Monday, June 04, 2007

Twenty-One Months: My Letter to Little Man

On Saturday, you turned 21 months, so we celebrated by taking you to Little Gym, where a little boy your size shoved you and hurt your feelings really, really bad to the point that I had to take you out of the class because your sobs were becoming quite disruptive. And as I held you in the lobby, your head nestled in my neck, your warm tears soaking my T-shirt, I realized that even though you're 25 pounds and can do so many things by yourself now, you're still my Little Man. And I want you to know that never, ever will I tell you that you shouldn't cry, that you shouldn't be sensitive, because the fact that you have such a big heart is one of the many things that makes people fall under your spell.


This month has been a little like living with an alien being, one who has all these secret skills that we are just starting to uncover. Like we had no idea that if we ask you what sound a bird makes, you flap your arms like wings. Or that you know your ABC's. Or that you've discovered how to stop the spread of the bird flu, saving potentially millions of lives.

Well, we don't know that last one for sure, because you refuse to admit it, but I'll tell you this much, your father and I are on to you.


Sometimes we worry that you're so much smarter than us that you'll look down on us by the time you're three. Like learning you ABC's? Seriously? Dude, you're not even two years-old! Who does that? And where did you learn that anyway? School? Sesame Street? Either way, it'd be even better if you'd perform on command, because people don't believe us when we tell them.

And I think you might be learning Russian with a flashlight in your crib at night, because A, B, C sound very clear, but then you switch to some foreign alphabet we don't know, just to mess with us, only to go back to English, where you finish strong from Q to Z.

Or you might not give a crap about any of those middle letters. Which I can't blame you, I've told you since the start that the ending of anything is the best part beside the beginning. Like ice cream, for example. The first bite? Incredible. The last bite? So satisfying. The middle? OK, I guess.

I'm guessing school is where you're learning all these things, which led your uncle to recently state that maybe if we hadn't wasted the first year of your life by making you stare at me make funny faces at you, you'd be solving quantum physics equations by now.

So I must apologize for standing in your way. I promise from now on to stand on the sidelines with a banana and some M&M's and let you do your thing. And I'll cheer you on, no matter what. Because my mission in life is to always be your biggest fan.

This month has also been one of extremes. I guess this is what they call the terrible two's. Where you'll laugh and entertain us one minute, and all of a sudden the sky will turn dark and you'll tear a new hole in the ozone layer with a fit that could puncture the ear drum of someone ten miles away.

The smallest things can set you off. Like if I try to feed you the first bite of yogurt? Well, that's an offense punishable by death. Or this one time, I told you that you couldn't play with the steak knives and it angered you so much, you set the house on fire just with the power of your mind.

But the good times, oh how good they are my Little Man. You talk so much and have so much to say now. And you'll repeat anything we say so that you now tell the dog to "MOOOO-VEEE!" exactly like we say it and you say "Oh Man!" when you drop something or trip.

If we ask you if you've pooped, you sigh, and say "Yeah." Which has me highly excited, because it means we're one step closer to the end of the nuclear waste that we call your diapers. I'll be honest with you, dude, the diaper changing is probably my least favorite thing about having a toddler. Because I swear, when we're not watching, you must be eating plutonium. There is no way something that stinky can come out of a human being.

Riding in the car with you now is such a blast, because you notice everything. As we go on our way, you'll point out planes, cars, cows and so many other things that I'd never notice without you.


I wish I could freeze you in time, because I'm afraid that the years will just slip through our fingers and I'm just not ready to let go of this stage. I remember reading in a newspaper before you came along that human beings need to laugh every day in order to live to an old age. I remember reading that article and worrying that I wasn't laughing every day. And that made me sad. But now that you're in my life, I can say that I'll probably live forever, because every single day, you make me laugh so hard that tears will run down my face. To which you always look at me, wag your finger in my face and say "no crying."

Did I mention your sensitive side?

Love,

Maman.

9 comments:

Julie said...

Very sweet!

Kellie said...

Beautiful--print it and put it in his baby book!!!

He's such an awesome, smart, loving little man because has has some seriously kickin' parents guiding him through life :)

Loukia said...

Beautiful post! Awww... how fast they grow, huh? He is such a cutie, too! :)

Rachel said...

I love your letters to Little Man! Great pics of him, he's getting so big! The picture of him sleeping is just too damn cute!

random_mommy said...

ABC's??!?! Is he that kid in the commercial naming all of the US Presidents???
He needs a wool blazer and some cute glasses.

That Chick Over There said...

Good gravy, he is PRECIOUS!

Alpha Dude 1.5 said...

I do believe that this Little Man has some pretty awesome parents!

M said...

As usual this made me cry. When doesn't it. I want to know how the hell he's only a month older than Liam. Might Little Man send over those Russian flashcards when he's done because Liam's definitely not up to the super powers of your fantastic child. (Though, evidently, he could eat him for dinner. SERIOUSLY only 25 pounds? My back is so jealous.)

And hooray for being a good mama who encourages and doesn't stifle that sensitivity. It'll be fantastic when he's older.

As if the ABC's, solving world peace, and ability to turn back time weren't enough. ;)

Elle said...

That's so awesome!! Something to cherish! Your little guy is so lucky to have a mama like you!