April 22, 2008
24 Months
Dear Bean,
It’s taken two years; twenty-four months of talking to you, saying mama over and over, constantly barraging you with the English language, and finally you speak full sentences. Mainly “MAMA, I FIND BOOGERS” and “POOP IS STINKY,” but occasionally you say something more publicly acceptable like “HEY MAMA, I HAVE A APPLE!” Hooray!
You talk constantly. Sometimes it’s cute, and sometimes it makes me want to gnaw my arm off from the incessant droning. I’m so glad that you like your Nemo jammies, honey, but if I have to hear about them for another hour, I’m going to hang myself with them. I realize that you can now better narrate the thoughts that are running through your head. It’s become obvious to me that you’re thinking all the time. Your little head is abuzz with Nemo jammies, balloons, and relentlessly wondering when the trash truck is coming next. There’s no downtime between your ears during the day, and I doubt that it stops at all while you sleep.
I have learned to be suspicious during those rare times when you stop talking. It only takes 30 seconds of silence to destroy the bathroom. You have a fascination with my toiletries. The other day I pulled a new bottle of bath soap out of the spares drawer only to find twenty Q-Tips suspended in it. You apparently took the time to shove twenty Q-Tips single-file into my bath soap. It looked like a very hygienic Jell-O mold. You also found my make-up, and went to town with it. Here’s what you did in the span of two phone calls while my back was turned:
You know your alphabet, with the exception of W. W gives you the creeps for some reason. Whenever I point it out and ask you what it is, you look at me as if I just asked you to kiss raw liver. I don’t know what W ever did to you to warrant the shun, but it must have been bad. Wrong. Weaselly. Wearisome. Or even worse, woeful.
The Shun is usually reserved for strangers, men especially, for the first ten or twenty minutes that you encounter them. You purse your lips, close your eyes, and turn away from strangers who have the audacity to say hello to you. You eyeball them plenty, but when they look at you, you snap into shun position faster than raisins disappear in your presence. Sometimes if you’re tired, Uncle Pat and Daddoo will get The Shun, and Daddy’s even gotten it a time or two. It’s funny to watch, but I think it stings them a little when you do it to family members.
You’ve adjusted well to your big girl bed, and we can trust you to stay in and fall asleep on your bed even if we leave your door open at night. Occasionally, we will find you asleep in the cottage in your room, but you haven’t yet had the idea to wander the house at night. It surprises me that you haven’t figured that out yet. It’s the perfect time to covertly shove things into the soap or smear yourself with all sorts of gooey things. I suppose it’s just a matter of time.
When you misbehave (and oh little one, how often you do!) we put you in time out. You stay willingly in the corner, which surprised me a little at first. In fact, after you served your sentence for the lipstick incident, I found you back in the corner. You sat there for a good twenty minutes on your own, even though I repeatedly said it was okay to come out. It’s guilt that keeps you in the corner. With Irish Catholic and Greek Orthodox genes in you, you will find guilt to be a ready companion throughout your life, I’m afraid.
You show little interest in potty training, which is fine by me. The doctor insists that I push you a little into it, but I’m reluctant to force you. You’ll get there eventually. Lovey will get there first, though. I was planted on the couch last week nursing your brother when I noticed that you had wandered off into the bathroom. Here is what I heard:
WUFFY WHERE YOU? WHERE YOU?
OHHH, WUFFY. (giggling)
WUFFY GO PEE PEE?
WUFFY PEE PEE! WUFFY PEE PEE!
(Splash splash splash)
So Lovey went straight into the washing machine. You don’t show any desire to use the toilet for anything other than dunking your best friend in it. Sorority Rush Week will be fun.
I love you so much little Bean. I love setting you on the kitchen counter and sharing banana chips with you. I love hearing MMMM! I WIKE IT! while we munch together. Being your mother is wowee, wild, wambly, and wondersome. I wike it, too.
Love,
Mama