Busy Books: Coming Up for Air

I recognize my blogging has decreased since teaching lo, those many years ago (and I'll just relieve the mystery and say I think I've decided I can only commit to two letters a year to B from now on: a half birthday and a birthday post), but I thought I'd give a sneak peek to my current obsession.

The seeds were planted in December when a friend linked to a laminating machine on major sale. This sort of information is dangerous in the hands of a former teacher that gets excited in office supply stores. Before I knew it, the $17 laminating machine was at my doorstep, and for $12 more I had 100 laminating pouches (the prices have returned to what seems to be their normal - about $30 for the machine, $15 for pouches - but I still highly recommend both).

Now, there wasn't time before Christmas to pull it out of the box, so it sat in my sewing area, just waiting for inspiration. Eventually, though, all Christmas crafting was finished, snow storms were dodged, and we returned safely after a couple weeks in Iowa.

Meanwhile, one day last week I cut up an egg carton so Brennan and I could make some caterpillars. A photo was posted to Facebook, and a friend recommended making butterflies from coffee filters. A day later, we did so (yet another reason it's fortunate I drink coffee!).

Due to that conversation thread, a friend sent me a link to a butterfly symmetry "busy bag" - I haven't yet made that one (no felt on hand), but it led me down a rabbit hole. I followed all manner of links for ideas for busy bags - contained activities that can be toddler-led with little to no direction after the first introduction.

Many of the items I had on hand, so I began printing, cutting, and laminating and am just now coming up for air. As an aside, I'm a huge fan of our color laser printer and my paper cutter (the latter purchased for use in my Etsy shop and I have not regretted the investment and the time saved since its acquisition).

First, I created a lego busy bag - there are cards showing a number of stacked Duplo bricks, and the child is supposed to recreate the pattern. Brennan took to it right away.

Then I prepared one that is supposed to develop writing skills; the child traces a variety of lines. Brennan also likes this one, but she isn't forcing herself to stick to the lines at this time, instead seeing it as a novelty to use dry-erase markers on paper. I have plans to bind these together, but now they are loose.

 This next activity required quite a bit of cutting. It is an I Spy activity. Print out two copies of the I Spy page. One copy is trimmed down and laminated. The second is cut up to create the card pieces. One person recommended just cutting out a variety of pieces, which is what any sane person would do, but I'm a glutton for punishment and decided I couldn't offer this activity unless every image could be part of the search. Therefore, I cut up all 100 tiny images, glued them into 1.5 x 2 inch pieces of paper, wrote the name of the image below, and then laminated the bunch. Now I have four bags of 25 cards. I tell myself this is worth it, as it means Brennan gets more enjoyment out if it and won't get bored as quickly. She does enjoy this activity. She'll take her dry erase marker, find the image, color it in, and then erase it before finding the next. And, in theory, I could print out a couple more full pages and laminate them for friends who might want to do this activity with her when visiting. Each child gets their own board with a baggy of different images.

This next activity didn't require any laminating (I may have needed a break after the above!), but I picked up some pipe cleaners and dug through my button stash to group them by color. Brennan hasn't been introduced to this one yet, but I will place all the buttons in a small container and let her sort by color, working on her fine motor skills as she threads them onto the pipe cleaners.

I printed out a set of images; there are 24 loose cards that fall into eight different categories, and the child is supposed to sort them accordingly.

Then for a name activity, I picked up some leaf shapes at Dollar Tree and glued letters onto them, spelling out Brennan's name on two different sets. One set was laminated onto cardstock, and the other is loose so Brennan can learn how to spell her name. In time, the next step would be to take away the set on cardstock paper and have Brennan spell her name without the template's help.

Next off, I set off to gather images to use in a dry-erase activity book. I used many of the links (and the template) found in this post. She put cardstock back-to-back when she laminated. I chose to double-side the sheets instead.

We've started doing a weekly family movie night, and Brennan has loved talking about the highlights of them; she doesn't have tons of words, but she has enough to act out her favorite scene in Dumbo (she whimpers to represent him missing his mom, and then she starts singing, demonstrating his mom rocking him).

She essentially loves anything we'll actually let her watch, so her favorites also include Sesame Street, the Muppets movies, Finding Nemo, Ice Age, and the Incredibles. So while searching for images, I found a number from these movies and printed them out (this page is amazing for coloring pages).

