March 4, 2009

Dear Jack, Month 21

Dear Jack,

While there were some rough patches to our family vacation (specifically, the car rides to and from) I feel like we know each other better because of our time together. It could be because of the vacation, but I suppose it could also be because you're suddenly having conversations with us. You let us know when you like or dislike something. You tell us when you're feeling sad, happy, silly or excited. You joke with us and you share with us. It's like we're becoming friends. We've been together almost non-stop for 2 1/2 weeks. You'll be with babysitter the next two days and I think I might go through a little bit of withdrawal. I don't want to miss anything!

You show so much affection, Jack. Your dad was putting you down for the night yesterday and you squeezed him and said "Love you, daddy" (which actually sounds more like, "Wuv you, datty). You've told each of us that you love us before, but adding that "daddy" at the end was really special for him and it was neat for me to hear, too. An hour later, we were both still thinking about it. It almost erased my memory of you jumping up and down in your pack and play, shrieking and spitting on the floor while I was trying to get you to nap yesterday. Almost. God bless the people in the room next to us.

You are definitely showing us that you are a boy. You think it's funny to talk about tooting and burping, but thanks to your dad and I you usually say, "excuse me" when you do either of these things. After you saw Mickey Mouse, you walked over to your dad, giggled and said, "Mickey tooted." Whether or not that was true, we may never now. But we got a kick out of it nonetheless.

Speaking of kicking, it's one of your favorite pasttimes. You like to kick, and while you know that you should reserve that for soccer balls and kick balls, you don't always adhere to that rule. Sometimes, you'll just point and declare something a soccer ball . . . something like, oh, my ankle . . . and give yourself permission to kick it. Which results in the inevitable "time out." You kick when we change your diaper, you kick the back of our seats in our car, you kick your toys, you kick Murphy's toys, you kick Murphy . . . I see a potential future in soccer, buddy.

You are changing so much every day. You say so many funny things and do so many incredible things that it's impossible to keep track of them all. I am so happy to be your mom, Jack. I thank God every day for the privilege. But even if I weren't your mom, I'd be honored just to know you.


1 comment:

Maria W. said...

I LOVE this age, 20 months is when I felt like my babies started to turn into their own little beings. It is so fun to watch their personalities and quirks unfold:)