Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Twenty-Eight Months: My Letter to Little Man

So my biggest discovery this month? Is that you're more than likely to become an Airman. You have this love of flying that is so palpable, that I think the six rows on each side of us on the plane were as excited as you were. You might not know that your dad wanted to fly very, very badly, but couldn't due to his bad knees. Maybe his dreams have somehow merged with my love of travel and have created this little flying monster who since getting off the plane three days ago has begged me every single day to take the airplane again. If we were billionaires, my Little Man, I would take you on a plane every day, just to see that look of sheer delight on your face as we taxied down the runway, gathering speed, the scenery speeding by your wide blue eyes and as we ascended, I'd love to hear you yell "I coming clouds! Don't worry, clouds! I coming!"

And for the last two days, the first words out of your mouth when you wake up in the morning have been "I go on airplane?" I think you've been bitten bad, kid.

I guess I was meant to have you come into my life to help me rediscover the greatness of the world around me. To rediscover the amazing coldness of snow and be reminded that it tastes slightly of acid rain as it melts on your tongue. To find out once again that there's no greater pleasure than taking a walk around the neighborhood and find the reddest leaf that has fallen down and identify every bark, every chirp and every vroom that we hear. I've also discovered that nothing sounds better than the crunching of leaves squished by a squealing toddler's jump.

Living with you this month has been a little like living with Jennifer Lopez, where the list of your crazy requests change every day and you expect things to be a certain way. Like just the other day when you decided that from now on, you would only drink milk, juice and water from my mug with the cow on it. Should anyone deign offer you a drink in a sippy cup, you get mad, because damn it, that's a "baby cup!" and you, as we all know, are not a baby.

Your father gets mad at me for catering to these requests of yours, but the way I look at it is that you're a well-behaved child who gives us no trouble. So if all it takes to make you happy is give you liquids in a specific mug, then really, what's the harm? After all, I like things a certain way too and being the grown up, I get to decide every day what I want to eat. Of course, there are certain requests I've had to deny, like your request at every single meal for "hot dogs, two hot dogs, Mama." I swear I'm going to call PETA and have them send me a DVD on how hot dogs are made and replace that for your Finding Nemo DVD, just to scare you off of them and maybe move you on to something healthier, like say, fried batter coated sticks of butter.

My attempts at pushing you towards semi-healthy processed foods has backfired on me recently, as apparently, my answer to everything has been "do you want a Nutrigrain?" This led you the other day to say to me "No Mama, no Nutrigrain, I've had it with the Nutrigrain." Which I directly interpret that sentence as something you picked up from me rather than TV. It's nice to know that I have an influence on you too. Of course I usually use those words in conjunction with things like Rosie O'Donnell's rants or the writers' strike that will soon seriously interfere with my TV watching.

You continue to make me laugh daily with your views of the world. I don't think I've ever cared about what someone thinks of snow or leaves or cold weather or a million other benign things as I do with you. You continue to be extremely cautious and when exposed to snow during our stay in Canada, you promptly asked "what is that?" We explained that it's called snow, and you just shook your head and sighed that "snow make a mess." Which no truer words were ever spoken. When we took you outside and asked you if you wanted to touch the snow, you gave us one of your signature are-you-crazy looks and said "no thank you." A mere five days into our seven-day trip, you finally decided to touch snow for the first time. And you were in awe. "That's cold!" you exclaimed and then you decided to taste the snow, and with your obsession with ice (you can't have water without at least three ice cubes in it), it was no surprise that you declared the snow to be yummy. Yummy indeed.

This month has also seen one of our biggest battles, you and I. You, with your love of bare feet, me on the other side of the battlefield clutching footed pajamas for you to wear. This caused many tears for many nights, but damn it Little Man, I can't be the first mother to lose her toddler to pneumonia because she let him sleep barefoot in Canada. I'm pleased to say that I finally won the battle and despite a snotty nose, you remain, for the most part, healthy as a horse.

As we enter another year, I can't help but be excited about what lies ahead. What adventures you and I will have. What conversations we'll have. What you'll decide you like, what you'll decide you hate. To continue to watch you grow and develop, your personality forming and evolving every day has been the biggest thrill of my life.

A part of me worried when I decided to take the plunge and have children that I'd be giving so much up and whether I was really willing to give those things up. At this point, I look at you and I'm puzzled. Because I honestly don't remember giving anything up. Especially when I see how much I've gained. I can't imagine a world that wouldn't have you on it. I would imagine that it must be a dreary bleek place, one where people don't know happiness and have forgotten how to laugh.

I'm not really sure how it came to be decided that we'd get to be your parents. I still sometimes worry that someone will realize they've made a terrible mistake and that you aren't in fact meant to be for us, that we weren't supposed to get the perfect child that you are. And in your place, they'd leave a unibrow cranky child who hates me.

And then you go into what I call your water torture questioning tactic to get what you want. And I realize that you are indeed meant for me.

CRAYONS???? from Catwoman InTexas on Vimeo.

I love you my little man.



Morgan Leigh said...

What a cute video! "Crayon?" haha.

And, adorable pictures. :) Little Man is absolutely adorable.


ps- I am the first comment! :)

AndreAnna said...

I love your monthly letters - they're so sweet!

Jesse said...

I really love your letters and the pictures are all so cute. Well I hope you had a great Christmas and New Year.

Anonymous said...

Seriously? Could this kid be any more adorable?! :)

Sandy said...

Please tell me that you are printing these out and scrapbooking them, right? Please?

Or print them out and put them in those clear sleeves and let the little man have his own book of him.

You are doing such a great thing here.

AnGlOpHiLe FoOtBaLl FaNaTiC said...

Okay, why am the only one slightly disturbed by the attack of the killer moose??!!! What the??? That poor kid will be up for weeks screaming about "When Moose Attack" the video.

random_mommy said...

Beautiful as always...

Wonderful World of Weiners said...

Little Man makes me wish my NOT SO LITTLE MEN were LITTLE MEN again!!

Thanks for keeping CJ in your thoughts and for checking on his progress.

Hallie :-)

Squishy Tushy said...

In 14 years, teenage girls from all over the state are going to be banging down your door to get just a piece of your little man!

Stefanie said...

That was really sweet. But I am kind of drunk right now.

Haphazardkat said...

OMG at the moose pic!! Lord I want a video of what happened with the moose and the carrot (?) little man is clutching in his innocent hands!! ha ha ha!

Beccy said...

Wow, I've only been away about six weeks and your little man has grown so much.

Happy new year.

Rachel said...

If I lived in Texas I would come and steal that boy! He is soooo freakin cute!!

That pic of him sitting on the counter, is that a pullup he has on????

"J" said...

He is soooooooooooooooooooooo CUTE!!!!!