I printed, assembled, and bound the book last night (the binding machine is one I bought in the last year to use in my Etsy shop, and I had some extra binding wire from what is leftover from the upcycled notebooks). I presented it to Brennan this morning, and she has loved coloring in it with her dry-erase crayons (available for around $4). Another crossover from my Etsy activities? I carry flannel cloths in my shop, and some sample ones I made and kept back are perfect as erasing cloths with the dry erase markers and crayons.

I have plans to make a couple other activity books, more geared to actual learning (alphabet, letters, writing, matching, etc.), but some of those images weren't as good as the coloring pages, so it is on hold for the moment as I find better quality pictures and finish assembling other sets. Some of the activities I still want to do can be found linked on my Pinterest page here.

I'm thinking the dry-erase activity book will be a great addition to our diaper bag when we're out to eat, at small group, etc. She likes me to help erase the crayons (they don't wipe as easily as the markers), but then she's ready to go again. And there are enough pages to keep her excited for quite a while.

I look back at all I've done in a week, and I'm amazed - hopefully I've gotten it out of my system so I can resume normal activities!

And I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I still have other busy bag activities that are almost ready to go, just waiting for some laminating or final assembly. You'll see them here eventually, I'm sure!

A Letter to My Daughter: Two Years Old

20 months through 24 months (L to R, beginning on the top)

Dear Brennan,

Apparently when I wasn't looking, you thought it would be a good idea to turn two. Two!

It's been a few months since I last wrote, and a lot has happened in that time. One of the first notable events was your first time away from your parents. I had an opportunity to go to the Czech Republic in May with two of my sisters to visit our youngest sister. Before we bought my ticket, we had to get a couple questions answered first: 1) Did I still have a job if we remained in Indiana a year? and 2) Since Daddy would have finals and writing to do, could we find someone to care for you in my absence? I talked with my boss, who assured me they would gladly keep me on (hooray - now we could buy a ticket, even with uncertainties about fall funding!) and we spoke with Daddy's parents, who were more than happy to watch you.

Snuggling with Grandma

I prepared a photo album for you to take to your grandparents, filled with pictures of you with Mommy and Daddy (and a bonus one of you with Ella!) in case you got lonely and wanted to look at them. I gave this to you on the way to the airport, and at least then, you were very happy with it. I admit I got a little emotional with the thought of leaving you. I knew you would be in good hands, but I had never spent a night away from you, and suddenly we were going to be apart for a week and a half.

I suspect you missed your parents, but you were a sweetheart with Grandma and Grandpa. Rumor has it you only cried once, and that was at dinner one night when you were overtired; you were angry at what you were (or were not) being fed, and so they took you to your room, changed your diaper, and you were asleep before they could even close the door.

Trying on Grandpa's boots

It was sometimes hard to coordinate times to Skype with you; Aunt Charity kept us out from morning until late night, which left for a very short window when we could try to chat (11 PM CZ time was 4 PM Iowa time, when you might be out). But we still managed three video chats. You didn't like when you had to be confined to Grandma's lap, as you preferred to play in the vicinity and show me toys or snacks, but you were generous with your waves and kisses, and it just made me miss you all the more, even as I saw how happy you were. I was so glad you had that time with them; even now, you have a special relationship with them and light up when you see them.

I arrived back in the States on Mother's Day, and seeing your face light up was the best gift I could have hoped for.

While I was overseas, Daddy got a job offer that he accepted (and, um, also rented our house - guess I should be careful when leaving him home for lengths of time). That meant when I returned, the clock was already running. We needed to pack our home, find a place to live in Wisconsin, and say goodbye to many dear friends we had made.

Petting the kitties as they try to sleep

The one you miss the most is your best friend Ella. Fortunately, Ella is more than happy to have video chats with you, and a couple times a month or so, either I or Jess will text to schedule a time. Last time it was my turn to ask for a chat, as you were begging for three days in a row. She is pretty chatty and in her excited voice shouts, "Brennan!!" and gets all wound up that you're on. It is touching to see how early such strong affection develops. I admit I wouldn't have guessed before two you would have forged such a friendship, but you do love Ella.

When we went back home for Hope's wedding, Aunt Heather had some foam animal toys she let you play with. I was naming them off for you, and you gravitated to two of them, informing me that the penguin was "Ella" and the teddy bear was "Nnnn" (the best you can do with your name). Neighbors were holding a garage sale and had a shelf of stuffed animals, so I said you could pick one out. You were having trouble narrowing it down, and then suddenly you found two you had to have: a penguin and a teddy bear. I didn't have the heart to separate such good friends yet again, so I did let you get both. You were so sweet playing with them: you would make them hug and hold hands (or, rather, fins and paws, but I got the picture).

