and your dad's hat on your head is the best thing ever. It may embarrass you someday, but I've already decided that I'll have to sneak up on you and film you doing this someday. It must be archived. It's just too good. I'm sorry.

(little cowboy or small stockman?)

Your favorite things to eat lately are yogurt (though only if you are allowed the bowl and spoon all to yourself, no help from mom) and blue berries. You love tiny PB&J's and scrambled eggs which you call "didgits" or dip-its because you get to dip them in a pile of ketchup. I've been making you popcicles this summer in those little plastic molds just like I had when I was a kid. You drink water from a cup and you use a spoon. You help me get you dressed some days and you assist in putting the groceries away every time. Your favorite movie is UP and you've learned that picking flowers and bringing them to mom almost always gets a good reaction. You know that after I take a picture of you with my digital camera that you can see yourself on the screen in back and you actually are gentle with the cat most days. Now, if we could just get a handle on this whole sharing business....maybe next month?


Love,
Mom

A current list of your words:

mom - mama
dad - dada
bottle - baba
Papa John - papa
Grandma - ammaw
Drew - Doooo
Dalbo - Dado
Steve - deeve
Tahvo - tahbo
truck - tuk tuk
tractor - tracthar
wheel - weeew
ball - ba
clock - tock tock
thank you - day du or daint do
no - nonono
all done - a'don
rock - dock
blue berry - babu
hammer - boom boom
apple - apoe
banana - anana
dip it - didgit
phone - hewow hewow (like hello hello)
balloon - bawooo
hi - hiii
bye bye - ba bye
chip - dgip
melon - nenon
book - bok bok
bird - booood
moon - mooooon
tree - teee
dog - dag
cat- tat
poo poo - poo boo
buddha - boobah
angel - jhool
bug - buda
duck - dudt
didgeridoo - doo doo doo

Faerieworlds

A weekend in Eugene, Oregon at The Faerieworlds Festival with Marleigh, Grandma and the boys...



(Faerie flags fly high)



(nightime drum circle)




(a gathering of faeries)










(caught his eye)




(in motion)


(grandma faerie looks on)




(backstage faerie)

(light me up)

15 and 16 months

Dear Asa,

Well, this sure has taken me awhile. But you know what? I've been busy! You're quite the hand full these days and we've been on the road a lot with your dad this summer. It's hard to keep up - with you and these letters - sometimes, but we're getting there, one step at a time.

(dancing in the sun)

These past two months have gone by in a flash and you are cruising right along. You are eternally curious, investigative and intent in your inspection. Bugs are quite fascinating these days, especially ants. You follow them along for a good while, watching the line of marchers heading to and fro. Once observation is done, you pick one out and point to it, tracking it's movement up the wall. Your little pointer finger moves in closer and closer, zeroing in on this one tiny ant until it is smashed on the end of your finger. You usually take it to someone, still smeared across your index, giving it up to them saying "Dis, dis, DIIISSSS" (which is Asa for "this" since bug isn't in your vocabulary yet) until they acknowledge your amazing find.

You have a new found love of books or "buk-buks" as you call them, since everything must have two syllables. Your favorite books at the moment are the ones with animals that make noise. Your face lights up at the question "What sound does the cat make?" And you are still grinning when you reply "Maaaaooooow, maaaaooooow" nearly at the top of your lungs. After we've gone through a litany of animals - your funny "maaaow" for cat and and little "uuff, uff" for dog, we get a "bit-bit" for frog (which almost sounds like ribbit) and, your favorite, a big "Raaaoor!" for dinosaur - you are on to body parts. Once one trick starts you usually like to run through them all. "Where's your nose Asa?" I ask. You positively light up when you smash your finger into the end of your little nose. We go through ears, hair, eyes, toes and mouth now too, saving your favorite for last. You love to stick your little pink tongue out and grunt when you point to your mouth. We're working on arms and legs now, fingers and hands too but these parts are still a bit confusing for you. We're getting there baby. After we finish up the body parts you dart to the fridge for the magnets. We have ten or fifteen up there that have pictures of various animals, machines and plants. I think you can pick out about six or seven of them now, running back and forth from the fridge to me with the requested piece. "Where's the airplane?" I start. You run to the fridge, eyes searching wildly. Once found you run back to me, the airplane magnet clenched tightly in your little fist. Next we look for the motorcycle, the cow, the tree, the truck and the tractor. The pig and the horse get in there sometimes, but the sheep is a bit confusing still and so are the different trucks, like a fire truck or a dump truck. At this point anything big and rumbling is a "tuk-tuk" and anything with mechanical arms that come off of it are "tactors". Makes sense to me.

(laughing with Uncle Dalbo)

Speaking of trucks and tractors, they have definitely made it to the top of your "things that are amazing" list and you must point out every, single one that passes. Even if we're in the house and hear the tell tale rumble of that diesel engine outside, you come screaming around the corner, shouting "Tuk-tuk! Tuk-tuk!" or "Tactor! Tactor!" while pointing to the road. This will go on and on until someone else recognizes this momentous occasion along with you. Your insistence in these situations is astounding. It really is important to you in that moment that we knowledge you and your "tuk-tuk" and you are quick to tears if we take a little too long in our recognition.

