June 19, 2008

Dear Sarah,

This letter is getting written a little bit early this month because tomorrow you and I are heading off on an airplane for California and Oregon. Daddy and I were cheapskates when we bought our tickets and figured that you would be perfectly happy sitting on my lap for the six hour flight. Well, now that D-day is almost here, I am not so sure. There is less of my lap available for you and you are also so mobile and so energetic that I don't know how I will keep you entertained for the entire flight. All I can promise you is that we will indeed get there and that I will never be so relieved as when I put you in the loving arms of your Grandma and Granddad upon arrival in San Francisco.

You said your first intelligible "real" word this month. Button. Button?!?! You do love buttons so I suppose it isn't much of a surprise. Everything of interest is now "button." Chairs, mirrors, fingers, you get the picture. Except for the cats. They are "itty!!!!!" and imagine it with a somewhat piercing squeak that will really wake you up in the morning. As the "ittys" are most active in the morning, this is often what drives us all out of bed. You are working on "oggie" and I swear that I heard you almost say "llama" this morning. I took an infant signing class this month and while you don't seem to have a clue when I make the signs for milk, mommy or daddy, you do like the sign for dog - panting.

You have started to walk with the assistance of only one hand and you can take about a step-and-a-half solo before careening into the bed or some other soft object. This gives you pleasure to no end. I think that upward homo sapien - like walking is not far off. If your walking is anything like your crawling it will be high speed and determined. And more than likely pointed in the direction of the stairs so that you can climb all the way up.

We have begun to enjoy the summer months together. We went to the ocean, we played at the park and we suffered through our first really warm patch. I also spent one night away from you this month which was awful. Daddy called me all of the time to keep me up to date on your activities but it certainly wasn't the same. I left my retreat a day early to come home to see you and it was a joyous reunion. At least for me. You were more interested in jamming the spoon full of carrots in my face. I took that as as a sign of affection.

One of your least desirable habits has surfaced this month. Sarah, you poop in the bath. Every. Damn. Time. It took us a couple of times but now we just wash you up right away upon entry and then wait for you to poop and take you out and rinse you off with warm water and call it good. It is fine parenting. For awhile we would take you out, clean the tub, clean all of your toys, then re-fill the tub and give you the rest of your bath. Well, no more. Now we just make the best of what we've got.

Your daddy and I got the shock of a lifetime this month when we went in for an ultrasound appointment to check on your new sibling and found out that we are expecting not one but TWO babies. When the ultrasound tech told us that there were two in there, I tried to keep breathing and your daddy started laughing. Never one to miss a party, you started clapping and laughing as well. I am only documenting this here so that when you are thirteen and think that I have ruined your life and that the twins contributed mightily to your downfall that I have evidence that you were happy about it when we first found out. Either that or you were just really excited about all of the buttons on the ultrasound machine.

Lots of plans for the future seem to be changing this month. You won't likely be going back to play school in the fall as we had planned. We'll probably (hopefully!) have more indentured servants (visitors) in the fall than we planned. We'll be taking fewer trips than we planned. There will be less money in the bank than we planned. Sophie will be more neurotic than we planned. But, if we get to love these babies as much as we love you, well, we figure that things are going to be just fine.

Love,
Mama