Cognosco

Dear Albie,

I know it’s been a few months since your last update, and for that I apologize. It’s been crazy busy in our household, what with you mama applying for jobs and finishing a dissertation and trying not to explode on you in the mean time.

You are now two years old, and like every other mama whose baby has just turned two, I can’t believe it. You are so tall, and so active, and so charming when you want to be. I find it unbelievable that you were once a baby who could not be put down. Now, I count myself lucky when I get to cuddle with you.

I want you to know that I like you. I really enjoy your company. I’m not sure when caring for you became less work and more relationship, but I like it. We still have rough days, and both of us are prone to temper tantrums. I have resigned myself to the fact that you will grow up knowing that yes, mom blows up, but it’s over soon, and really, she is all bark and no bite. That’s just me, and while I am trying to cultivate patience, I’m trying not to beat myself up for not being the mother I think I should be. Because I’m just me. And you’re who you are. And we are both kind of explosive, but I like us that way.

Your latest obsession is TRAINS! We bought an Ikea train set and some accessories back in November, and there are days when you will run your trains around the track for hours. It took some practice and patience for you to learn that you must be gentle or the trains will not obey.  You recently acquired a few trains from the actual Thomas Wooden Railway, and you cherish them. They are special to you and you manage to keep track of them very well. You are obsessed with books about trains, stories about trains, and you even take trains with you to bed. You have been known to call out and sign “train” in your sleep. Obsess much? I have no idea where that trait came from.

You are very good at feeding yourself and often use a non-sippy cup at the table. You like help us unload the dishwasher and fill the dog food. You (sometimes) help pick up your toys and are willing to help put laundry away. You are a total monkey on the playground even Teacher Jan was impressed and also pretty freaked out that you were able to scale the curved ladder thing on the big kid equipment. Not just scale it, but scale it fast and with great aplomb. You are a very physically present little dude. I’m thinking you should have a lot of sports options as you grow because you need an outlet. You even run everywhere. Although you can focus on a single task for a long period of time, when you move from task to task, there is no walking. You run. All the time. Guess you and I will both need to work on that whole enjoying the journey thing…

You are finally saying words, and will say yes (“yeth!”), hi, mama, cat, uh-oh, oops, zipper ("zippa-zippa-zippa"), ball, Bob (the builder), Wally (the robot) and “chow” as in “ka-chow” like Lightning McQueen says. That last one is accompanied by a little jump. Obviously, you have never been shown any TV or movies (oops!). You say baby very clearly (“bay-bee”) and now will say bubble and binky as well. You say your name as either “Alb” or “Abbee” but haven’t quite fused the two together yet. You will also make animal sounds, including a funny, stilted laugh for goat, “oof oof” for dog, “mow” for cat, and you even have a "la-la" sound for Elmo and a funny trumpet sound for elephants. There are other words that you have mastered the first syllable of, and you continue to learn new signs. You know at least 150-200 signs, and now that you are actually getting around to talking with your mouth, I am far less worried about your speech development. For a long time, I would hear you practice words by yourself, but you wouldn’t repeat words to your father or I. A few days ago, you pointed to your lunch and I said, “hot dog”. You repeated, “ottog”. Yesterday, I realized you were saying outside and today you said inside. You point to things and say “that?” if you want to know the name and will try to repeat the word about half of the time. You seem excited and confident about repeating the words you hear. It’s exciting for me to watch too.

You love playing outside with the dogs, and when they run and wrestle with each other, you squeal and giggle with glee and make the sign for silly. Recently, you’ve added the word “slee” to the sign. I think it’s awesome that you took a term like silly and applied it to something that I never have. You actually get the abstract concept. The whole language thing just fascinates me…

A few days ago while we were playing outside I was chasing you and pretending to be a big monster. I have chased you with these same noises ("raaaaawr!") and Great. Big. Slow. Giant. Steps since you were able to walk. A timer in the kitchen went off, and I turned to go back inside. You protested and signed “more, more” and then you signed “elephant”. I was momentarily perplexed. Elephant? I looked around. There were no elephants. It slowly dawned on me that maybe I was the elephant. I pointed to myself and said “mama’s an elephant?” and you jumped up and said “yeth” (yes). I continued to raaaaaawr! and take big steps and you squealed with glee and signed elephant over and over as you ran away. It was the first time that it was obvious to me that you had used your imagination to create something. I had never played that monster with an elephant in mind—but you superimposed an animal onto me. It. Was. Awesome. I got so into playing an elephant that I forgot about the kitchen timer. It was soon followed by the smoke alarm.

You have FINALLY started sleeping later, and it wasn’t a later bedtime that helped. It was moving your nap to later in the day. By shifting that along with your bed time, your whole day shifted. Now you sleep until anywhere from 7 to 9, usually between 7:30 and 8:00. This has been the norm for the last two months. Thank God. Seriously. You have no idea how much happiness this little change has brought your poor night owl mother. However, you have been up by 6:30 a few times in the last week or so, and I fear that this may be a sign of things to come. Please, let this be a fluke. I beg you. If you start waking up super early again, I will seek revenge during your teenage years. Mark my words.