Ella on the left, Brennan on the right

It's funny to try to figure out what's going through your head. At the wedding reception, there was a dollar dance, so your daddy paid to dance with my sister. I was holding you at the time when you suddenly pushed against me so I put you down. As soon as I did, you took off for dad with tears welling in your eyes and the cutest pout. You forcibly separated him from my sister, as if you thought he no longer loved me and you wouldn't stand for it. The same thing happened when I danced with Casey - Daddy was able to keep you from noticing for a while, but when you saw, it was OVER.

You still are pretty mum when it comes to talking. It is clear the comprehension is certainly there, and you're adept at communicating what you want non-verbally. But one thing that you've started doing makes me feel like you've skipped a step.

Invisible Brennan is invisible

We have this set of alphabet magnetic tiles on our dishwasher. When you put a letter in the device, it sings out, "A says Ah, A says Ah. Every letter makes a sound! A says Ah," and so on. You have spent a lot of time playing with this over the months, especially if I'm working in the kitchen. The other day you brought me the B and started saying, "Bah, bah, bah." My jaw dropped. I went over to the letters with you and started quizzing you. You don't have them all down, but you have at least a third of the phonics sounds ingrained (and with the others, when I say the letter, you can make an educated guess). I feel like phonics sounds are what children learn when they're ready to start reading, but maybe you're just doing things out of order to keep it interesting.

Your second year of monthly photos with the giraffe

I have a theory that you're just being stubborn about not talking. I'll try to sound out words and get you to repeat them, and you just smile at me, maybe nod your head approvingly in an attitude of, "That's right, Mom! You know the right word! I was sure you knew what I was hinting at with my non-verbal communication!" I know you're "behind" in this area, but I'm not worried at the moment. I've had friends share about how their children were similar in behavior - refusing to speak much at all until they could fully communicate in complete sentences. We'll see what the next few months hold for you in the speech department, but I wouldn't be surprised if you went this route. As your comprehension and near mastery of phonics shows, you certainly have the ability to make the necessary sounds, you just appear to be choosing not to string them together into words (and you don't seem frustrated with your limited vocabulary). At the very least, you're filing many words away into your lexicon. You will examine a page after we've read it, having us name things over and over again, and as I ask you to find specific items on pages, you do so successfully. One surprise was tied to your shape sorter. We would often name the shape as you put it in, and one day, I said something about one of the shapes as an aside to myself (perhaps something to the effect of, "Where's the rhombus? Did we somehow lose it?"), and you picked it up and gave it to me. I listed them off one by one, and you knew every one, even without us having intentionally taught them. So hexagon, star, arc, pentagon, etc. are in your lexicon now.

Celebrating Mommy and Daddy's anniversary at your first movie

One thing you do that can be amusing (and, at times, taxing) is your insistence on things being a certain way. You liberally use the sign "All done" to communicate with us. At story time, as I tried to help you do the actions to a new song, you adamantly signed, "ALL DONE!" to signify that you would have no part in such trivial behavior. If I sing along to a familiar tune, I may see the Brennan monster emerge. One of your ways of coping, if we've messed everything up, is to do it ALL OVER. Perhaps I started singing to the Dora theme - you may insist on re-starting the episode. Perhaps I opened up a learning game for you on my iPad; you will close it out, just to open it right back up again. It can be a problem if I thought you wanted help and lend assistance (i.e., in a matching game), and you grow angry, wanting me to backtrack a step when that's not a solution. But all in all, this just encourages me to weigh the pros and cons as I decide when to offer praise or lend aid.

Crashing after a very early start to the day

For instance, you don't always want affirmation. If we're doing a traditional puzzle and I say, "Good job, B!" after you've inserted a tricky piece, you might take it all apart with a pointed glower my way. I sometimes let you play games on my iPod or iPad, and there's one puzzle game you love. At the conclusion, streamers come down and there's congratulatory music. You will set down the device to clap for yourself, but watch out if a parent tries to enter in! With the bedtime routine, you now like to turn on the noise machine and Violet, but if we mention these steps, or if we even look at you while you're doing them some days, you have to start it all over again. Same goes for getting in the carseat or booster seat, picking up toys, getting up or down from something, and any other number of activities in a day.

Coloring with Aunt Charity

Typically I think these are things that could be glimmers of the "terrible twos", but they mostly make me laugh and I tread lightly as I decide whether or not it's worth facing your ire. You're learning independence, and I tend to focus on that aspect instead of the alternative readings. I think you are stubborn and want to prove you can do these actions without our assistance, and our commenting on the action is interfering in or downplaying this accomplishment, so you grow frustrated and want to prove yourself all over again.

