ramblinjaq

little boy~

it’s a cliche to say that time flies when you’re having fun, but it’s true. and what we’ve learned since you came into our lives is that it also flies when you’re sleep deprived. or when you really want it to slow down so you can savor every second. it is absolutely completely bizzarro to me that you are TWO! YEARS! OLD! how can this be? two years have flown by at a speed i could never have imagined. you’ve gone from a tadpole who was easily satisfied by a snuggle and a boob. maybe some raspberries on your belly every so often. now, you’re this person who constantly wants things and enjoys things and learns things and destroys things. i hope your daddy and i haven’t damaged you too much. i had this idea, when you were brand new, that we’d be rookies for awhile, but then we’d ease into parenthood, but lately i’ve been realizing that we’re always going to to be rookies for you because you keep a-changin’. it’s not fair, but there’s no way around it: you will not make it to adulthood unscathed. i just hope we do a few things right as you grow up. just for filler to tell your therapist.

so much has happened this summer:

you had eye surgery to combat the crossy. they are now, for the most part, straight and beautiful. the post-surgery aftermath put you in a wretched state. you were overwhelmed and exhausted and the terrible twos may have kick started that very weekend. there was whining, out-of-control crying and full body on-the-floor-limbs-flailing fits. you were unrecognizable and we felt helpless and terrible. you un-weaned for a day. then you got an infection in one of your eyes, which, lucky you, apparently only happens to 4% of patients. you took it pretty well and wore the pirate patch with pride. and super cuteness.

you started signing “more” and “please” and saying “yeah,” “thank you,” “nana,” “liell” and, just once as far as i can tell, “mine.” you are also starting to really sound out the words that you hear us say. you enjoy taking your “baah” every night before bed and you are careful not to touch the “hah” stove.

your hair seems to have decided to be curly, which i love. i’ve been cutting it shorter on the sides and in the back, but leaving it just a wee bit long on top. oh yeah, it’s a pompadour.

you’ve fully committed to your love of swinging and swimming and don’t care who knows it - your squeals of glee are ear splittingly loud, silly and infectious. you love riding bikes with daddy and climbing anything climbable. you adore reading and will sit for hours so long as someone is willing to read with you.

in possible daddy-assisted rough housing, you spun and spun until you couldn’t stand up straight then you dove forward, chipping your front tooth on the tile step creating an oh-so-lovely snaggle that you’ll have until it falls out and is replaced by a permanent tooth (i’m just happy it’s still a toothy-white snaggle and not a black snaggle as i understand happens quite frequently when toddlers are combined with teeth).

aside from the after-surgery unweaning, you easily weaned this summer, which was actually not planned. you definitely took it better than i did and kind of never looked back.

you got orthodics to strengthen your ankles. you became utterly obsessed with trains and anything with wheels (your favorite book these days? richard scarry’s cars and trucks and things that go). you absolutely love going to day care at kathryn’s and enjoy playing with your buddy liell.

you’ve discovered the television (oopsie!) in the form of thomas the tank engine videos. after a mere 4 times in your whole life of watching said videos, you now know to climb up into the chair, point at the teevee and say, “choo. choo.” who am i to say no to such a well formed request? i’d feel a little guilty about this certain monster-creating except that sometimes mama needs to focus on her crossword puzzle. except that, so far, i end up distracted by watching you watch thomas. Eyes wide with amazement, you look over at me and smile, sometimes adding a ”choo” just to be sure that i know what’s happening on the magic box.

it astounds me how fast you are growing up. at times, i long for you to start talking in earnest so you can tell me what’s happening inside that beautiful round head of yours. and yet i’m nervous that everything that you learn means that you are growing up.  it’s hard to describe how much i want you to stay as you are and, at the same time, how thrilling it is to watch you develop. i love that the elements of your personality that we observed right away 2 whole years ago remain the same. you are sweet and gentle and funny and energetic and loving. plus you are so handsome!

sometimes when i look at you, i feel like one of those cartoons where wyle e. coyote eyes road runner and sees a perfectly roasted chicken.

allthelove,

~ mama

sweetest boy~

this month, you took your 1st major road trip all the way to south dakota. you were amazing in the car. sure, there were some tears and you seem to have developed a new whine/screech-of-fury that threatens to peel the lining from my eardrums, but all in all, you put up with being stuck in a car all the way there and all the way back with humor and good natured-ness. after arrival, there were a couple hours that you expressed your discontent with…oh… everything, but then you acclimated to your new surroundings with curiosity and gusto, including wanting to go outside to play in the 6-inches of snow. maybe when you’re older and climate change has completely ruined the earth, snow in april will be a normal thing, but mama was none to pleased with having to bundle you up to leave the house.

sadly, we had to make the trip because your great uncle randy passed away after his long battle with cancer. you got to meet him last summer right before you turned one when we came up for the nigg family reunion at lake travers. we drove to sisseton for a quick visit with randy and your great grandma. i never thought that randy had much time or patience for the little ones in the family, but he tickled you behind the ear and flirted with you all through dinner. you ate butternut squash for the 1st time and he couldn’t believe i wouldn’t put any butter on it for you. that’s an ongoing issue that i’m sure you’ll bring up in your future therapy: the things my mama kept from me when i was little, like candy and chocolate and scissors.

