Monthly Newsletter, Month Twenty-One

NateNate,

You're 1.75 years old now, and you are doing your best to live up to the grave responsibilities that go along with such a prestigious age.



This is "pronunciation month" - you are very concerned with the last letter of each word. Milk, which used to be "muh" is now "mil-kkk." Snack, which used to be "nah", is now "nack!" Truck, which used to be "fuh", is now "FUCK!" And there are lots of fucks all around us, all of which are dutifully noted with a very serious face. A few days ago you stood at the front gate, calling out as each fuck went driving past our house. The neighbors were amused. Everyone's amused. I'm sure Children's Services will be amused. I'm doing a lot of work with you on saying "bus" or "car" or any other vehicle.



I'm also having to do a little work on your Daddy. Seems that you have him a teensy bit wrapped around your finger. He was putting you to bed last night, as he does most nights, and afterwards came in to tell me that he'd had to put you down with only a diaper on. Seems you'd pitched a fit while he tried to put your pajamas on. About 1/3 of the time, you also pitch a fit when I try to take you out of your pajamas and put you into regular clothes in the morning. You just don't like being manhandled. My response? I just keep getting you dressed, while you thrash and wail and weep. Daddy's response? He put you to bed with only your diaper on. Which, as every parent knows, equals a naked baby with no diaper within a matter of minutes. I sent him back in after a pep talk, and he got you in your pj's with no problem.

Pep talk: "You're still bigger than him, right? Stronger? Older? Then please don't let a one year-old dictate his own terms."



You're able to do more and more every day - shocking, right? I took you to the Amazing Park (Clemyjontri) a few weeks ago, and bit my tongue while you took off after a few adventures that you definitely couldn't do on our last visit. It's so hard to bite back that parental worry, but so worth it; you kicked that park's booty.



Side note: when I ask you where your booty is, you grab your butt (or sometimes your crotch) and gyrate a little. I have no idea where you picked up the gyrating thing. It's fabulous.

We play a lot with our neighbor down the street, and she loves having you over. Last week we stripped you both down to your diapers and let you play with a hose in the backyard. I love our neighborhood, and our wonderful friends.





I also love the opportunties we get living here. I took you to Haines Point to watch the airplanes launch and land over the Potomac, and we played on the Awakening statue. You have turned into such a ham for the camera, and wanted me to take your photo next to all of the different parts. I obliged, even though I only had my cell phone camera with us.



You burned yourself a few weeks ago on one of the painter's lights - you put your hand down on it and got a little blister at the top of three of your fingers. Since then, you have been very concerned over whether or not something is "ot? ot? ot?" When I put you into your carseat: "ot?" When I put food in front of you, or hand you a snack: "ot?" Usually when I say "no, it's not hot" you'll dig right in, but sometimes you keep asking over and over. I think you enjoy the conversation.

We spent a weekend at the beach with Grandma and Grandpa, and Grandpa was very excited to bring you to the boardwalk to go on the rides for the first time. I was a little unsure of how you'd respond, since a few months ago you'd been fairly off-put by the carousel on the mall. I plunked you onto the first ride with some trepidation, but you were just great. Sat there with a little happy smile on your face the whole time, and enjoyed the show. Ann and Marty were there, and it was a great joy for me to see four grandparents all standing together saying "hi" to you every time you went by in your little car, or boat, or swing. You are so loved, Natey.



You love to run, and do it almost non-stop. When you first started, you almost jumped from foot to foot, but now you're just starting to push off forwards. We're glad to see it, frankly, because up until now your run has been a bit, um, flouncey.



A few days ago, we had a long rainy Sunday together. Daddy took you out to play in the rain, running up and down the alley between the big white house and Tom's old house. I believe that the word "scamper" would be appropriate here - you guys scampered up and down the alley, arms flapping, giggling. I wanted to go get the camera, or the video camera, because the scene was so perfect and beautiful, but I also wanted to live in the moment and just imprint it on my heart. I think it's burned there, and I'm so grateful for you, and for Daddy, and for the rain, and for us all appreciating every part of it.



I love you madly.
Mama