Letter to Lucia: 22 Months
Dear Little One,
So close to two! And what a little bundle of toddlerness you’ve been lately. You keep us on our toes, forcing us to often run after you as you do your surprisingly fast trot-walk down the sidewalk. You want to walk everywhere these days—such a change from even just a couple of months ago—and last week you walked almost the whole way to Prospect Park. I’m not brave or confident enough yet to leave the house without the stroller, however, as you often tire of walking and demand to be carried, which I simply can’t do right now. And, of course, my patience sometimes flags when walking even a block seems like it might take an hour with all your pauses and investigations; sometimes I just need to harness you in and push you along at a more reasonable pace. But I can see that one of these days you and I will just walk out of the house by ourselves, stroller-free. (We can sometimes do this with Daddy in the evenings, since Daddy is willing and able to carry you as needed.)
Your vocabulary is growing by the day, and you’ve started some two-word sentences—even three words, sometimes, like “Bar all gone!” when you’ve finished one of your currently beloved breakfast bars. You often say “More cheese!” and you’ve said “Drop bibi” when you’ve dropped your blankie someplace inaccessible. Last week, you kept saying “Kick! Kick! Kick!” but you clearly weren’t talking about kicking your feet or kicking a ball; I asked you to explain, and you said “Kick, draw!”—effectively communicating that you wanted to use Papa’s click-pen to draw pictures. However, you’re saying a lot of things now that we don’t understand, much as we try, and I wonder if you’re going to get frustrated as your use of new language outpaces your ability to use it comprehensibly.
I think you may be going through a growth spurt. Just a couple of weeks ago, your toes were dangerously close to the tops of your cute gold sandals; but I was loathe to purchase a new pair since summer is winding down. When I found a new pair on sale, however, I bought them, wondering if I’d jumped the gun. But just days later, it seemed, your toes had reached well beyond the edges of your old sandals—new ones were clearly required. Your pants are almost all too small—you have a long torso and long legs—and it’s clear that though we’ll probably be able to finish off the summer with your 18M wardrobe, it’s going to be very, very close. 2T, here we come!
I’ve been reading you your first book about being a big sister—I’m a Big Sister by Joanna Cole—and you love it. We read it over and over again, every day, and you are thrilled to shout “Baby!” when the book opens with, “Someone new is at our house. Do you know who it is?” When we turn to the page where the new baby is crying, you name all the things that will make the baby feel better: paw-paw, bibi, Mama, Dada, and milk. I’m not sure how much, if any, you can transfer from all this to your imminent future as a big sister, but if your willingness to share paw-paw and bibi with pictures of crying babies in books is any indication, you will be a soothing, kind little one when the new little one comes around.
Your current favorite toys are Mardi Gras beads (sometimes these are the only things you play with all day), your markers and paper, your stuffed animals, and your books. You also like your beach ball, “laptop” with buttons that play songs and say words (a stoop sale purchase), Matchbox cars, and Little People. You also still love your tiny cat figurine, which seems to go missing for the better part of each week.
So close to two! And what a little bundle of toddlerness you’ve been lately. You keep us on our toes, forcing us to often run after you as you do your surprisingly fast trot-walk down the sidewalk. You want to walk everywhere these days—such a change from even just a couple of months ago—and last week you walked almost the whole way to Prospect Park. I’m not brave or confident enough yet to leave the house without the stroller, however, as you often tire of walking and demand to be carried, which I simply can’t do right now. And, of course, my patience sometimes flags when walking even a block seems like it might take an hour with all your pauses and investigations; sometimes I just need to harness you in and push you along at a more reasonable pace. But I can see that one of these days you and I will just walk out of the house by ourselves, stroller-free. (We can sometimes do this with Daddy in the evenings, since Daddy is willing and able to carry you as needed.)
Your vocabulary is growing by the day, and you’ve started some two-word sentences—even three words, sometimes, like “Bar all gone!” when you’ve finished one of your currently beloved breakfast bars. You often say “More cheese!” and you’ve said “Drop bibi” when you’ve dropped your blankie someplace inaccessible. Last week, you kept saying “Kick! Kick! Kick!” but you clearly weren’t talking about kicking your feet or kicking a ball; I asked you to explain, and you said “Kick, draw!”—effectively communicating that you wanted to use Papa’s click-pen to draw pictures. However, you’re saying a lot of things now that we don’t understand, much as we try, and I wonder if you’re going to get frustrated as your use of new language outpaces your ability to use it comprehensibly.
I think you may be going through a growth spurt. Just a couple of weeks ago, your toes were dangerously close to the tops of your cute gold sandals; but I was loathe to purchase a new pair since summer is winding down. When I found a new pair on sale, however, I bought them, wondering if I’d jumped the gun. But just days later, it seemed, your toes had reached well beyond the edges of your old sandals—new ones were clearly required. Your pants are almost all too small—you have a long torso and long legs—and it’s clear that though we’ll probably be able to finish off the summer with your 18M wardrobe, it’s going to be very, very close. 2T, here we come!
I’ve been reading you your first book about being a big sister—I’m a Big Sister by Joanna Cole—and you love it. We read it over and over again, every day, and you are thrilled to shout “Baby!” when the book opens with, “Someone new is at our house. Do you know who it is?” When we turn to the page where the new baby is crying, you name all the things that will make the baby feel better: paw-paw, bibi, Mama, Dada, and milk. I’m not sure how much, if any, you can transfer from all this to your imminent future as a big sister, but if your willingness to share paw-paw and bibi with pictures of crying babies in books is any indication, you will be a soothing, kind little one when the new little one comes around.
Your current favorite toys are Mardi Gras beads (sometimes these are the only things you play with all day), your markers and paper, your stuffed animals, and your books. You also like your beach ball, “laptop” with buttons that play songs and say words (a stoop sale purchase), Matchbox cars, and Little People. You also still love your tiny cat figurine, which seems to go missing for the better part of each week.
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