Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Twenty Months: My Letter to Little Man

First, I have to say that I am way too young to be the mother of a dude in his early 20's. Second, if you've hit the 20-month mark, how much longer until you learn to make your Mama a mojito from scratch?

I'm just saying that you've mastered singing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" to the point that people other than your parents know what you're singing. Although this is quite the accomplishment, and I don't mean to undermine it in any way, it's really not that useful of a skill to me. And you should know that no matter what you've been told by your buddies, it should always be about your Mama.



Speaking of which, you and I have a new song that we love to sing together and march to around the house together, clapping our hands as loudly as we can. It's called "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne, who, you should know, is just about Canadian royalty, except that she's not, because in Canada, we have an actual royal family. We also have the best maple syrup, but don't ever tell a drunk Vermont person that, because they get really, really pissy when we try to tell them the truth. Just trust me on that one.

But back to Avril. In her song, she says "Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend. No way, no way, I think you need a new one." This is a great song for you, because it's really easier to sing along to than "Baa Baa Black Sheep," which honestly doesn't make any sense to me. Because how would the sheep know that he's got three bags worth of wool? There's no way he could physically measure all of it. But a song like Avril's, I expect that once you turn 14 or so, I'll probably need to dust off the MP3 file and re-teach you the words. Because surely, you won't only date women I love. And I expect that with those blue eyes of yours, tousled blonde hair and infectious laugh, that women will fall for you pretty regularly, and not all of them will be great enough for my Little Man.



The pre-baby me convinced herself that if I had kids, they wouldn't be one of those brats at Walmart who yells at their parents because the parent said no to some asinine request. An old joke says that this is the lie that every person must tell themselves in order to make the jump into parenthood. But this month was once again a chance for me to think that I continue to prove that joke wrong, because you really aren't one of those kids.

For the most part, you are extremely delightful, charming, funny, albeit very cautious with both risk-taking and strangers. The other day, at the grocery store, I let you follow me around the store pushing one of those little kid carts. You followed me dutifully, like a baby duck behind his Mama, and you pushed that cart with the serious look of a rookie soldier driving a tank for the first time who really wants to make his country proud. Not once did I have to worry about you running the other way with your cart. And when we stopped and I gave you something to throw in your cart, you'd throw it as hard as you could, not once missing the basket, and then clap loudly and cheer for yourself. I could have spent the rest of my life grocery shopping with you.

Even better, we couldn't go two feet without someone complimenting you on how cute you were, which is the kind of stuff we Mama's could eat by the gallon-full. But unlike any other child who'd smile broadly at the kind strangers stroking your ego, you'd eye them suspiciously, concerned that they'd try to take your food or your cart away.



We also have to be so careful with what we say around you now, because you'll repeat anything we say, like a parrot. I tend to say "uhm..." when I'm thinking about what I'm going to say next, and just about every time, you'll pipe up with your own "uhm..." And of course, there's your positive response of "yeah?" to everything we ask. Not "yes," not "oui" just "yeah." And I've figured out that it's because your dad answers all of my questions with "yeah." Then there's the fact that in order to get you out of your "no" phase from a couple of months ago, I tend to ask questions like this "you want to put your shoes on, yeah?" I predict that you'll be in school and someone will respond to one of your questions with the word "yes" and you'll be really confused and have no clue what they've said.



One cool thing we've watched happen over the past couple of months is as our lab puppy's matured and you've been more capable of fending off his slobbery attacks of love, the two of you have developed a relationship worthy of a Disney movie. You spend a lot of energy all day trying to get the dog to chase you around the house. And when he slowly meanders your way to see what all your squealing is about, you giggle so hard and run away from him, that you get the hiccups and he gets really confused. But for the most part, you continue to send the poor dog some serious mixed signals, laughing your little butt off when he licks your hands clean, then yellling "no! no!" at him when you want him to stop, only to laugh again when he doesn't. We've asked you to stop, since we don't want to have to choose between getting a dog therapist and sending you to college, just like I've tried to explain to you that you really shouldn't dangle a waffle in front of the dog's snout and expect him to not steal it away from you.

My favorite new trick of yours is the kissing. You've always had the most kissable lips, and now, you're actually using them for real kisses instead of the blown king. Every night, you actually pucker up and plant one on my lips and your daddy's before you go to bed. If anyone had told me in my teens when I pined after stupid boys that the best kisses I would ever get would be from a short little man who speaks in an alien language, has wild hair and often drools on me when he kisses me, I probably would have said they were crazy. But I'm older, wiser and loved to the point that I'm very likely to burst at any moment into a mushy pile of marshmallow puff cream.



On certain nights, you'll kiss me goodnight and when I go to put you in your crib, I'll claim to not have received my kiss and demand another goodnight kiss. I should feel guilty for conning you in this way, just like I should feel guilty for eating most of your Lucky Charms marshmallows, but I consider those stolen kisses to be my stockpile for all the times as a teenager you'll refuse to be seen with me in public and ask me to stop embarrassing you with all the inhaling and exhaling that I do.

Love,

Maman.

7 comments:

Emma in Canada said...

Do you know how many times I've checked today knowing that it is the monthly letter day? I so love your monthly letters.

Hmmm...that was sort of stalkerish. Sorry! But I do enjoy them. They make me all teary eyed. Not only becasue they are so sweet, but because they do remind me off my shitty mum status for not doing them for my kids.

Julie said...

Awww, a boy and his dog - too cute. Any interest in an arranged marriage between Little Man and Emily? She's just 2 months his junior and likes older men - especially ones that enjoy grocery shopping, doggies and waffles.

BTW, I love that Avril song. Sort of along the same genre - I'm also digging that new Pink song. Abby loves it - mainly b/c of Pink's name - as pink is her favorite color.

jesse said...

I love your letter, and yes we moms must stockpile those kisses because one day they'll all of a sudden be embarresed. You know I use to laugh at the mamm's boy growing up but not now. Chunky Monkey is my little mama's boy and probably will always be. *But don't worry I know when to let go-I'm not crazy or anything.*

monster's momma said...

loverly.

Kellie said...

Awww...how sweet :) Love the picture of Little Man and his doggie!!

Morgan and I jam to Avril's song, too. And, to Pink's "U+UR Hand" and most likely to Gwen Stefani's "The Sweet Escape" :)

Very nice post to your little boy. Print it and put it in his baby book!!

Gerbil said...

That post was so much fun to read. And I laughed really hard at the maple syrup thing...

Rachel said...

I just love these letters that you write to Little Man. I predict that when he is much older, he will love them too.

And, yeah, he's gonna beating the girls off with a stick! Well, except for Alyssa.