5.19.2006

Open Letter to My Toddler

Dear Theron,

I should start with congratulations. You survived your parents for an entire year - it's all uphill from here. When I say, "It's been one helluva (EARMUFFS!) year," I mean it. And I mean it in a way that only first time Mamas and Daddies will understand.

Stumbling through your infancy was by far the most confusing, scary and exhausting thing I've ever done, cliche' notwithstanding. But as the cliche' goes on to say, I wouldn't trade this last year for anything. Nada. It's true. A lifetime supply of designer hoofcovers doesn't even scratch the surface of my interest.

Because meeting you - you, my Bearsy, Bearsalita, Mamacita, Little Mama, Theron Harper ball of squeezable, lickable, sniffable goodness is pretty much more than I can h
andle. It's been that good.

We got off to a bit of a rough start what with the 20-odd hours of labor (Mommy), the strep throat (Daddy), the mastitis (Mommy) and the dry socket (Daddy - god I really hope you got my teeth) but we got our groove on somewhere along the line and you were a trooper throughout. Still are.

There are too many things about you, things you do that I love, to list. But since you'll have forgotten a lot about the you of now by the time you can read this, I'll at least give you some highlights.

I love that you when you're ready to sleep you, with much purpose, pull the blanket over your head. Maybe we're watching your ceiling mobile or I'm giving you kisses with your stuffed Shamu but all of a sudden it just hits you, the tiredness I mean, and without warning you fling the cover over your eyes and it's good night Mama. Lights out.

I love that despite what all the books say you got your upper-right incisor before the upper middle one so that it looked like you had a fang for awhile and now, it's happening on the upper left side as well.

I love that your first word was 'Scout' as we predicted and that because you can't say 'kitty, kitty, kitty' you point out Ming by giving three short exhalation breaths a la Lamaze.

I love that after only three weeks at your Montessori school you entertain your teachers by greeting all adults with a Fonzie-esque (I'll be happy to explain that reference), 'Heeeyyyy'.

I love that you cackle maniacally at people just to make them laugh and when they do you get the giggles for real and then a full-on laugh riot ensues; that even though you're physically ready to walk you aren't quite ready to commit intellectually so instead you crab-walk all over the house, butt high in the air; that often at the dinner table you break into long babbling diatribes, gesturing wildly like a mini JFK (I hope you get that reference on your own).

There's a lot to love.

Today is your birthday. For the record, we started off at your 1-year doctor's visit (sorry...we're tied-up for the next 4 weeks and they wouldn't let me sche
dule it before your birthday...I tried...really). Afterward we met Daddy at the bank and turned all of your piggy bank money into fat cash for the Savings Account. Almost $400 - that's one porky porcine! Then we met Aunt Clutch, Uncle Will and Alice for lunch, wrapping up the day at home.

Your party is tomorrow. All the Colorado grandparents will be in attendanc
e as well as Auntie & Unckie. There will be cake. Chocolate cake. Not homemade, but then you already knew that, didn't you? I'm guessing our requests for college fund money in lieu of gifts (hey, you're one - a paper bag is fun for you) will be soundly ignored and you'll be buried in loot by day's end.

I worry about that kind of stuff - about consumerism and good nutrition and steering you toward creative play and away from gimmicky bells and whistles. I know I'll probably push too hard toward those ends. Let me apologize now for the first time though surely not for anywhere close to the last. For whateve
r it's worth, know that the motivating factor is not to make you into something but to keep your options open.

All I want for you is confidence and happiness and knowledge of self. I promise you, whatever decisions I've made in the time that's filled the space between me writing this and you reading it were made with you in mind. Your happiness in mind. Your health in mind. Your security. Because everything is about you now and for me, and for Daddy, it always will be.

Love, Your Mommy

5 Comments:

Anonymous Geoff said...

Samilja, you are an amazing mom (and wife and blogger too!!)! It's been fun for me to watch not only the changes in Theron over the last year, but also in you. Those things you wish for her, confidence, happiness, and knowledge of self are all things that have blossumed in you--even though I know you'll be denying that even as you're reading this :). I love you.

May 20, 2006 6:40 AM  
Anonymous Imperfect Mommy said...

Oh schmoopy moments... don't mean to intrude.

But that was beautiful. And a big Happy First Birthday to Theron!

May 20, 2006 7:35 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Well, always late to the party, I just tuned into the blog and read your Theron letter. Needless to say, I am having a hard time typing due to mist in my eyes. I love you. Mommy

June 05, 2006 8:08 PM  
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