22 months

Dear Milo,

It's been 22 months since you were born. Sometimes it feels like you've been in my life forever. I lived a long time before you were born but doesn't always feel that way. For instance, when I think about your daddy's and my trip to Hawaii, I'll sometimes forget that you were only there in my tummy. And really, just barely there. A tiny little bump.

But you're the biggest -- best -- part of my life now so it's hard to remember when you weren't around. It's even hard sometimes to remember what it was like before you were running around, climbing onto the chairs and table, saying, "Go" for "yes," calling people by their names (or a close approximation of it) and actually reading letters of the alphabet when I point them out to you.

That last one amazes me the most. You know A, B, D, E, I, K, O, M, R, X, Y and Z. You don't always want to read them to me but I know that you recognize those letters on a regular basis. I'm just positive I have a genius in the making.

I know there have been a few days recently when I have been less that patient with you. I'm not sure if it's the time of year or what, but I know I have. I don't like being that way, especially with you. I have snapped at you a couple of times and, as soon as it happens, I feel terrible. I've been trying to take deep breaths when I feel cranky. And I've been trying to teach you to take deep breaths as well, with less than stellar results. You can really throw a fit when you want to.

You can also be extremely sweet. Just yesterday, you did one of the sweetest things ever -- right on the heels of headbutting me, that is. I was holding you, singing the alphabet, while you headbutted me to each letter. Suddenly, you stopped and pushed my bangs out of my eyes, gave me the sweetest smile, then snuggled against my shoulder. It was awesome.

Most of what you do is pretty awesome, but that was really, really awesome. As I've said many times, you amaze me every day. I love you very much, my little man.

Love,
Mama

Ch-ch-changes

The more things change ...

Bath time February 2013

the more they stay the same.

Bath time February 2012

Happy Monday!

What I wish

Dear Milo,

I'm writing to you because your Grandma Louise passed away five years ago today and I wanted to say a few words to you about her. It's been hard living without her. And I wish she had gotten to meet you. And I wish you had gotten to know her and spend time with her. She would have spoiled you rotten.

Grandma Louise with your cousins Heather and Spencer

One day, you will have to ask your cousins about Grandma Louise. I'm sure they will have fun stories to share.

Grandma was a great mom. She did crafts with me and your uncles. She led my Brownies and their Cub Scouts. She let our friends come and play. She made us treats of all kinds when we had play dates and sleepovers. She made these amazing birthday cakes for us and played board games.

But she didn't let us get away with foolishness. Although, I'm pretty sure she let her grandkids get away with a lot more than she would have put up with from her own children. But that's OK. Grandmas are supposed to do that. I bet you would have gotten away with way more than I ever did. (Don't tell your cousins, but I think you would have been her favorite.)

How could you not be?

It may sound silly, but I think she's looking out for us still. I wasn't supposed to be able to have you, yet here you are -- beautiful and perfect. She must have had some say in that. She created so many beautiful things when she was alive, from her own children (yes, I include myself in that because I think I turned out OK) to crafts and cakes and memories. 

You will never want for love, my wonderful son, because Grandma Louise left you terrific uncles and cousins -- as well as in-laws and your own parents -- who were influenced by our love for this wonderful woman.

I wish you could have met her in person. At least I know that you will know her because she left such a lasting impression on all of us who did meet her and who love her dearly still.

She will always be in your heart, Sweetness, because she loves you, even though you never met.

Love,

Mama

11 More Things I've Learned

When Milo was just slightly more than 1 year old, I wrote 11 Things I've Learned As a Mom.  Milo is now nearly 2, so I give you 11 more things I've learned as a mom.

1. I can endure one more viewing of a movie or TV show if it makes my boy happy.
2. I can -- and readily do -- share food with my child, even if it's the last cookie in the package.
3. Hearing my son say, "Mama" for the first time was one of the most thrilling moments in my life.
4. Watching my son hit milestones is bittersweet. I am so happy with his progress and so sad that time is flying.
5. Even when I'm impatient, I'm way more patient with my kid than I would have believed 10 years ago.
6. I haven't found -- or made -- any additional time to blog. Despite my best intentions.
7. Boogers are way more gross than poop, pee or even vomit.
8. Even though boogers are gross, I am capable of wiping my son's nose with my bare hand. If I really have to.

