August 19, 2008

Dear Sarah,

Thankfully, in many ways this month was much less eventful than last month. We enjoyed visits from your Grandma and your Uncle Scott and Aunt Caroline. I would like to think that you charmed them in every way. What I do know for sure is that you sent all of them home much more exhausted than they were when they arrived! In others though, especially for you, this was a BIG month. You are so active and mobile now and you are learning at such an incredibly fast pace that Daddy and I are, at times, struggling to keep up with all of your developments.

Your language acquisition is expanding daily although many of the words still don't make a whole lot of sense to us. You have recently added, "JIHAD!!!" and "BIDET!!!" to your repertoire which is exciting although not particularly useful. At least we are hoping that you aren't planning a jihad any time soon. Wait until you're potty trained, at least. You recognize more words now and point at things so that we can tell you what they are. You are a very good pointer by the way. I am surprised that your little pointer finger doesn't get tired by the end of the day with the endless pointing.

Perhaps your biggest accomplishment of the month has been learning to stand up without pulling up on something. This has improved your mobility ten-fold and has completely changed the way that you interact with our little house. One night last week you were in the middle of our bedroom floor and you just stood up. Your glee was evident and your dad and I just looked at each other and we both knew - nothing will be the same ever again. Now you walk places instead of crawling which is wonderful and totally takes the pressure off of me to remove all dirt from the floor. In fact, last night your dad looked at me horrified remarking on how dirty your little feet were. I suppose this is a breakthrough for me of sorts as well!

Your nanny started with us this month and you have taken to her in a lovely way. You guys play together and do a lot of the active things that I have a hard time doing with you because I am approaching the size of a beached manatee. The biggest adjustment for me has been hearing you yelp and holler from the other room and having to decide when to go to you. I know that there will be a time, likely fourteen or so years from now when you will slam your bedroom door on me and tell me that you don't want my help because I have ruined your life and you want to run away from home and join the circus. But for now, sometimes my mere arrival at your door will quell your frustrations about the Duplo blocks that won't stack right, the thresh hold from the kitchen to the dining room that moved just an inch since the last time you traversed it, or the dog who just won't cooperate and move out of her bed so that you can curl up in it. And just by seeing me you will look up from your yelping and smile. That will see me through the next twenty years and it makes it easy to haul my hulking body out of bed and to your side.

Of your many tricks, perhaps our favorite is your "monster face." If we monster face at you, you'll do it back to us. You put your claws out and tense up your face and bare your teeth. It is absolutely precious and never fails to make us laugh. You've been doing it for awhile now but you have truly perfect it this last month.

This month you also had to have surgery to correct a urinary reflux problem. You were such an amazing trooper - much braver than Mama was. We had to hand you over to the capable surgeons at Children's Hospital and wait an entire 90 minutes to see you again. It was the longest 90 minutes of my life, and quite possibly of Daddy's because of my incessant questions and agitation. Daddy bought you a giant Blue's Clues balloon for the recovery room and when we walked in you stared at us all doped up. I would like to think that you recognized us but you were pretty out of it. However, when you saw that balloon in Daddy's hand you lunged, drunk on anesthesia, across the hospital bed and slurred out, "ballooooooooon!" At that point, I knew that you were going to be fine. We had to wait there for two hours for the drugs to wear off and you got progressively more mobile with each passing minute. You were fascinated by the little red light that was measuring your oxygen saturation and it had to be moved three times to ensure that you didn't eat it in your excitement. The best part though was having it all be over, and your big smile when you woke up after a long nap in your crib at home. Oh, and we really got a kick out of the socks that they put on llama in pre-op!

There is a definite possibility that by the time I get around to writing your sixteen month letter that we will no longer be a family of three. This huge change weighs heavily on us because we know that no matter how much we prepare you, you will still be thrown for a loop. So, in case this is the last letter I get to write to you as an only child, remember, you are our first, you are our darling and only girl and you have brought all that is good in our lives. You have carried us through a challenging pregnancy and I have no doubt that you will carry us through a difficult first few months with the new babies. None of this would be happening if it wasn't for you and your Daddy and I will be forever in your debt. You completed us so that these new babies could come home and make our family even fuller.

Love,
Mama