Letter to Lucia: 25 Months
Dear Little One,
Together again! After our long separation, we’re finally back to Mama-and-baby, full tilt now that our post-new-baby visitors have gone home. Daddy went back to work this week (though he’ll be home with us off and on for several more months), so we’re settling back into our days together. Of course, these days look much different now that Greta has joined us, even though, for now, she does little but eat and sleep. The biggest difference is that so far we’ve spent our days inside. I’m still healing from surgery, unable to run after you or lift you, and Greta is just too little to be toted all over the place. This will all change, and one of these days I’ll be one of the mothers at the playground with a toddler in hand and an infant on her chest. Not yet, though. Not yet.
In the month we spent apart, your language just took off, and we really chat now. You are saying entire sentences now, like “I dropped it” and “I can’t reach.” You make observations when we read books: “Birds eat berries.” You shock me with the words you know, like apricot. Today when I offered you a larger-than-usual piece of pear, you instructed me to “Cut it.”
Your favorite activities these days are crafty, to my delight—drawing, Play-Doh (which you call “pee-o”), sticker books. You of course still love reading. You also like to cook in your play kitchen with the pots and pans we got you for your birthday, and a fun assortment of play Swedish breakfast food we got at Ikea. You love your little stroller. And New Bunny—the bunny our upstairs neighbors got you while I was in the hospital—is your constant companion. Whatever you do, Bunny does, whether it’s having a “stinky diapo” or trying to hold the baby.
Most remarkable of all as you reach your twenty-fifth month is how loving and concerned a big sister you’ve proven to be. You frequently kiss Greta, and anytime she fusses you run over, Bibi held aloft, and offer it to her for a snuggle. Each morning you toss Bunny into the bassinet. And though your offerings are temporary—“Bibi back,” you say after a few moments—your feelings are touching and show an empathy that is truly astounding. Sometimes you seem to scold me if Greta fusses for a second without a suitable response from me—“Mama, up!” you say, wanting me to pick up the baby, or you remind me that the baby wants “Milk. Milk. Milk.” So far you haven’t seemed to mind when we have to pause in our artwork or games so I can nurse Greta. I’m hoping this continues as Greta moves out of the constant-sleepiness of infanthood and becomes more demanding as we go along.
Addendum to Letter to Lucia (11/17/11)
Little One,
I forgot to add two bits to your letter: At 25 months, you can count to ten and identify and say your colors (the whole rainbow plus pink, black, white, and brown). However, you continue to say “mai” instead of “more”—this seems like something that’s going to stick around a while, especially since Daddy and I say it now too. “Do you want mai cheese?”
Together again! After our long separation, we’re finally back to Mama-and-baby, full tilt now that our post-new-baby visitors have gone home. Daddy went back to work this week (though he’ll be home with us off and on for several more months), so we’re settling back into our days together. Of course, these days look much different now that Greta has joined us, even though, for now, she does little but eat and sleep. The biggest difference is that so far we’ve spent our days inside. I’m still healing from surgery, unable to run after you or lift you, and Greta is just too little to be toted all over the place. This will all change, and one of these days I’ll be one of the mothers at the playground with a toddler in hand and an infant on her chest. Not yet, though. Not yet.
In the month we spent apart, your language just took off, and we really chat now. You are saying entire sentences now, like “I dropped it” and “I can’t reach.” You make observations when we read books: “Birds eat berries.” You shock me with the words you know, like apricot. Today when I offered you a larger-than-usual piece of pear, you instructed me to “Cut it.”
Your favorite activities these days are crafty, to my delight—drawing, Play-Doh (which you call “pee-o”), sticker books. You of course still love reading. You also like to cook in your play kitchen with the pots and pans we got you for your birthday, and a fun assortment of play Swedish breakfast food we got at Ikea. You love your little stroller. And New Bunny—the bunny our upstairs neighbors got you while I was in the hospital—is your constant companion. Whatever you do, Bunny does, whether it’s having a “stinky diapo” or trying to hold the baby.
Most remarkable of all as you reach your twenty-fifth month is how loving and concerned a big sister you’ve proven to be. You frequently kiss Greta, and anytime she fusses you run over, Bibi held aloft, and offer it to her for a snuggle. Each morning you toss Bunny into the bassinet. And though your offerings are temporary—“Bibi back,” you say after a few moments—your feelings are touching and show an empathy that is truly astounding. Sometimes you seem to scold me if Greta fusses for a second without a suitable response from me—“Mama, up!” you say, wanting me to pick up the baby, or you remind me that the baby wants “Milk. Milk. Milk.” So far you haven’t seemed to mind when we have to pause in our artwork or games so I can nurse Greta. I’m hoping this continues as Greta moves out of the constant-sleepiness of infanthood and becomes more demanding as we go along.
Addendum to Letter to Lucia (11/17/11)
Little One,
I forgot to add two bits to your letter: At 25 months, you can count to ten and identify and say your colors (the whole rainbow plus pink, black, white, and brown). However, you continue to say “mai” instead of “more”—this seems like something that’s going to stick around a while, especially since Daddy and I say it now too. “Do you want mai cheese?”
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