9. As much fun as it is to talk to a toddler, talking to other grown-ups on a regular basis is the only way I will stay sane.
10. Dinosaurs are totally awesome ... as are fire trucks, trains and helicopters.
11.  Love for this kid continues to grow beyond what I believed was my heart's capacity.

21 months

Dear Milo,

What the what. How did you get to be 21 months old? No really. So much of the past 21 months has been a blur. I'm already starting to think about your second birthday party.

This last month has been especially crazy. You have made such advances in your behavior and your language skills. And you have such a cute and funny personality.

You've suddenly become quite social with other kids. You play really well with other little boys. Today, at the grocery store you wanted to climb out of the cart to go play with another boy about your age. He tried to climb out too. His mommy and I had to strap you boys down. It was very cute.

You finally got to play later today with one of your friends from The Little Gym, and the two of you had a laugh riot playing together. You got a shiny new haircut during our play date today too. Afterwards, you were standing across the room. I called to you to get a better look at your hair. You turned toward me, and, with your new haircut, you suddenly looked a lot like your Uncle Jim when he was little.

Uncle Jim and Uncle Joe

Unfortunately, you were wore out from playing all afternoon and didn't want to pose for a good picture. But I am seeing a lot more of me and my family features in your little face. It's pretty cool and you're still really cute. So it's OK for you to look like anybody. As long as you're still you.

Can you see the resemblance?

Our second Christmas together was a ton of fun. You really got into opening presents. You really liked your new Meowsic kitty keyboard and your wooden train set.

The train was more fun out of the box.

You had your first (and hopefully not last) white Christmas. You love the snow and still want to play in the dirty piles that linger for a long time around here. (I don't let you!)

Trying to make a snow angel on Christmas Day

You've started mimicking words and sounds more and more so I've told Daddy he needs to work on cleaning up his language. One of our favorite games right now is what does the animal say. I ask, "What does the monkey say?" And you answer, "Oh oh ah." I ask, "What does the dinosaur say?" and you reply, "Rawr!" You have a pretty large repertoire now, including chicken, dog, cat, elephant and train conductor. It's awesome. And so are you.

Every day, even when I'm exhausted, even when I'm frustrated because you're frustrated, even when you don't do exactly what I ask of you, you make me laugh and smile. You make me proud to be your mom. You make me so happy.

I love you, baby. (Even if you aren't a baby any more.)

Love,
Mama

Daddy Talk: Plans and procrastination

Ambition without direction is nothing, or at least it has been that way with me. I have been trying to figure out what to do with my life for the last since forever. I jump from self-help thing to self-help thing but pretty much half ass it because I really can't dedicate my time indefinitely. I think I figure if I get the right one I get to be rich, right? 

I was reviewing what I have done to this point in my life, one thing that bubbles up is not really sticking to things as much as I would like. I do a lot of things but master none. That's all things not Milo. When I look at him I have at least an 18-year plan for the little guy. He has college money coming, we will move to the good side of town for his education, I have plans for his first car -- all sorts of plans for the guy that I move forward on. I am not sure what the difference is with planning for him and planning for myself. With him, I just do. Mostly.

I look at my life and think that I have time to get my things accomplished but when I look at my son I know that to hit those milestones, I have to be prepared. I don't know why it doesn't work so much the other way. I know that my parents didn't really plan things out for me. Any choices they made seemed to mostly go with the flow, as it were. They just dealt with things as they came. I know that it left a lot up to me, and I really didn't handle it well. Even though they pushed me to get good grades they didn't help prepare me for what happened after the good grades.

I want to give Milo that and more. So much more.

Daddy Talk: New Year

New Year and new things. Everyday I look forward to waking up and seeing what that kid does. He jumps by leaps and bounds, sometimes it's nothing, sometimes so much. It's funny how I don't notice things unless I look back on pictures and try to remember that this little guy was once so little and wasn't as accomplished as he is today. I look back on pictures from last Christmas and see how much he changed over this last year and I'm astonished. Everyday he changes and I lose track of how different he is from day to day.

It's exciting to see the changes, mostly I look forward to what happens to us next. I really look forward to the new things he will do. It's exciting, especially when I think about how it's new for him just like it's new to me.