eLLe - 14 months

Dear Luciya,

Well.

Look at the big, beautiful fourteen-month-old!

I'm kind of holding my breath as I write this, because you napped today without a pacifier and I was so inspired by that that I just put you down for bed without one, too. And you're quie-- wait. Okay, there you go. You're wailing. Darn it! Okay, I'm debating. I'm - shoot. Be right back.

So, maybe the sudden cold-turkey thing isn't the way to go with this. (Is there another way to go cold-turkey besides sudden?) I just went in to your room to see you standing up, clinging to the side of your crib in red-faced desperation, crocodile tears streaming. Let's start this a little more slowly. One day at a time. Forgoing naptime pacis first. Hush.

What a wonderful time to be 14 months old! The weather has been stupid-gorgeous. Like 90+ degrees gorgeous. We've been swimming in the pool and sliding in the park (on the shady side, of course -- no stuck-burned-bottoms here).


You are embracing your toddlerhood - vibrant, vivacious, and very, very vocal (you can say mama, dada, dog, and bye-bye). You're the squawky screamer at Stroller Strides, and the adorable, precocious charmer who's not afraid of strangers. You love to dance and move. You're on the verge of running. You point at everything and hiss. Yes, you hiss. "Sss." I think you're saying "wasssat?" You point at the ceiling, the sky. You point both hands at once, in opposite directions, and look in a third direction. Your first top tooth is starting to make its painful, jaggedy appearance. You tumble. You toddle. You snack. You climb.


Just this morning, you climbed up onto the couch! Granted, it was the low futon, but sure as you're born you heaved and hefted, and the next thing I knew you were sitting there next to me, pleased as punch.

Oh boy. Here we go.

Your Auma Kelly was here last week and we basked in the glory of Summer. We took you boating and put you in a life jacket.

Yeah, you loved it? Um, no. No you didn't.


You're napping once a day, sometimes for 3 hours, sometimes for an hour and a half. Today was a short-nap day, and I ended up putting you to bed about 20 minutes early because you were facing a serious meltdown. You're sleeping a solid 12 hours at night, which is a dream (no pun intended.) You wake up happy and babbling, and your sweet, genuine smile is such a nice way for me to be greeted each day.

You have a new friend coming over every Thursday for four hours in the afternoon so mommy can get some work done and run errands. Her name is Renee and she speaks the language of babies very well. I've left you alone with her twice, and next Thursday I may even have her stay later that 6:00 so I can go to a Mom's Night Out. Fun! You seem to really enjoy her. The two of you have been going to the park and playing outside and reading your ever-expanding collection of books.


You still love books. You don't necessarily want to hear the actual story on the pages. You want to see a picture here and there, hear some funny words, and flip the pages yourself. Then you wriggle off the reader's lap and on to the next acitivity. You are nonstop.

Non. Stop.


You're a veritable locomotive of a child. I think that's why you haaaaaaate being in the stroller - God forbid anyone try to hinder you from exploring the world! The world that is all yours. The rest of us just live in it. I think I'm going to have to start disciplining soon, because as far as you're concerned, nothing is off limits. If you want to play with someone else's toy, too bad if they happen to already be playing with it. It's yours. If you want to eat that bug in the dirt, well, that's why he's there - to be eaten by you. You are brash to the point of ruthlessness, daring to the point of insolence... and lovely to the point of tear-jerking.


And you are still awed into quiet wonder by nature. I recently found this video of you from nearly a year ago, and I was stunned by the quiet bliss in your little body.


nature babe - 3 months old from shemmy on Vimeo.


You are still amazed with the green earth and calmed by her gentle breezes.

And energized by water.


gurgle from shemmy on Vimeo.

What a difference a year has made in you, my sweet. My butternut. My monkey face. My blessing. My joy.


I love you, Luciya!

Love,
Mama