"Uh, Mom, what's wrong with my crib?!"

You transitioned better than we hoped to a new home. One big change for you was switching you from the crib to the toddler bed. The first night, you went to sleep like nothing was different...until you fell out of bed after being asleep an hour. We propped up the side of the mattress slightly and added a pillow to your bed to encourage you where you should lay your head, and there haven't been any incidents since (well, there was that one time you dropped a toy and went to retrieve it, finding yourself hanging over the edge with your head inches away from the ground, but Mommy rushed upstairs to set things right again and your terror receded).  And even though you're in a toddler bed, you stay settled, happily reading or playing, until Mommy or Daddy comes to get you.

Bedtime is pretty awesome at the moment. I took a video one night, just to have proof at how well it can go. This video takes place immediately after we brushed teeth/read Bible stories/said a little prayer.

Isn't that impressive?! I'm so humbled at how easy we often have it. Sometimes you'll mimic the routine by tucking in a cow (or, once, a keyboard) into your stuffed chair and then bestowing kisses on them all tucked in before we repeat the process with you in your bed. When you teethe, though, sleep is one of the first things to be disrupted, and we have seen some activity in that sphere in the last month or so (three of your canines have emerged since Labor Day, leaving the remaining count at one canine and four two-year molars). As there's no longer a recliner in your room, we have taken to letting you move your pillow (and your entire entourage) to the floor. We pony up our own pillow and blanket, and then you hold hands with Mommy (or Daddy, if it's early evening or a weekend) until you happily drift off. If all goes well, we can extract ourselves then. If you're especially restless, Mommy may be in for a long night and a stiff back.

When you turned one, we debated whether or not to have a party for you (outside of the three of us), and we didn't end up doing anything. Of course, now that you have friends and could participate more fully, we up and move a couple months beforehand. Lucky for us, your paternal grandparents were gracious enough to agree to throw you a party at their place so you could at least be around more family for a celebration.

They threw you a great party, including a Dora cake. Daddy assisted with the candles at that event, but on your actual birthday, I gave you a slice from my birthday cake. You blew those candles out SO quickly without any trouble!

 

On your actual birthday, we went to Bay Beach, a local attraction with free admission and tons of inexpensive rides (tickets are a quarter apiece, and the rides you were on ranged from one to two tickets). For under $15, we had lunch for three and went on about a dozen rides. You loved every moment of it. During many of the toddler rides, Eric and I joked that you were perfecting your everything-is-so-lame teenage look as you just stared off, bored.  But after every single ride, you'd turn to us and ask, "More?" We indulged repeat rides more than once.

Wondering why your parents are putting you through this

I mentioned above about the iPad, but I'll elaborate more on it here. In a proactive move, we bought one to replace the day-to-day uses of my failing laptop. I received great app recommendations from friends, and you have enjoyed spending time learning, drawing, and just playing. Starfall ABCs is a favorite (and it can be credited with teaching you the concept of the matching game in short order), as well as Tozzle (the puzzle game mentioned above). I try to limit your usage - after all, it was purchased with me in mind and I'd rather it remain a novelty for you - but I'm glad you're deriving some enjoyment from it. You have become all too savvy with it, though, even with limited usage. One of your favorite pasttimes on the iPod is cycling through all the pictures, since most star you, and you know there are a number that also have Ella in them.

Anything can be a drum

In traditional toys, you still enjoy books. At Easter, we gave you the Toddler's Bible. You instantly fell in love with the vivid illustrations and simple stories. We were easily reading through the 101 stories in a two-week cycle, but it didn't take long before the bookmark was useless due to you removing it. All other books meant nothing to you, and you'd spend long stretches in your crib reading to yourself before and after sleeping. You would also pore over it during the day, reading to your stuffed animals. We've had to do some surgery on the binding, and the bottoms of some of the pages were accidentally torn during a car trip. But it is still your favorite book.

You love to color, and we spend a lot of time drawing. We do our best to cater to your requests for drawings, and I hate to brag, but I can draw a mean stick figure. Your typical requests are Ma, Da, Nnnn, Ella, and Dora. And less decipherable are Sarah and Nina (and, perhaps, Boots, or Diego, or Logan - we're not confident on that word you're trying to say). I once drew you and Ella holding hands, and now your main requirement is that everyone holds hands.

