Time has passed. There were things I wanted to say, before.
You learned to walk right at one. I missed it. I was working in Mobile. You were at your Dee Dee’s house. I came to visit, after your birthday, and right when you woke up somebody came and got me and said “watch this” and I wanted to cry, because I knew they were about to show me you walking and I’d wanted you to wait until we were together again.
You’re sturdy, like your brother, and walked pretty solidly from the beginning. Now, of course, you run. You are devilish. You have a sort of mischievous grin. Seriously. Nothing like your brother. You launch yourself into danger. You shake your head in a wild man kind of way. You stand an inch from the tv to watch it, hands in the back of your pants. You say a million words.
You are our little parrot. You say sentences already, at 16 months. Shoot, 17 months. You don’t like Time Out, thank heavens. That’s or only recourse, since shouting NO and telling you to stop doing things doesn’t work at all – you just laugh and keep doing it. A worryin response.
You love the cat and dog. You like to lay on them, burying your face in their fur. You love your puppy. We just weaned you off of bottles, except one at night when you go to sleep. You still wear a sleep sack. You sleep flat on your back, hands flung wide – or sometimes on your tummy, butt in the air, though you do that less and less. We share a nanny with Owen, and even though he’s only five months younger than you and almost exactly the same height, whenever you talk to him you get down on your chubby toddler knees and talk in the high, sweet baby voice that i use when I talk to you. You love me. You call me Da Da. Every time.
When you smile wide, your eyes disappear. They are dark brown. Your hair is blond. you look a lot like your Aunt Amanda, at whose wedding you slept and slept, because you were sick. You call crackers “cocks,” and cars, too. Iun juice means I want juice. Bash means bath. When I ask you what any animal says, you say Moo – except when I ask what a cow says, to which you reply Cow. The other day, you were sticking raisins to your forehead and laughing madly at your incredible wit. Raisins are for eating, you know.