One place you are not quick to tears however is on the playground. Or the backyard, sidewalk, store, etc. When you take a tumble, even those really good ones where you end up with a bloody knee or a scraped hand, you very rarely cry. I've watched you walk right into the corner of our dining room table at lest 10 times since you've been tall enough to reach it. Every time your eyes are down, searching for something at your feet and THWACK! you catch that corner right above the eye. You stop, stumble backwards a sec, reach your hand up to your head and say "boom, boom" while making the sign for pain. You delight in telling me this, excited, I suspect, at being able to tell me about what happened. And then you're off, on to whatever it was you were doing before bashing your head in. Just yesterday we were at The Lake of the Woods out swimming and exploring. You spied a bird ("Boood, booood!" you shouted) and veered off the path to get a closer look. On the way you tripped and wound up with a nice, long scrape down the length of your left leg. It wasn't terrible, but bad enough to get a little bloody and make a nice scab. At the time though you just fussed a bit, came over holding your knee and presented your injury. In the end you were way more upset over the fact that the bird had flown away, tears streaming down your face you pointed to where the bird had been calling "Booood? Booood?!" My little man, tough as nails but sensitive at heart. Your dad calls you a sensitive little bruiser and I think it fits perfectly.

(riding your motorcycle with Uncle Drew)

Your sign language has improved considerably, but as you've also become more vocal I find us both relying on it less and less. Your two new favorite ones are baby - and you delight in pointing out every baby you find, even if that "baby" has a year or two on you - and dada. You love the sign for dada, especially when it seems that you are trying to tell other people that he is your dada. We've been on the road a lot these past two months, in Santa Cruz, LA, Portland, Eugene and many truck stops in between. During our travels you've been able to see a couple of your dad's shows, which is pretty new stuff for you. Now that you're a bit bigger, there's no doubt that you recognize your dad up there. And you want everyone watching to know that too! As we watched him up on stage at The Faeriewolds Festival this past weekend in Eugene you signed for dad over and over and over again, somewhat frantically searching around, waiting for people to see you and acknowledge that yes, that man up there is Asa's dad and Asa's dad only!

(little drummer boy)

You also want to get yourself up there on stage now. But not just to see your dad. You want to get up there to play the drums! Man oh man, do you love drums, especially the ones on Dalbo's big drum kit. He set you up there last weekend, gave you a couple drumsticks and let you go. Now, I know this is to be expected, but I was so impressed! You sat up there for a full 30 minutes and would have stayed longer had they not had a gig to play. You tried out every drum, every cymbal. You hit them each with your left hand and your right. You loved every second of it. You let Dalbo show you a few things, like crossing your arms in order to hit a drum and a cymbal at the same time. You dutifully mimicked as best you could, then continued banging right along. I may soon regret this, but I think you'll be needing your own drum kit!

We've had you in the water a lot more these past two months, but so far you're not terribly interested in anything over your waist. You love to splash in the shallows, and run in the sprinklers, but as soon as I take you in the water with me, holding you as I walk in, you start to squirm and screech. I must admit it is a bit comical love, the sound you make is much like a kitten, a poor pathetic kitten who's all wet and doesn't like it. You don't make too big of a fuss, but you definitely make it clear that you would like to be back on solid ground, thankyouverymuch. Your dad and I both want for you to be in the water as much as possible. Both of us grew up swimming and diving and splashing ourselves and want to have that experience with you. We'll just give it a little more time, eh?

(four generations)

Another of your newest explorations is jealousy. Wow baby, you sure are a fierce little thing when you want to be! It started in Los Angeles at our friends the Weichelt's. With a 6 year old, a 2.5 year old and a 1.5 year old running around, there was plenty of fodder for some jealousy flares. You were having a blast, running around their house and yard, playing with new toys, interacting with the kids and having a grand time. Until Harry, 2.5, sat down in my lap. You saw it from outside, through the sliding glass door. Your face contorted into a screaming yell. Not tears, but full on yelling. Around the corning you came, reaching out for me and yelling still. What happened next was surprising to me, because I thought for some reason you'd be mad at Harry, that you'd try to kick him off your mama's lap and claim your stake. But noooo, it wasn't Harry you were after, it was me! You ran right up to us, leaned in and bit me right on the leg. It was the last thing I was expecting and when I felt the pinch of those little teeth (all 14 of them!) I yelped. Loud. And this of course did make you cry. I sat in front of you, tears streaming down your face and said "No biting mama, you can't bite the mama!" and you scooted yourself closer to me, never taking your eyes from mine, leaned over my arm with your mouth open and pretended to bite me again! You didn't actually chomp down this time, but you made it clear you wanted to. Wow baby, it was intense! You had your little teeth bared, your eyes angry and holding mine and I swear a growl came up from your belly that was completely animalistic. "Mama, my mama! Mama, mama, my mama!" you shouted. It was quite a moment. This happened twice more that day, but never since, though you've still had some jealous moments since then. None, thankfully, that involved biting. You've now started to act jealous between your father and I, and, baby, it's pretty funny (though I'm sure you don' think so). It's just the little things that seem to make you jealous and get you worked up. Like when I'm holding you and we're walking somewhere. If your dad comes up and puts his arm around me you will imediatedly grab his hand and force it off of my shoulder. The same will happen if dad is the one holding you and I swing my arm around you. Grab it and throw it right off. I guess only one of us is allowed to love you at a time, huh?

(swinging with "Ammaw" and "Gigi")

You're working it all out kiddo - calculating, investigating, plotting. I love that I can see your ideas emerge, watch the thought process and see you as you begin to understand, as the dots connect and things fall into place. Every day you are more a little boy, less a baby. Every day you seem longer, taller, heavier. You seem to have been stretched out recently, your legs so long and straight, no longer chubby baby legs that curl into your body, they are strong and straight. Legs for running and jumping and climbing. Your hair is getting longer, blonder and curlier by the day and it's probably time I started brushing it. Your feet are long and wide, sturdy platforms for all the running around you do. Your hands are quick, and deft. The sound of your voice is like nothing else and when you snuggle into my arms cooing "Mama, mama, mama" I know that I am exactly where I'm meant to be. I love you baby.

Love,
Mom