Mommy and Daddy

Puzzles and games are huge now. We have a matching game, and while I haven't attempted to teach you the game with the pieces face down (you can experience a limited version on the iPad), you understand the concept of finding the match and will dig through the box until everyone is paired off. You also love some puzzles handed down from your cousins. Well, you did until the Dora puzzles entered your life at your birthday party. Since then, nearly all other puzzles have become invisible.

You are still a huge fan of play food. We inherited a toy kitchen to help corral your play food, and you happily concoct creative pairings, serving them to your parents and kitties (although I'm suspicious of trying the foods you "cook" in the dishwasher...).  At times, the items you take to bed with you all fall in the food category: drumstick, milk, eggs. You know, in case you need that midnight snack.

You still do dance, especially to the Wiggles' rendition of the "Shake Your Sillies Out" song. You excel at nodding your naughties out and clapping your crazies out, and you're passable at jumping your jiggles out, but I laugh at you shaking your sillies out - it mimics your "All Done!" sign too much that I had to do double-takes early on, wondering if you were enjoying yourself or telling me to turn it off.

You barely let Papa and Grandma dance without you

We are hitting the circuit of library story-times. There's an underwhelming one near our place twice a week, but there's an exceptional one a little farther away once a week. And I've heard rumor of another great one at another branch, but that will have to wait until my weekly Bible study ends, as they conflict.

There are many great parks around us, and we've enjoyed checking them out as weather allows. You are a master at slides, provided no other children are rushing you. If there's competition, you defer to others, ever your cautious self.

We are also members of the children's museum, and we've already gone four times, even with having only had the pass for about a month. There's some great water play opportunities, and you're deigning to get dirty with sand a little more frequently. You feel the firetruck is your own personal conveyance, and the diner is a favorite spot as well. I love the art center, where you can paint to your heart's content, all while the staff set up the easels and paints, provide smocks, and even clean up after we're done: all the fun with none of the work! Needless to say, the membership decision was a good one. I suspect we'll spend many a snowy or rainy day there.

You're also learning to keep the coffee coming - great lifelong lesson, there!

Over the summer, your hair became curly. One could accurately predict the humidity in the air based on how tight your curls were. This has been an interesting development; I hardly know how to manage curly hair, and I feel yours typifies what people mean when they say someone has a "mess of curls."

It's also feast or famine when it comes to whether or not you'll allow me to do anything with it. The best luck we've had is with headbands (although they do little to tame, it's a step in the right direction). And you'll sometimes ask me to put clips in your hair - ALL of them. This rarely lasts for any length of time, unless you've forgotten they're all in there. Then we are endlessly amused when we look at you. And, yes, we did take you out in public looking like that.

We bought a little potty, and you were enamored with it (to the point I had to shut the bathroom door so you couldn't compare it with the adult potty every time you saw them). At first, when you sat on it, you needed the entertainment of books or Dora before you'd eventually go, but in the last month or so, you've started telling us when you need to go. One day you successfully told us five different times. I began to think we'd have you potty-trained early after your second birthday. However, you've refused to sit on the potty for the last week now. Fortunately, we weren't planning on starting the training process quite so soon, so we weren't disappointed. We won't force you and we're happy to wait until you're ready to try again. Although I picked up some big-girl panties for you today, and when you saw them, you were so excited and hugged them to yourself, so maybe that's enough bribery to get you to start going again (you cut your bath short to go on the potty, so that's progress!).

"Mom, get out of the way - Dora's on!"

At your grandparents, you also started drinking out of a cup without a lid. Grandma gifted you a set of cups so you could practice at home. We don't use them every day, and I still ration liquid in them, but you love having big-girl cups at meals.

You're wearing 2T and 3T tops (and I even put you in a long-sleeved 4T top the other day, and I couldn't believe that it fit!). Your current shoes are size EIGHT. Somehow, when I wasn't looking, you've gotten to be a big girl.

You are helpful and learning every day, although I take comfort that I still see the little girl in you (see: hoarding tendencies when it comes to the condition of your bed). 

On some future Hoarders episode, we'll remember how it began...

When you're extra nervous, there's a cycle of coping strategies you employ. The earliest was the neck grab, which made way for a habit of chewing your nails. Seriously. (Where did you learn this?!). That transitioned to fingering your belly button. And when we went to Hope's wedding this summer, you regressed back to the neck grab. Fortunately all of these have faded away and you'll settle for trying to melt into Mommy or Daddy's side.

When you're teething or feeling sad or nervous or shy, you cling tight to Mommy and no one else will do. I love our cuddles and our laughs and your general personality as you go from being silly to serious to inquisitive to everywhere in between.

