Friday, October 28, 2011

Dear Graham, Months 14 and 15

Dear Graham,
Yes, I combined two months of letters. Yes, I realize that makes me a horrible mommy. (And I could insert some cliche here, like do what I say and not what I do, but really...isn't it always easier to say, than do? Who came up with that expression anyway?)


Let me tell you about all of the progress you've made in the last eight weeks. First of all, you walk. All the time. Everywhere. And it's no longer a walk with both arms out parallel to the ground for balance. You walk normally. Like a real human being. You pick items up off the ground without falling over. And. You. Can. Stand. Up. On. Your. Own. Let's take a moment of silence for small miracles...your mommy is incredibly thankful that you no longer fall down walking and then just sit there moaning until we come and stand you back up.

 


The freedom you demonstrate now that you're an old walking pro is fascinating. Somehow you know to walk straight toward the street when you're anywhere in our front yard. It's like danger is calling your name and you come a' runnin'. I kindly stop you, pick you up, and carry you to a nice, safe, free-from-cars-that-could-run-you-over-zone, and you head right back for the street.

This leads me to your next big development: making your feelings known. Apparently you don't like it when mommy saves your life doesn't let you go into the street and picks you up. You let this be known by screaming and arching your back. Good times.


We made two trips to Florida during your 13th and 14th month. One was pretty miserable, and one was pretty amazing. I'll let you guess which is which. Your mommy and your Uncle Sean had been planning a trip for awhile for you and me to visit Uncle Sean and see his new house. We finally settled on a date and headed out the last weekend in September. We can pass travel due to daddy's job, which essentially means we get any empty seats on an airplane that aren't already taken by passengers. (Oftentimes, there are none. Or negative empty seats. Those are good times too. But back to the trip.) You and I got assigned a middle seat. Which wouldn't have been so bad when you were a baby. But now that you know how to walk, you would have thought I was torturing you by making you sit on my lap the whole way.

I knew this would be a challenge, so I came prepared. I had new toys. New books. And, most importantly, puffs. However, none of this seemed to matter when the man sitting to the right of us decided to attempt to read a Wall Street Journal. On an airplane. With a 14-month old sitting next to him. And what did you proceed to do? Hit the Wall Street Journal. Over and over. That was more fascinating to you that any amount of toys, books, or puffs. Fortunately for all of us, he was a patient man with two kids of his own.

Somehow between Texas and Florida you contracted tuberculosis. (Just kidding. Sort of.) You developed this crazy cough that prohibited you from napping. Or sleeping at night. Or being genuinely pleasant at all. So despite all kinds of family traveling to see us at Uncle Sean's house, you didn't want much to do with anyone else. We ended up flying back to Houston late the next day, because Sunday's flights ended up being oversold anyways. It was a chaotic 36 hour trip to Florida.

The next trip included your daddy and involved you staying with Grandma and Grandpa while mommy and daddy escaped for a few days on a cruise. You did amazingly well, but attached yourself to your Grandma and wanted nothing to do with anyone else. Your Grandma didn't seem to mind this one bit, but it would have been nice for you to share a few smiles and precious moments with other relatives who love you so much.


You actually understand what we are saying now (or at least part of the time) and react to our questions or commands. You actually go find the ball when we ask "Where's the ball?" My favorite new trick of yours is when we ask you where your belly button is and you slowly lift up your shirt to show us.


Only in the past week have you started saying a few new words. "Baaa" is ball to you and "meeeeelk" is milk. Just tonight you said pup-pup for the puppy in your book. I feel you are on the brink of grasping so many new words. Your signing is getting better as well, as you sign "more", "all done" and at school, they say you know "please" too, although we're still working on that at home.

While this isn't directly a "Graham development," it's a family development...your daddy completed his training to become a Captain in September. You would be so proud of him if you knew what all it entailed. Now that he is a Captain; however, it's meant that he's traveling more because he's based on Chicago. So while we don't see him as much,  you and I look at pictures together and I say "Where's Daddy?" and you point to his picture. You love being around Daddy when he's home and he loves being with you.

I know I say this in each letter, but we can't imagine our lives without you. Your sweet giggles are the most precious thing I've ever heard. I love being your mommy.

Love,
Mommy