You turned 17 months a few days ago. You’re currently enrolled in a few sessions of toddler summer school with your friend, Hero. I feel an attachment to her because you were born just a week apart. You’re growing up at the same time. Also, because she’s insanely cute. The two of you together is sometimes too much cuteness for me to process. You are the two youngest in the class, and one time you both led everyone in an impromptu dance to Two Little Blackbirds. I nearly died laughing.
It’s a bit of a challenge making you sit still in class. You do fine during the singing and movement activities, but as soon as that’s done, it’s near impossible. You want to walk around, tinker with the toy sink, and explore with your favorite thing, the orange cooking pan.
Every single day we go, you walk up to the most well-behaved kid in the circle, crouch in front of her, and say, “Up! UP!” with a nod or two of encouragement. It’s hilarious. You’re really, really not supposed to encourage them to walk around like you, but it’s sweet that you want to see her more engaged. And today, you befriended the little boy who cries everyday, and you hugged each other tight. I think this was the first class we’ve had together wherein he didn’t cry.
We’re still teaching you boundaries and more rules, but for now, I am more than content in the fact that your father and I are raising a friendly, kind, and empathic child. Sometimes I think you’re much too friendly for parents like us. You wave at all the children and pretty girls and women you meet. But I am happy that you’re secure and confident. And I love your compassion. I love your heart. Never lose that.