My little goofball while we tried to take a picture

As I see how much you depend on me and look up to me, it can be intimidating. Moms hold so much power and these days are making an impact on the rest of your life. I will do the best I can, and hopefully while praying for wisdom, listening to advice from others, and just approaching each day as it comes, I can help you channel your sweetness and care for others and guide you and raise you into becoming even more beautiful, both inside and out. And I sure hope you'll always feel safe to come to me when you need comfort. I'm always here for you, sweety.

Love,
Mommy

A Letter to My Daughter: 19 Months

18 months; 19 months

Dear Brennan,

You're now 19 months old.

First off, there were some stories I could have shared in my last letter that just didn't come to mind while I was writing.

For instance, you adore walks, no matter the weather. You can be like a little puppy, going to fetch your shoes (and mine!), then tugging at the closet until I open it and you point to your coat, and then you stand at the door waiting. In fact, if we have to get in the car instead of taking a walk, you might shed some tears.

You also have some bouts of jealousy and possessiveness. A friend asked me to watch her daughter one day since the daycare had an in-service. You started out charitable, surrounding your new friend with books and toys. In fact, when she was wary of the cats, you even grabbed your Cats & Kittens book for her! But as Lucy warmed up and started getting comfortable, it became a trying day for you. After all, she wasn't just content with the toys you vetted for her, and you would sometimes try to wrench un-approved toys out of her hands. We're trying to work on that sharing.

Nothing gets by you - you're always watching

Immediately after my last latter - within a day, you figured out how to climb downstairs and onto furniture. This has been a pleasant development. It used to be that in the morning when we walked into the kitchen to get your milk, we'd also put up the gate at the top of the stairs. Now, though, we only put up the gate if we want to keep you upstairs. Typically you like to near where we are, but we're not worried if you decide to head to the stairs.

You are becoming a little girl

You now weigh 27 pounds, 10 ounces (85th percentile) and you're 35.25 inches tall (99th percentile). Your head is also quite the noggin at 19.5 inches (98th percentile). You usually wear 2T (and 3T) clothes. However, when you're not in your cloth diaper, we suddenly notice how much bulk that removes - a friend is watching you some this month while I work extra hours, and we've been sending you with disposable diapers. Your pants were sagging down something fierce that first day!

While you know how to use utensils and typically eat very neatly (see: my last letter), you're in this phase where you'll sometimes try to smear your hands in certain foods (cottage cheese, pudding, applesauce). The first time you did this, I was shocked. You were starting to eat while I finished up dinner, and next thing I knew, I looked over and you were a mess! I admit that I'm okay with some of this exploration in limited contexts, especially provided the food stays on the tray. The moment you start throwing handfuls (like with chili...), we end it.

"What are you staring at - do I have something on my face?!"

The last couple months have also seen an ever-emerging attitude of independence.

Pushing your kitty around the porch

You love to help with common tasks. If the dishwasher door is opened, you long to pull out items to hand to us. I want to foster this attitude, but it makes me nervous when you grab out something breakable, so I'm about one step away for those items. As proof of your observation (and snooping), you pulled out the colander the other day and tried to put it away on your own - you knew exactly where it belonged. Of course, if we're trying to load the dishwasher with dirty items, you get frustrated that we won't let you unpack it.

You "disappeared" while folding laundry - I still wonder where you went...

You love to help move laundry from the washer to the dryer, and you'll pretend to vacuum, sometimes wanting to push it with me. After every bath, you hang up your washcloth and load up your toys into the boat and push the boat to the end of the tub; we never pushed this, you just started doing this after you watched us do it time and again, and now we encourage you. I typically like involving you in these tasks, even with the additional time it takes to complete them. It's only a matter of time before we give you age-appropriate tasks to start helping with, and I want you to see chores as just a way to contribute to the family, not as punishment or a burden to bear.

You have firm ideas for the way things should be done.

When you do your shape sorter, the star and circle are the first two you do. When we do the Kermit/Miss Piggy puzzle you recently got, you always start with Kermit’s head, then Miss Piggy’s. You love to wear necklaces, but when I brought a new one home to add to the mix a couple weeks ago, you wouldn’t wear it for a time because it wasn’t around when you started wearing the others (but they’re all Mardi Gras necklaces, and we were just adding a new color to the mix). I put water in a bowl and gave you a paintbrush so you could “paint” the cement. The next day, I tried to offer a couple other brushes in slightly different sizes, and you kept throwing them back at me, refusing to use any but the first brush.

