Monday, July 19, 2010
Fourteen (and a half) Months
Dear Jackson -
Well, sorry buddy, this is really late. This month has been amazing and frustrating as you get older. You continue to figure out more every day, which is what provides the amazement and some big time frustration too.
Your vocabulary has not grown too much, but that does not stop you from carrying on long conversations of what we call "Jackson Chatter." Sometimes we swear you say "this" and "that" but mostly it's just noise with inflection. It's darling, although we're ready for "mommy" to reappear in your noises. You know who Mommy is, as you'll point to her whenever you hear her name brought up, but you don't say it anymore. You do say "Dadda" a lot, especially when you hear Mommy whistle the family whistle to get his attention. (By the way, if you don't have a family whistle, you're missing out. It makes navigating crowds so much easier. Ours is the first four notes of the theme song from "Sanford and Son", arguably the best theme song ever.)
You may not say them , but you know what a lot of words mean now. You can point to your nose and ears and mouth and teeth, but you have trouble with eyes (both recognizing the word and poking people too hard in them when you remember what the word means). You have shown a lot of stubbornness learning what the word "no" means, and a general lack of understanding of both the threat of time out and its purpose. I'm sure you'll master these with time. The words "sleep" and "night-night" have been learned and hated. You respond when we ask you to do things, like put your cup on the table, push a button on your Little People Garage, or play us a song.
You also only care for saying "bye-bye" - you never tell people hello. You will usually say "bye-bye" a little after the fact, waving to someone as we have driven away. You refuse to learn the word "Annyong," no matter how often Daddy teaches you it. You'll get it one day.
You think "uh-oh" means "I dropped something on the floor intentionally" instead of "an accident has occurred, please advise." The preemptive "uh-oh" gets our reflexes sharpened to pluck a falling cup out of mid-air.
Without a doubt, no word holds your interest like "door." You point out anything remotely like a door and proudly identify it. Books, rectangles, doors, windows, cars - they all seem to fit your understanding of what a door should be. (Anything circular is a ball, by the same logic.) We are sure your ability to show people doors will serve you well in your future career as a bouncer. (Remember Swayze's rules - be nice.)
You have been nice to a lot of new friends this summer. At the Children's Museum and at playgroup, you have shared and smiled at new friends. When we were houseguests and when we had houseguests, you were very sweet and not scared at all. When we went out for sno-cones with Kingsley and Kristen, you waved at cars passing by for about thirty minutes, telling them "bye-bye," of course. Since then, other cars have had the same greeting. You give very nice hugs to Mommy and Daddy, and you have a complicated relationship with the puppies - you love to try and feed them, but you also want to smack them in an ungentle way. They continue to be wary of you, but a little less so.
You got very lucky when Mommy and Daddy changed the house around. We converted the gameroom/man-cave to the playroom, where most of your toys are located. You now spend a few hours in the room each day, playing with your toys as Daddy or Mommy relaxes on the couch. (That's where Daddy is typing this right now.) You also hit the Little People jackpot - all of the toys Mommy and Daddy bought at a garage sale nine months ago are finally yours to enjoy, so you have two farms, an airport, a school bus, a playground, a parking garage (your favorite), and a house to entertain Little People (and other assorted toys) and to play music incessantly. Nothing makes you happier and Daddy crazier than a good hour of pushing Little People buttons.
You also love cars and putting Little People into cars and making car noises.
You have two new teeth, bringing the total to eight. Teething has been brutal on all of us. You have not slept as well for a few weeks now, and the hand-chewing and slobbering have been pretty excessive.
You love books, aka doors. Smoky Mountain Wee Ones (from the Leos) is still tops with you, although the Mirror Me book (from the McGraths) is quickly rising up the charts.
You love coasters. As I say this, you are carrying two around your playroom filled with toys, putting them down and picking them up and talking to the dogs about them. You have now put them inside a Little People farm. You are now showing me the room's doors. This play-by-play might be the result of the second cup of coffee.
You hate naps. You will scream for as long as possible to avoid them. This is the worst part of the day. You also try to delay bedtime by asking for Mommy to point out the pictures of the elephant, monkey, and squirrels a few times. Nice try.
You like to drink from your big boy sippy cup, which means no more washing bottles all the time, which makes Daddy and Mommy very happy.
You're now advancing past walking to running. Being chased is one of your favorite things, as is being tickled. Combining the two brings you to Blississippi.
You are tall enough now to climb on the playroom couch and the coffee table, which makes Daddy and Mommy very scared. You've already had some spectacular somersault dismounts. Here you are celebrating atop Mount Couch with your sherpas.
You can't quite make it on the couch in the living room, so you throw fussy fits about this injustice. The fussy fits have been showing up a lot lately, thanks to your lack of naps. This is the second worst part of the day.
You still love shoes and socks, and you like to try and put socks on us, even if it just means laying the socks on our feet. You understand the relationship between shoes and leaving, as well as the relationship between leaving and Mommy's sunglasses and purse. You will randomly grab shoes or the purse and sunglasses and run towards the door, saying "bye-bye."
You suddenly dislike avocado. That's about all you dislike. You eat your vegetables and cheerios and fruit and meat and cereal without problem. You love yogurt, applesauce, and toast. You especially love peaches. If Mommy eats one, you will try and steal it, and you fail to understand when it is all gone.
Summer has gone by very quickly, as have the past fourteen and a half months. You fill up our days with your antics and you are the center of our universe. We love you so much, little goober/little monkey.