Dear Baby Ike,
More than two weeks ago already, you turned fifteen months. I’m clearly having just as hard a time keeping up with these letters to you as I have keeping up with you these days. You are very much on the move. The pitter-patter of your still fairly tiny feet sound off at a pace that I suppose qualifies as running. I can put you down in one spot, turn my head for just a second, and then have to guess which direction you went. Usually, if we haven’t taken care to put Dexter’s water bowl up out of your reach, you’ll be found in the inevitable puddle.
At your fifteen month checkup with the pediatrician, you weighed in at 22 pounds and three ounces, and were measured at 30 inches tall, which again puts you right in the middle of the pack for weight, though on the shorter side. Your head circumference is still on the higher end of the curve, which makes it very tempting to dress you up as Charlie Brown for Halloween. All we’d need is a yellow tee shirt and some electrical tape! While you still don’t have much hair on top of your head, you have sprouted some length in the back. Business in the front, party in the back, baby-mullet style. I already don’t ever want to give you a haircut, but your father will likely prevail before I let you look like too much of a flower child.
Really, I should find you a little doggie costume for Beggar’s Night, as that is still your favorite word, followed closely by ‘birdie’ and ‘apple,’ which sounds more like ‘ahh-puuuw.’ I can’t get enough of it. When we read the Charley Harper ABCs book we borrowed from the library, you’ll chime right in on B is for BIR-DEEEE and D is for DAGG-EEEE. You find much joy in putting Daddy’s baseball cap on my head, which serves as a great distraction during the diaper changes you’ll hardly hold still for anymore. You’re picking up more and more words every week, including ‘hat’ and also ‘head,’ which you’ll throw your hands onto when asked where it is. You also say ‘cheese’ (kee) and ‘keys’ (dee-dee) and probably at least seven other words that I am forgetting right now. Oh yes, PEE. We hear that with regularity during diaper changes. You call every infant or kid, and some adults too, in photos or random product packaging, ‘bee-bee’ (baby). When you see pictures of me and your dad you point and exclaim MOMMY and/or DADDY. I’m a little sad to have Mama fade into Mommy already, but you still bring Mama back every once in a while, for which I’m ridiculously, sentimentally grateful.
It takes you a little while to warm up around new people or those you don’t see very often, but sooner than later your curiosity takes over and you’re all explorer, checking out what you can get into if we’ve taken you to a new place. As we move further into toddler territory, I know that we need to set firm limits on a lot of things, but I hope that you will keep that overwhelming curiosity at the same time. I love watching you discover the world, giving names to things, and seeing your face light up at our excitement as you start to say those names out loud.
Next month you’ll be the ring bearer in Uncle Mikey and [almost technically legally finally] Aunt Steph’s wedding. Your tiny suit arrived last week. I’m torn on whether to look further for dress shoes for you or to just let you rock the black and white sneaks you already have that are probably almost close enough to fitting to work. I honestly have no idea how you’ll react to a church full of guests looking at us (I will accompany you as the Flower Maid – a hybrid of bridesmaid and flower girl) and oohing and ahhing over your cuteness. Around the house or out and about you will sometimes take my hand and lead me over to show me something, but I don’t necessarily expect that to work well on the spot. I’m searching for some much lower than I’d normally wear heels, because I expect I might end up having to pick you up and walk you down the aisle. Hopefully having Daddy at the other end will help; you can always steal the show taking off running toward him. I just hope that if you do become the center of attention it’s not for thrashing or screaming or earnest fussing. As long as I don’t try to brush your teeth during the ceremony, we probably won’t cause too much chaos…though those may be famous last words!
The next letter I write to you here will be for your half-birthday. I can’t wait to see how much you change between now and then. I know it will be a lot, but as the months go by, I find I can never quite imagine the amusement (and some frustrations, of course) you’ll provide for us next.
Love you so much,
Mama (hanging onto that as long as I can!), better known now as Mommy