You also have a strong desire to put things where they belong. If you see a cat toy, you must pick it up and give it to one of the cats (I love when you do this - they’ll be sleeping and completely uninterested, but you just keep trying, sure they must not have seen the toy since they're not falling over with gratitude). If you see my coffee mug or water bottle sitting nearby, you often pick it up and give it to me. You even grabbed my glasses case, which I keep by the bedside, and set it where my two sunglasses cases are by the door.

These almost seem a little extreme when listed one after another, but you are a creature of habit (and your parents have a bit of that characteristic as well, so it comes as no real surprise). New things take time to meet with your approval. For instance, now you vary the order when you do the puzzle and shape sorter, and you will now use the extra paintbrushes and wear that newest necklace. But I have to be aware of how things are done and what you are used to and how you learn (doing something the same way over and over and over again) and not push you too fast to embrace something new. For instance, on the days I work, I am the first awake. But on days I stay home, Daddy will get you up and change your diaper before I crawl out of bed. When you come into the bedroom where I am, you bring me my slippers. I might as well just comply. Later I can kick them off and if they're out of sight, they're out of mind. But if I haven't gotten out of bed, it's just best to let you fetch them for me.

Sleep is still a work in progress. You default to being an awesome sleeper, but when you're teething, you can't stay down through the night; sometimes all it takes is for us to hold you a few minutes and then move you back to the crib, but other times you just need to know we're there. When we're pretty tired of the recliner but are failing in successfully transitioning you, we'll try to bring you to bed, but no one sleeps well then, so we prefer when we can transition you to the crib. Daddy, however, hasn't had good luck lately with moving you unless you've had a recent dose of Tylenol. Fortunately there have been more good days than bad lately. You now have 12 teeth, which means we're still waiting for those four canines to come through and, eventually, those two-year molars. Maybe we're in another reprieve, though.

Resigned to a picture in your Easter dress

You still love books. Lately you're usually too tired when we put you in the crib for your nap or bedtime to do much reading beforehand, but typically you wake up from your nap and reach for your books. You'll spend quite a while just "reading" and snuggling with your stuffed animals until you want to get out. I asked my friend who is watching you this month how long you slept on Friday. She didn't actually know since you were quiet the whole time. She set you in the crib and you didn't make a peep so she didn't know when you fell asleep. She checked on you at the one-hour mark and didn't hear anything, so after another hour had passed with no sounds whatsoever, she checked on you again and heard...pages turning.

Your naps are around 75-90 minutes now; bedtime is at 7:30 PM, and you wake up after nearly 12 hours of sleep. In fact, if you wake up in the morning an hour or so before your regular time, I've learned to let you be if you're quiet. It's not unusual for you to sit up and flip through books for a few minutes, then lay back down and fall asleep again.

Just reading the Economist - no big deal.

One day you'd only napped for 30 minutes, and you were quite fussy the rest of the day. Two days later, I cringed when you again woke up at the 30-minute mark. I wasn't in a hurry to fetch you, knowing the sort of attitude you might be in, but when you started looking at books, I decided to delay getting you. You quietly flipped through them for 45 minutes, only then beginning to make noise. And you were such a happy child for the rest of the day. While it's no surprise you're introverted, I'm beginning to realize sometimes you also need some time by yourself, so I try to respect that. One day I needed to get dinner started, and you were playing at the foot of the stairs. The kitchen is at the top of the stairs, so I went upstairs to begin my work, with frequent peeks down the stairs to check on you. You were as happy as could be with your books and toys and didn't mind my absence.

Talking is still at a minimum. In addition to your previous words, you will sometimes say cow or duck, and kitty means just about animal; you'll appear to repeat us sometimes, but you are quick to go quiet when we ask you to say it again. But your comprehension is strong. You love to have us name objects and animals as you point at them, often repeatedly, as you add them to your vocabulary. You have a See 'n Say - one of those toys with the lever on the side that, as you pull it, will spin the arrow around and name the animal it started on and the noise it makes (i.e., "The rooster says cock-a-doodle-doo!"). I can name an animal or give an animal sound and ask you to point to the appropriate picture, and you don't hesitate to do so. Or we'll line up your stuffed animals and I'll ask you to find the elephant, or the pig, and on and on. You can also identify every animal in your bath toys, including the lobster, seahorse, octopus, and walrus.

