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