You at 22

Dear Tavy,

You celebrated your 22 month birthday yesterday by standing on your hands. You backed yourself over the closed door, kicked your feet up, and then looked at me as if to say, "I knew it was that easy." Now, you've been doing it over and over all morning, and it pretty much encapsulates you at 22 months: dare devil, original, learning new stuff, and fiercely independent.

Right now, you are organizing your puzzle box by stacking all like pieces together. There are little stonehenge puzzles around my office. I'm particularly touched by the farm animal totem on my desk. Earlier, while BAD mama was on facebook, you took several sheets of tissue paper and proceeded to wrap up various stuffed animals and babies. You unwrapped them over and over, happily declaring, "New Baby! New Baby! Happy Day!" I assume you are practicing for the two short months until your birthday. "Me Box! Happy! Happy!" Yes, there will be LOTS of boxes, but I'm not ready for you to be two!

On Friday morning, you managed to open the fridge on your own and dumped an entire carton of eggs on the floor. You were most displeased with this turn of events. "Oh no! Oh noooooooooo! Eggs! Eggs Floor! Mama! Wipe! Mama Wipe!" All twelve did a humpty dumpty on us and were cracked beyond repair. Apparently though, you had really wanted SCRAMBLED eggs, as you ran for a plate when I said, "Eggs cracked!"

You anticipate so much now. I turn the car into a place you have been before and you crow with delight, "See Babies!" You know Katie's house, and C's house, and the park. You know that farmer's market contains berries. You shake your head mournfully when I let the dog outside, "No Out Hide. No Out Hide. LA EATER!" You take the words out of my mouth and make me more aware of every syllable I utter.

We make the turn into my work, and you start chanting the name of the high schooler who watches you for an hour on Tuesday and Thursday. You LOOOOOOOOOOOVE her. LOVE. Especially when she's not around. You talk about her constantly, ask if she's coming when we head out, and get super excited when it's time to go see her. When she's THERE though, you play hard to get and want to "See Mama!" You do like to wear your monkey though and let her take you for walks.

I love seeing you wandering the halls where I work. It's worth the money just to see my worlds collide.I like that you will know that I work. "Mama Room! Mama room! Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" You announce your presence and hop up on a chair. "IE WORK!" You roar. "IE READ!" You leave poor S in your wake as you own the empty room. It won't be long before you'll be drawing on the white boards and playing school to your babies.

Sometimes we talk about "This time next year . . ." And then you totally fake us out by doing that NOW. Right now. We have been picking lots of fruit, and while you bellowed in your wagon for another "Pee Bah!" sandwich, I remarked that soon you would be picking cherries too. Daddy decided to give you a demo and let you pick a few, but you LOVED it so much, that he gave you a full-time job. He used the monkey to buckle you into the crook of a tree, then with one hand on you, he and you filled a bag. Later, you took all the stems off the cherries. We have the videos to prove it because we just couldn't believe that you were such a good little worker bee.

However, I really shouldn't be surprised. If I ask you to pick up books or dirty clothes, you happily do it, and nothing makes you happier than collecting trash. "TRASSSS?" You ask hopefully as you present each scrap of paper for the okay to toss it in. You can dismantle an entire room in nothing flat and you leave no surface unruffled, but you are more than just a hurricane. You are learning how things go together, how they work, and the endless possibilities of a world for your taking. Markers? Time to tattoo your whole body! Gum? Time to distribute it! Hair bows? Must find hair! Paper? Must find markers!

You are constantly on the move. Every open space is a chance to run for the sheer joy of running. Every person is potential friend to say "Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" to. But you are also more quiet this month. We can read longer and longer books as your attention span increases. You love "Wittle Bar!" and ask me to read Little Bear over and over and over and over. You love night time story time, and you have become the mistress of the nightly stall.

But I love those little moments of quietness when all your motion slows down and you are warm and soft and unbearably sweet. You are my sun, moon, and stars. You at 22 months is the greatest gift.

Comments

[baby hair bows]

I have just read 2 of your blogs and I can't help but read on. Your hurricane is so adorable. I hope my baby will be like her. Why don't you post more pictures here? =)

[Formerly Demented M]

Awww. We are almost 22 months here too. It goes so fast. Too fast. *sob*

M