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Monthly Archives: August 2013

Dear Corwin,

You cried yesterday because Ninay took away the pillowcase you were playing with. I explained to you why it had to be taken away, but you were inconsolable. We were cooped up at home for four days running because you had a fever during the weekend and it’s been storming, so you were a bit on edge. I asked you, “Are you sad?” You stopped and thought about it for one second, and in the middle of a fresh sob, you shook your head and said, “Nooo! Mad!!” Your father and I immediately looked at each other, and it took all my will power not to burst out laughing. That was new and so unexpected. My dear sweet boy. It’s really good that you’re starting to verbally identify feelings beyond “happy” and “sad” now. You must’ve picked it up from the books we read together. We told you it’s okay to be angry, and after a minute of “calm down time” (different from a time out, where I occasionally have to wrestle you to make you sit still, you feisty little thing) and a couple of kisses later, we were all back to playing.

Last week, we took you to the play gym and you saw a nanny roughhousing with a 3 year old girl inside the rolling barrel. The little girl was screaming her head off and laughing. You and your dad roughhouse at home sometimes, but nothing that extreme, so it was something quite new to you. You didn’t know she was having fun and thought she was being hurt, so you ran up to them and tried tugging the nanny’s leg that was sticking out of the barrel to pull her away from the girl. If I weren’t so worried the nanny would accidentally kick you with her flailing legs, I would’ve laughed myself silly. My baby, the knight in shining armor. You make me so happy, you have no idea how much.

You are 21 months and 13 days old. This is my third letter to you this month. I am loving August and being able to spend more time with you. I needed this.

Love,
Mommy

Dear Corwin,

I woke up this morning to you walking all around the room, counting your footsteps, one to ten, over and over again. You’ve been counting to ten easily for a couple of weeks now. You’re 21 months and 10 days old today. I figured today is as good a day as any to start teaching you numbers 11 to 15. You can also identify all the letters of the alphabet in uppercase, so now we’re starting on lowercase letters and letter sounds, too.

You’re now speaking in 2 and 3-word sentences, and sometimes say all three syllables in three syllable words, like “screwdriver”. I tell you I love you, and you say back to me, “Ayabyouuu.” You give me morning kisses, hello kisses, and good night kisses, and all is well with my world.

Your dad taught you to dance like John Travolta in Pulp Fiction, and our family dance-and-giggle-fests remain the highlight of my days. You prefer reading with your dad than with me. I would mind, but you clap your hands when I sing to you, and shake your head and walk away when he does. Hahaha.

Teaching you is a lot of fun, and I am proud of you, my love. Sometimes I wonder if I should have started actively teaching you things sooner, because you’re a bright little thing and I know you can handle it, but I don’t want to push you. We’re doing it at a pace where you find learning fun, and I don’t feel like I’m pulling a Tiger Mom on you. I know you’re very smart, and you’re going to do amazing things when you’re older, but for now, there is no rush. We have no deadlines. You can be 21 months and 10 days old today.

Love,
Mommy

Dear Corwin,

You are turning 21 months old in 2 days. We took you to the beach for the very first time last week, with your Tita Jenny and baby cousin Lucas. I love seeing you two boys together. I can already imagine the trouble you’re going to get yourselves into when he’s a toddler and can physically keep up with you.

You don’t really enjoy car rides and only tolerate your carseat for about an hour, at best, so we kept putting off taking you to the beach. But you’re almost 2 years old now and just a little bit more patient because you understand us better. Never mind that it was July and rainy.

It started drizzling when we arrived at the beach house, but we changed into our swimsuits anyway. You were tentative, stepping on the sand, but pretty soon you were grabbing sand by the handful and showering us all with it. I now know what sand tastes like.

We had the beach all to ourselves in the middle of torrential downpour. I can’t remember the last time I played in the rain. There is a pure joy that comes with it, and even more overwhelmingly so, when you’re doing it with your own child. It’s not as carefree for me now as your parent, as it was when I did it as a child myself and when your father and I did before you came along. I worried that you would get sand into your eyes, among other things. I’ve come to accept this as a reality of life as a mother, that I will always worry about you and how you are. But your smiles and laughter alone more than compensate for that, every single day. And I was truly, profoundly happy to have experienced that with you.

I wish we took you to the beach sooner, but in a way, I’m glad we waited this long. The look of wonder and realization on your face as you took it all in for the first time is something I’ll keep with me forever.

Love,
Mommy