Letter from Mama, v14

You are 14 months old today, lil' dude.
I chose the picture above because it best describes you as a 14 month old: insane. Sweet insane.

These days, our house rings with the sound of your sweet laugh and tiny little words. You are a whirling dervish who go, go, goes. Your energy and imagination and determination are endless. I joke with your aunties how I need duct tape for your little tushie sometimes- but I don't mean it. I would never hold you down or make you stop.

The other day, you were playing at a friends' with some plastic balls that go in and out of a shoot, catapulting them into the air. This was pure joy for you. When you lost a ball under the toy box though, you crawled on your belly and extended your little arm as far as it would reach. "Oh oh, Mama!" you kept repeating, too distracted by the ball loss to continue playing. I retrieved the ball for you, you grinned, and began playing again. It's instances like this where I can see you turning into a tiny, minuscule person who has thoughts and ideas and processes information in the ways adults do, like Mama and Daddy. It's amazing to watch you grow and transform and it happens so quickly.

This month, you've established a left-hand preference. You insist on walking down any flights of stairs, while holding some one's hand. You can sign please (with much prompting) and dole out high-fives without restraint. You pick out the books you want read to you. You like raisins, dipping all your food, taking off your clothes at bedtime, and handing Mama and Daddy our phones and the remote. All these little big things you didn't do just weeks ago. You're working on sharing- meaning, you will let about anyone take anything from you without wanting it back, or voicing your dismay. That characteristic, lil' dude, that easygoing demeanor of yours, you get from Daddy. You two are so chill. When I see that happen, I want to intercede and make things right for you. But I don't. You have to learn on your own how to work things out so you get what's fair, so you understand compromise. I trust you'll get there.

At night, when I sneak into your room before I go to sleep, I lean down to hear your little puffs of breath. I stay for just a few seconds, listening and being so thankful for you. You know what? There is nothing I would change about you, lil' dude. Nothing I think would make you better. You have everything and do everything you are supposed to. I hope I always remember that, as you continue to grow and become and more and more than you already are. Keep reminding me, baby girl. You are exactly the way you are supposed to be.

Mama loves.