June 19, 2009

Dear Sarah,

I'm not going to lie, this has been a hard month for ye olde mome. I still feel like I'm behind the eight ball with respect to your independence, needs and just general toddlerness. I'm not sure quite what to make of this little two year old who lives in my house and that can be keenly apparent at times - particularly whenever you want something that you can't have. We have had a lot of battles and a lot of breakthroughs and I suspect this will be par for course moving forward.

You are able to do so much more for yourself these days and your expressive language has improved so much that you can ask for things that you want more effectively, not to mention more loudly! We are trying to offer you choices whenever possible. Do you want the green dress with the watermelon or the yellow dress with the flowers? Do you want milk or water? Do you want the counting book about hippos or the counting book about ducks? It works a lot of the time and your glee when you make a decision and enunciate it is evident and completely charming. And then there are the times when you can't make a decision and you don't know what you want. And I can relate because sometimes I don't know if I want toast or a bagel for breakfast. Or if I want fries or a salad (seriously, something that is a hard choice for me!). Or if we should watch the millionth replay of Law and Order: SVU or the new movie from Netflix. The difference between you and me is that I don't flap about on the floor flailing my arms and legs and shrieking when I don't know what I want to do. You do. It isn't pretty.

No where have the battle lines been drawn more sharply than at the table. Before we instituted some changes that have been completely liberating and rather effective, you threw food. Cups. Books. Yogurt. Anything. It was awful. We were spending hours picking up the floor meanwhile trying to keep from being beaned on the head by a flying projectile of doom. I was seriously ready to invest in bike helmets for the babies. And then we removed the books. You have one cup and two choices of food. If you ask specifically for something we give it to you. Otherwise you eat or don't eat the two things presented. You tell us when you're done and you can climb down from your chair. Sometimes you'll eat two bowls of pasta, edamame, chili and an apple like last night's dinner. And sometimes you'll have one bite of cheese, one bite of oatmeal and a raisin like today's lunch. It is really hit or miss but you're happier now. Daddy and I are happier now. There are limits and we all know where they are. Maybe there's hope for us after all in this whole parenting game.

One of the biggest changes that has happened this month (again, that I was totally unprepared for) is that you have started to be afraid of things. Strange noises. Strange people. Strange places. Now this isn't a totally terrible thing. Had you continued in your fearless ways you would be dead by the time you're five. However, it is always a surprise. We'll be out and something will spook you and you'll ask to be picked up. You never used to do this. You are more shy around people you don't know. You'll hide behind my legs or burrow into Daddy's shoulder. You warm up quickly but you're not the extrovert you used to be and it takes awhile before you're willing to do any of your tricks.

You have taken to calling us Mommy and Daddy instead of Mama and Dada. Way cute. You eat Play Doh. You LOVE raspberries. You stuff toilet paper into the roll when you pull it off. You like it when I sing but you get cross when Daddy sings (can't blame you there). You can get out of your sleep sack absurdly fast without undoing in the zipper. You beat the crap out of your brothers in the car. You're afraid of bees. You are starting to learn your numbers although you have no idea what they mean. Your default numbers are "two" and "nine! ten!" You are also working on your colors. Your default color is green. When in doubt, it is always "GREEEEEEEN!" You love to water the plants outside. You admire yourself in the mirror several times each day. You say silly things and know that they're silly. You call "milk" "ulk." There is no one like you.

Right now I am listening to you on the monitor. You are awake from your nap and you're talking to yourself (or one of your many Tiggers or penguins) in your crib. You are saying, "House. Sarah House. Sarah. Coooool. Owwwwwwwwen. Mommeeeeeeee. Daddeeeeeeeee." It is beyond cute. And I know that even though this was a tough month and next month could be even tougher, we are a family and we will get through it together. And now I have to go because you've gone from listing the members of you family to repeatedly hollering, "Mommeeeeeeeeee! MOMMEEEEEEEEEE!!" That's my cue.

Love,
Mama