Speaking of sleep, you transitioned to a toddler bed about three weeks ago. The transition has been quite smooth, but keep in mind that your bed is still in our room where your crib used to be. I don’t know if you are ready to be in another room, and more honestly, if I am ready for you to be in another room. Our house is so small that it actually makes more sense this way so it’s sort of a moot point.

You started showing interest in an actual bed when you saw characters in books lying in beds, and then you couldn’t resist laying on the beds at Ikea and signing “sleep” accompanied by snoring sounds. So, I jumped on the chance to make the change while you seemed like you were interested. For the most part, you still go to bed easily at night and stay in bed through the night. Even when you do wake and need some reassurance, you almost always ask to get back into your bed rather than fall asleep next to us. You like your space. So long as you are put to bed with enough light to look at pictures in a book, along with a few cars or trains, your Tiggy, a handful of binkies, and a sippy cup with water in it, you are easy to deal with. I know, it seems like a lot of stuff, but I think it’s great that you have your routine. You usually stay awake for 20 minutes or so, looking at books, playing with your trains, and then you decide to just lay down and sleep. I love that you can do this.

You have also turned into a morning cuddler, and now climb from your bed into our bed to snuggle. I love those early cuddles. I have never been a morning person, but getting a huge hug from you and asking you about your dreams sure makes it easier to get up. Note that it is particularly helpful when it occurs after 7:30…

We recently got you a little Elmo potty to keep in the living room because it was becoming apparent that you had gained more control, but didn’t want to have to get help from us to get on the big potty. We let you run around without a diaper, and for the most part you use the potty. When you have a miss, you let me know right away, and even try to help clean it up. I am trying hard to not pressure you, and so far we are making little steps every day. In the last few days, though, you don’t seem to like the Elmo potty, and want to go back to the big potty. The problem is, you want to get up there yourself, and you just can’t quite do it yet, even with a step stool. So, when we let you at least try to get up yourself, with just our help as opposed to being lifted onto the potty, you are happy to go there. No one can accuse you of not wanting to be independent.

You now recognize pictures of friends you haven’t seen for some time, and will even indicate that you remember where you last saw them. When you saw a picture of your friend Preston, with whom you had ridden the light rail, you signed train. When I dropped you off at Nanna’s house last week, you saw a picture of your cousin Hanna (who moved to another state about 6 weeks ago) and you signed “cousin”. I didn’t know that you had even learned that sign, or that you could apply it to her. You are also able to communicate things about your day, like the day I asked you if you had chicken for dinner, and you said yes and then signed “apple”. Turns out, you’d had an apple too. As a psychologist, this kind of memory development is ridiculously exciting for me.

You still go to the parent-toddler class once a week at the Child Study Lab preschool on campus. It has been such a joy to watch all of the kids change over the last few months, but of course, I love watching you the most. Last week, I was chatting with some other moms across the room from where you were. I looked over, and you and another little boy were playing with one of the toys where you send a ball down a track and it keeps falling to the next track and eventually rings a little bell at the bottom. There are many variations of this toy and so I’m sure you get the idea. It was noteworthy that you and the other boy weren’t fighting over the toy. Then I looked closer and realized you were taking turns. You were taking turns placing balls on the track and picking them up at the end. No adults were standing near you and so the two of you had worked this out on your own. I was so proud of both of you. You and this little boy have played together quite often in the last few weeks and it’s awesome to see that you have a new friend.

You still love your binkies, and now that you are actively trying to speak, I don’t really care how long you love them. Some days, you don’t use it at all. Other days, I can’t get it away from you. And if I hide them from you, you just end up shoving your fist or random toys into your mouth. I think the binky is the lesser of many evils, especially since I am almost totally confident that there is no lead paint on your binky.

You still have long hair in the back, and are regularly called a girl, no matter how masculine your clothes are. I have suggested to your daddy that when we do finally cut it, we should dress you in pink and see what happens. I have a theory that you will still be called a girl. This would indicate that a child is automatically a girl unless s/he is masculine ENOUGH, which requires appropriate clothing and hair. I will spare you my feminist diatribe on the subject, because I guarantee that by the time you are old enough to read these updates, you will have already heard similar diatribes. Frequently. It’s part of my charm.

I used to be really diligent about tooth updates for you, and have totally slacked on that in the last 9 months. So, for the sake of some sort of consistency, you now have your first set of molars, and your four canines came in about two weeks ago. The molars came in last fall.

I feel so lucky to have you as my son. It has been a rough adjustment, and I was completely unprepared for how having a child would rock my world. It got so much easier once I stopped thinking things would get back to “normal”. This is the new “normal”, and it is constantly shape-shifting. Every time I have a handle on your behaviors and routines, you change. It’s your job, this growing up thing. Now that I realize this IS our life and it is what it is, I kind of like it. And like I said, I like you. You have never been an easy child, but this passion of yours has become one of the things I love most. Happy birthday, sweet boy. Despite all of the challenges, you have been the best two years of my life.

Love,

Mama