web analytics
  • Dear Corwin

  • Home and Design

  • Travel

Monthly Archives: December 2013

Dear Corwin,

You are 2 years and 1.5 months old now. It’s like something magically switched on last month. You have become incredibly increasingly affectionate. You shower us with soooo many hugs and kisses now, and call it “lambing”. You do this a LOT. You ask for hugs, even from your carseat. My heart melts, and I still get so wonderfully overwhelmed at times. You weren’t a snuggly baby, and I would always get a bit sad when I saw other babies cuddled up to their moms. Cuddling for too long made you feel claustrophobic, so I only did it for as long as you still felt okay with it. And now you do it freely and on your own, and I can honestly say I have never ever been this happy before.

You’ve started speaking in 4-5 word sentences this month. For a moment there, I was a little bit worried that your speech development was stagnating. It didn’t make sense though because you started speaking early and already know about 150-200 words, and are quite opinionated and communicative. You say so many words, but wouldn’t string them together to make sentences longer than 3 words. So we read up on it and realized we were doing a few things wrong. Essentially, we were preemptively meeting your needs so much that you felt no need to communicate in complete sentences. After correcting that, we saw you improve in leaps and bounds within just a few days. I remember your Tita Benz once told me that efficient moms make for lazy kids, and that makes so much sense now, so I think it’s time for me to let go a little bit, and not make life too easy for you. I’ll be less anxious, and you can have more space to grow.

Toddlerhood is not without its challenges, and a few weeks ago, I texted your father jokingly that I was resigning. He replied that you wouldn’t accept my resignation, and I laughed out loud. Yes, you wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t either, you should know that by now. I am growing into this motherhood thing, just as much as you’re growing into being your own person. Both are hard, and we should be more forgiving of each other. We are both stubborn, but we have the same heart. If we love each other with everything we have, we can get through anything.

We spent yesterday, Christmas Eve, at Lolo Dan’s with the rest of the family, and you were so much more interested in handing out presents than receiving and opening them. You “helped” me wrap the presents a few days ago, and you chose this over watching Elmo. We woke up early this morning to open your presents, but you weren’t really that into it. I wanted you so much to open the gifts and be wide eyed over them, but I’m also really glad that you don’t care much for material things. I am so proud that you want for nothing, and not because we give you so much, but because what makes you happy are the little things like free paper hats and drinking straws. I asked you what you wanted for Christmas, and after some thought, you just asked for a balloon.

And this Christmas morning, you spent a total of two hours playing on your own, with your Lego train set from Grandma Alma. There’s some kind of magic to a little boy and his first train set. You’ll remember that when you have your own son. You’re growing up so fast, my love. You’re such a kind, giving, and resilient little fellow, and if we manage to raise you well enough to remain as good and compassionate when you’re older, then I will consider that a job well done, and I can die happy and at peace that I have done enough good in my lifetime.

I am thankful to have known a love like this. No, you are not my entire world, and no one single person should be yours either, but you and your father are the biggest, most important part of mine. I am thankful for a love so great and bigger than myself and anything I have ever known, that it redefines my very existence. I see everything differently now. I always want to be a better person because of you, and I am thankful every day. Merry Christmas, little one.


December 7, 2013. On the drive home from Jeff’s birthday dinner.

Corwin, from his car seat: “Daddy. Mad.”
Jeff: “What are you mad about?”
Corwin, solemnly: “Peoples.”

December 12, 2013. While we were fixing up for work, Corwin was stuffing his cooking pot full of crayons.

Me: “That’s a lot of crayons. Can you count them?”
Corwin: “One, two, three.”
Me: “That’s a lot more than three, silly. How many are there?”
Corwin, stretching his arms wide: “LOTS!”

December 13, 2013. Naming body parts while in the car.

Touching his toes, me: “What are these?”
Corwin: “Toes.”
Touching his calves, me: “What are these?”
Corwin: “Pata.”

Touching his forehead, me: “What’s this?”
Corwin: “Forehead.”
Touching his eyebrows, me: “What are these?”
Corwin: “Eyebrows.”
Touching his eyelids, me: “What are these?”
Corwin: “Muta.”