You may not talk much, but you examine everything

You have some favorite animals. The lamb is still a big favorite, but it is equal to (or even surpassed by) Kermit the Frog. And other times you prefer your small kitty and Violet - the theme seems to be pairs of animals. You love to make sure they are offered drinks from your cup, or bites of your snacks. If you've cried in the middle of the night, you will grab a couple of those stuffed animals before you'll let us pick you up. It would make it a little easier if you could narrow it down to one, but at least this means you might not notice the absence of one if someone turns up missing before bedtime (right now, kitty is the one we can get away with forgetting, probably because she's the smallest). We had a close call today - Daddy picked you up, and in the transition, Kermit got left behind. We have your little friend to thank for finding it so quickly so I could get it on my way home. You're not up for sharing your animals at her house, so when she saw it unattended and you nowhere to be found, she made a beeline for it, repeating, "Kermit! Share? Share?"

Selection of your favorite animals

It's amusing to see your crib after a nap or in the morning - what with your blanket, your four stuffed animals, and several books that start out propped against the sides but end up everywhere (even underneath you), it can look like quite the disaster area.

You started struggling during diaper changes - it seemed you didn't like laying on your back on the changing table. When we're at church or a friend's house, it doesn't tend to be an issue, but it became frustrating trying to get you to hold still, especially for those messy diapers. My solution was to give you my iPod. I'm not a huge fan of you already accustomed to my iPod, but there are a couple apps on it that you excel at and it keeps me from having to change the changing table's diaper pad after every dirty diaper (ask me how I know...). One is Old McDonald, where you'll vary up the games: one favorite of yours names an animal and asks you to select it from three possible options, another one makes an animal sound and you're supposed to name it before hitting the barn doors and revealing who is hiding inside. These sure have let us witness new animal words - it was the first time I heard you say cow.

You have now had your second-ever fever. I had wondered if you'd felt a little warm on your forehead, but the rest of you seemed normal and you were eating and playing like usual, so I didn't check. You woke up at 2 AM and were burning up with a fever of 102.3 degrees. However, by 7:30 in the morning it was already down to 99 degrees and stayed down. That is now two fevers you've had, both of which have resolved in a matter of hours. It's going to be hard on me when you have your first sustained fever.

You've also had your first real injury - you had helped Daddy unload the dishwasher, and you had gotten distracted with your toys in the other room when you decided you wanted to cross the kitchen. Daddy was loading the dishwasher when you slipped and fell, catching your nose and cheek on the corner of the door. There wasn't very much blood and you didn't cry for long (I was trying to wipe away the little bit of blood as you struggled, so I turned on Sesame Street as a distraction - you stopped crying before I even set the remote down). But when it scabbed over, it looked pretty miserable and you drew a lot of attention (you can see the evidence of your injury in the toy collage).

It's pretty likely at this point that we're moving this summer, although the location may be up in the air. And as I'm mentally preparing, in between actual packing, I find myself turning reflective as we work to close this chapter of our lives. So many things have happened here in Indiana. We had left a close community in Minnesota after only two years, so there may have been some doubt about whether or not we could find friends that we were as close with. And so much has happened in the six years we've lived here. I was first pregnant here. I lost your sister here. And in the midst of that heartache, people came out of the woodwork to grieve alongside us. And now we have you.

In the midst of this uncertainty of the future and reflecting on the past, I'm also watching a friend go through a very hard time in her marriage, some of the issues stemming from what she'd gone through as a child and young adult.

While I was anxious during my pregnancy with you, and during the early days, I feel like I've reverted to my former personality and while I know I can't protect you from anything, or even guarantee anything, I look back at my own life and see where I've come from and what I've experienced. Children are resilient.

I was processing this with some friends, and I wrote the following:

This parenthood/adulthood is seriously wild, you know? You think your parents know everything, and then you become one and realize they were just as lost as you are, but they loved you like crazy. So you love your child like crazy and hope you learn from your mistakes and don’t mess them up too badly.

That's the place I'm resting in now. I want you to be spared from any hurt, but I know that's not realistic, so I'll try to shelter you from the major ones and hold you through the minor ones. I hope we have a close relationship, one that starts from respect and love and moves to include friendship as you become an adult. I have no idea how old you will be when you read these letters, or what our relationship will be like when you do. I hope you find joy and contentment. I hope you feel you have a purpose. I pray like crazy that you love Jesus. I hope you're content in your singleness. And when it's time, I hope you'll find a husband that loves you, serves you, leads you, protects you.

And know, even if you think I've been a failure as a parent, or at least made some big mistakes that you think should have been obvious enough to avoid, that I love you so much. And I'm just doing what seems best with what I know today, but I'm this imperfect person who will make her fair share of mistakes along the way. All throughout, though, never doubt my love for you.

Love,
Mommy