Housekeeping at Twenty One Months
Dear Milo,
The good news is that your separation anxiety ended abruptly a few weeks ago. Now when you see me head to the door in the morning you simply say, "Mama work," and then I have to prompt you to give me a hug goodbye because you are usually more interested in playing with your vacuum cleaner than dealing with the fact that I'm leaving. This has made life much easier for everyone involved, plus it's really nice on my part to be able to go to the bathroom by myself again.
The bad news is that you're more enjoyable to be around than ever before, which makes the leaving you part very hard on my end. The other day you were still awake when I came home at around 2PM, squawking awayin your crib, so I went in and picked you up. You chattered for a minute, then fixed me with a stare and said, "Mama," as though you were just noticing for the first time which human being had come in to get you. Then you beamed.
"Mama," you repeated, as though this was the most wonderful sound in the world, as though the fact that I had rematerialized from that mysterious "work" place in the middle of the day was almost more joy than you could bear. This was promptly followed by "Read a book. Sidewalk Ends."
You love poetry. Have I mentioned that? You do - it's the first thing I feel like I can really share with you and enjoy together. We giggle over Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout who would not take the garbage out, make funny noises during I'm Being Eaten By A Boa Constrictor, and you always do all the animal sounds when I read The Farmer And The Queen.
You also continue to love music. You like to dance, and when you go down for your nap sometimes you can spend over an hour in your crib singing. I Love You A Bushel and a Peck is still your hands-down favorite, although you've also been getting interested in the Woodie Guthrie kids' songs CD that your father bought, so sometimes you sing a few lines from Don't You Push Me or Let's Go Riding in the Car.
It is almost possible to have a conversation with you these days - we're getting close. Eating, on the other hand, has fallen by the wayside. You have pretty much no interest in meals unless someone is eating them with you, or they are being served at a restaurant, at which point you usually devour an entire adult-sized portion of food. Other than that, you take three or four bites of a meal and then declare yourself done. There are much more interesting things to do, buttons to push, floors to sweep, songs to sing. You cannot be bothered with something as trivial and mundane as sustinence.
And yes, the sweeping. The sweeping continutes. I had a dream last night that you picked up your little lime green nerf football and threw a perfect spiral. Apparently my subconscious is concerned that you are too much into cleaning and not enough into sports. My waking self is happy to let you be you, though.
I love you a bushel and a peck,
Mama
The good news is that your separation anxiety ended abruptly a few weeks ago. Now when you see me head to the door in the morning you simply say, "Mama work," and then I have to prompt you to give me a hug goodbye because you are usually more interested in playing with your vacuum cleaner than dealing with the fact that I'm leaving. This has made life much easier for everyone involved, plus it's really nice on my part to be able to go to the bathroom by myself again.
The bad news is that you're more enjoyable to be around than ever before, which makes the leaving you part very hard on my end. The other day you were still awake when I came home at around 2PM, squawking awayin your crib, so I went in and picked you up. You chattered for a minute, then fixed me with a stare and said, "Mama," as though you were just noticing for the first time which human being had come in to get you. Then you beamed.
"Mama," you repeated, as though this was the most wonderful sound in the world, as though the fact that I had rematerialized from that mysterious "work" place in the middle of the day was almost more joy than you could bear. This was promptly followed by "Read a book. Sidewalk Ends."
You love poetry. Have I mentioned that? You do - it's the first thing I feel like I can really share with you and enjoy together. We giggle over Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout who would not take the garbage out, make funny noises during I'm Being Eaten By A Boa Constrictor, and you always do all the animal sounds when I read The Farmer And The Queen.
You also continue to love music. You like to dance, and when you go down for your nap sometimes you can spend over an hour in your crib singing. I Love You A Bushel and a Peck is still your hands-down favorite, although you've also been getting interested in the Woodie Guthrie kids' songs CD that your father bought, so sometimes you sing a few lines from Don't You Push Me or Let's Go Riding in the Car.
It is almost possible to have a conversation with you these days - we're getting close. Eating, on the other hand, has fallen by the wayside. You have pretty much no interest in meals unless someone is eating them with you, or they are being served at a restaurant, at which point you usually devour an entire adult-sized portion of food. Other than that, you take three or four bites of a meal and then declare yourself done. There are much more interesting things to do, buttons to push, floors to sweep, songs to sing. You cannot be bothered with something as trivial and mundane as sustinence.
And yes, the sweeping. The sweeping continutes. I had a dream last night that you picked up your little lime green nerf football and threw a perfect spiral. Apparently my subconscious is concerned that you are too much into cleaning and not enough into sports. My waking self is happy to let you be you, though.
I love you a bushel and a peck,
Mama
Labels: Housekeeping
posted by Hana @ 8:43 AM
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