Dear Landon,
These are getting harder and harder to write, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. One day I will take them all and the pictures I have included and print them and put them in your scrapbook. But honestly, I just don’t have the time to do it. Maybe we’ll sit down together in a few years and do it together.
The thing is that when I am at home, I want to be with you, not doing something else. There are days that I spend at the office just wanting to go home and play with you. And then I get home and you’re a little turd for us in the evenings and it makes me rethink my whole goal of working from home. Your daddy assures me that since you spend your time at Linda’s playing, that when I finally get to spend those hours with you it will be worth all the extra effort. I pray he’s right, because this hasn’t been the easiest 15 months.
We are continually trying to introduce new things to you, although sometimes we don’t give you what we’re having for dinner because we think it’s too spicy. I never intend to be the type of Mom who makes 2 separate meals at dinner, but there are just some things we don’t think you’re ready for. So it was kind of a surprise to us the other night when you kept urging us to give you something off the table and we didn’t know what you wanted. As it turned out, you wanted the ribs we were eating, not that stupid banana we were waving in front of your face. I didn’t think you’d like them, since you have not historically been a fan of beef and I was leery because of the spiciness, but it seems you are definitely our child. I guess the days of separate meals are finally nearing an end for us.
You are such an animal lover. You insist on feeding the cats twice a day, not that you’re insisting that they be fed, but that you are the one who does it. You still hug Scarlett and Fiona as much as they will allow you. It’s a testament to her that she just lets you do whatever you want to her, and then licks your face when you hug her. Fiona is a little less tolerant; she just runs away – if you have nothing tasty on your face for her to lick off, she has no use for you. While we know that you love them, you occasionally do things that are kind of mean. We know it’s because you don’t know any better and we are working on your treatment of them. For example, using Fiona’s hips as a step stool is really not cool, and while Scarlett tolerates you getting on her back when she’s lying down, she honestly doesn’t want you “riding” her. When we stop you from doing something to them, you always hug them – like an apology I suppose – and that’s good, but maybe, you should stop doing the mean things in the first place.
You are a neat freak…kind of. You don’t voluntarily clean up your toys, but you will help it that’s what we’re doing. You also like to throw things away. You get this from your father. You throw away anything we hand you and tell you to throw away, and sometimes you pick up pinecones and pine needles and throw them away on your own. It’s a nice and fun activity and it keeps you busy as we hand you stuff and tell you to throw it away, and we congratulate you on being a “big helper.”
Sometimes it’s the only way I can get dinner cooked; I keep the pile of junk mail beside me and hand it to you one piece at a time. However, sometimes you throw things away on your own. Like your toothbrush. And I only find out about it later, when I can’t find your toothbrush. I guess all in all, I’d rather replace your toothbrush and still have you throw away my trash for me. Next step is teaching you to get Mama a Coke.
We have had a small breakthrough in communication. You take instruction “go throw this away” and you recognize several nouns and what they mean. “Where’s your nose?” “Where are Mama’s eyes?” (Although you are a little dangerous with the pointing out of other people’s eyes.) I’m still holding out hope that more useful words are just around the corner for us. I don’t know what those words are specifically, but hopefully they’re the ones that tell us what the heck you want, so we don’t have to listen to the grunting whining noise.
Love,
Mama
These are getting harder and harder to write, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. One day I will take them all and the pictures I have included and print them and put them in your scrapbook. But honestly, I just don’t have the time to do it. Maybe we’ll sit down together in a few years and do it together.
The thing is that when I am at home, I want to be with you, not doing something else. There are days that I spend at the office just wanting to go home and play with you. And then I get home and you’re a little turd for us in the evenings and it makes me rethink my whole goal of working from home. Your daddy assures me that since you spend your time at Linda’s playing, that when I finally get to spend those hours with you it will be worth all the extra effort. I pray he’s right, because this hasn’t been the easiest 15 months.
We are continually trying to introduce new things to you, although sometimes we don’t give you what we’re having for dinner because we think it’s too spicy. I never intend to be the type of Mom who makes 2 separate meals at dinner, but there are just some things we don’t think you’re ready for. So it was kind of a surprise to us the other night when you kept urging us to give you something off the table and we didn’t know what you wanted. As it turned out, you wanted the ribs we were eating, not that stupid banana we were waving in front of your face. I didn’t think you’d like them, since you have not historically been a fan of beef and I was leery because of the spiciness, but it seems you are definitely our child. I guess the days of separate meals are finally nearing an end for us.You are such an animal lover. You insist on feeding the cats twice a day, not that you’re insisting that they be fed, but that you are the one who does it. You still hug Scarlett and Fiona as much as they will allow you. It’s a testament to her that she just lets you do whatever you want to her, and then licks your face when you hug her. Fiona is a little less tolerant; she just runs away – if you have nothing tasty on your face for her to lick off, she has no use for you. While we know that you love them, you occasionally do things that are kind of mean. We know it’s because you don’t know any better and we are working on your treatment of them. For example, using Fiona’s hips as a step stool is really not cool, and while Scarlett tolerates you getting on her back when she’s lying down, she honestly doesn’t want you “riding” her. When we stop you from doing something to them, you always hug them – like an apology I suppose – and that’s good, but maybe, you should stop doing the mean things in the first place.
You are a neat freak…kind of. You don’t voluntarily clean up your toys, but you will help it that’s what we’re doing. You also like to throw things away. You get this from your father. You throw away anything we hand you and tell you to throw away, and sometimes you pick up pinecones and pine needles and throw them away on your own. It’s a nice and fun activity and it keeps you busy as we hand you stuff and tell you to throw it away, and we congratulate you on being a “big helper.”
Sometimes it’s the only way I can get dinner cooked; I keep the pile of junk mail beside me and hand it to you one piece at a time. However, sometimes you throw things away on your own. Like your toothbrush. And I only find out about it later, when I can’t find your toothbrush. I guess all in all, I’d rather replace your toothbrush and still have you throw away my trash for me. Next step is teaching you to get Mama a Coke.We have had a small breakthrough in communication. You take instruction “go throw this away” and you recognize several nouns and what they mean. “Where’s your nose?” “Where are Mama’s eyes?” (Although you are a little dangerous with the pointing out of other people’s eyes.) I’m still holding out hope that more useful words are just around the corner for us. I don’t know what those words are specifically, but hopefully they’re the ones that tell us what the heck you want, so we don’t have to listen to the grunting whining noise.Love,
Mama
2 comments:
I never expected to be the sort to make 2 meals for my family, either, but I can't seem to get past it. Ben's the world's worst eater, and declares ANYTHING spicy.
Gah.
Natalie ate everything from sushi to black beans, th squash at 2. At 3 she eats bread. And noodles. And more bread. She picks breakfast and lunch, but we still refuse to make her separate dinners unless it's something really odd.
Landon is sooo cute.
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