as is our way, the days in sodak were filled with sad funeral stuff and lots of laughter. you charmed everyone with the squint, flirty smiles, easy laughter and, of course, your eye lashes. uncle roger said that he thought he might have heard you cry once, but he never saw you without a smile. he snuck you lemon bars when i wasn’t looking. i had to surrender to the will of the universe because lemon bars weren’t your only 1st on this trip. there were the french fries (your cousin auston will be so happy!), which you took to like a champ; chocolate cake; lemonade; catholic church; casino, to balance out the church; truck stop breakfast, where you tried to pick pocket from a purse left hanging on a chair (nice!); fish fry and probably more that i’m just not aware of. i bought a baby gate at alco to stop you from heading up the stairs after you fell hard down a couple steps and got a goose egg on your eyebrow, which turned into a pretty good black eye. i liked walking with you up the stairs, though, realizing that i used to climb them when i was your age. and your g.j. said that she learned to walk on them too, since the house belonged to her grandparents before it was moved into town from the hills.

your great grandma george has 14 children, 25 grandchildren, nearly 50 great grandchildren and 3 great greats. and you know what? every single one of us is her favorite. or at least we think we are because her gift, her super power is making the person she’s with feel like they’re the most special creature in the world. we call that her “love the one your with” talent. and it seems that she has passed that to you. you are a “love the one you’re with” kind of boy. you always make people feel special and loved with your big ol’ smile and the way you flirt with them. sometimes, you are exactly what is needed to fix a bad day or mood. each one of my aunts (your great aunts, g.j.’s sisters) exclaimed to me how much you liked them because you ran up to them, arms wide to be picked up, huge smile on your face, wanting to snuggle. you made each of them feel like they were the only person in the room. well, at least until your cousins brenna and aubrey showed up and then they actually were the only ones in the room as far as you were concerned.

here you are with your great grandmas. it’s wonderful that you can get to know them. not a lot of kids are so lucky.

you’ve kind of been sickly on and off all month. there was some puking and lots of snot and a rumbly cough. you even had the sexy scratchy voice for awhile. maybe because we’re nursing so much less – down to just before bedtime and maybe once during the night – neither of us is protected by the magical nursing pixie dust anymore. as part of your not feeling 100%, you had a day this month in which you cried. a lot. in fact, you mourned each time a kid left daycare. you also cried when your daddy and i weren’t holding you. or when we tried to hold you. there was much crying. i nearly called the doctor because it just wasn’t like you. can you imagine the conversation with the nurse? “well, i’m worried because he’s crying…and there’s some whining…he’s 19-months old…nope, there doesn’t seem to be anything else wrong…but, you know, the crying…and the whining…and the crying…what should we do?…what do you mean that’s normal for a toddler?” i even googled toddler + personality change. i was freaking out, but, apparently, you were just having an emotional day and then you sprung back to your joyful self. i’d like to find you some crabby socks for days like that, not that there will ever be another one. ever.

in developmental milestone news, you are now standing up on your own instead of pulling yourself up. it’s so cute. you sit, then you bend forward into a kind of downward facing dog position, then you bend up at the waist and…you’re standing. it’s all followed by the clapping. you clap for yourself because that’s what we do every time and you realize how simply impressive you are. you’re also walking backwards and sideways, which is extremely funny because you do it in kind of a quiet sneaky way so different from how you barrel forward like you’ve been propelled out of a cannon and nothing can stop you but whatever object stands in your way. hopefully a soft one, but not always. you tip toe to the left, then you tip toe to the right. it’s not unlike modern dance as it is often followed with a bend at the side and a tilt of the head. i suppose i’ll have to try to get a video of it. maybe it’s one of those see-to-believe kind of things.

one day, your daddy took you to nifs [aka emmit's fan club headquarters]. your g.j. was downtown for a meeting and came to the museum to pick me up to walk on the canal. we decided to walk over to visit you. we entered the daycare room to find 3 nifs workers hanging out with just you, no other kids. i said, “hey buddy” and you came running towards me with a huge grin on your face and your arms open wide, pink spatula in hand. i leaned over to scoop you into a hug and you brushed past me to get to g.j.. i think my hair even moved in the breeze you created. now, i’m on record with being okay with your adoration of my mommie, but this was a pretty brutal snubbing. with witnesses, no less. another nifs worker came in to see what all the fuss was about and someone said, “this is emmit’s mommie.” and i couldn’t have been prouder to have any other identity in the world.

it seems that so many of my letters to you go on and on about how happy and friendly you are. i wish your daddy and i could take credit for it, but it all comes out of you like sparkly sparkles. a couple months ago, becky, who was there when you were born, jumped into our car to play peek-a-boo. everytime she revealed herself to you, she said, “who’s the friendliest guy?!” and that, my love, would be you.

all the love,

~ mama