1 year + 2 months with Alice

Posted on 26. Jul, 2011 by Princess Lasertron in alice, baby

Dear Alice,

This month you are fourteen months old. I put off writing this letter to you for a while because I haven’t found the motivation. It’s been such a busy month full of unexpected changes and successes and problems and expenses and great news and anxiety and nervousness…and you’ve continued to grow and develop and learn faster than I can keep up with you. Every day–absolutely every day–I tell myself that these are the best times of my life. That I must pay attention to everything going on, absorb the details of my surroundings, and appreciate the rarity of each moment. I think I am doing okay, but it’s so amazing how everything becomes more significant after you become a mom.

It’s been a super hot month, with the heat index over 100 degrees most days. This week our air conditioner broke so whenever we are home, you get totally naked. We play with cool water in the tub, eat frozen watermelon, and yell into the fan Dad bought for us and hear our voices change in modulation. We also go swimming at least once a week in Blair where Grandma and Grandpa live. The pool there is really nice–there’s a free baby pool, where you swim and play by yourself, and there’s the big-people pool where you can go when we are holding you. You HATE being held in the water, and you want to swim by yourself. Sometimes I let you go, thinking that when your body submerges and I pull you out of the water you will learn that you have to hold on to me, that you can’t swim by yourself yet. But as soon as your head is above water you push me away again, reaching and straining for the open water.

That’s been the growing theme of the last few months–pushing off, clamoring for your own independence and learning about what happens when the safety net is taken away. Hey Alice, I hear what you are saying. You don’t need your food cut up. You can use a fork. Yes, you can get out of your stroller. You can go down the stairs by yourself. You can play with the hose. And you’re right–it’s okay. You have to try.

What else is new this month?
…Your new favorite snack is frozen watermelon.
…You like to make piles and put things away.
…You can find your eyes, nose, hat (top of your head), hair, ears, lips, teeth, tongue, toes, and belly button.
…Still nursing. That’s not new.
…You could eat 25 bananas a day.
…I can no longer put you to sleep–only dad can get you to go down for the night.
…You love climbing.
…You hold my camera up to your face.

…There are lots of little chairs for you at our house and CAMP that you are so satisfied to sit in.
…Your love for animals is growing. You want to hug every dog, kitty, bird, and toad you see. And everything is a “woof-woof” until we tell you the right word.
…You are starting to take on more of my personality aspects–bossy, curious, needing to be involved in everything–and you have learned to be so sociable.
…You sleep with your finger in your belly button
…Four teeth on top and two on the bottom, but your top teeth never show when you smile.
…You snore and sigh loudly in your sleep.
…You are so fearless. You jumped off our coffee table onto a pile of pillows. You want to touch every animal.
…But you don’t want to be held by anyone but mom, dad, grandma, or grandpa. Starting to warm up a little to Shannon and Emma.
…And you are so TALL!!! I think you’re already half my height.

Right now it’s two o’clock it the morning and we are at Grandma and Grandpa’s house and you are asleep upstairs in my old room in the wooden trundle underneath my bed, surrounded by soft pillows, your crocheted blankie, and Flocki the Bunny. It took forever to get you to sleep. I can see that you have trouble calming your mind and quieting your thoughts. I watch your eyes trace the room, your hand involuntarily reaching out for things you long to touch and investigate. “Heh?” you ask absentmindedly, as your brain continues to work and learn and your limp, tired body relaxes on my shoulder.

We’re waking up early to go home and get ready for a 9am photoshoot and interview. Someday I hope you remember these times with me as you grew up, shadowing me at work, as fun and special. I know that not every little girl gets to do interesting job things like this with her mama, but not every mama gets to have a sweet little baby sidekick either. We’re both lucky.

I’m going to go jump into bed now and fall asleep listening to you snore. When you wake up in the morning I will listen to your little song and baby coos and I will tell you everything that happened while you were dreaming. Everything you do is significant, and it’s my greatest gift to be the keeper of these memories, the nurturer of your wonder and fascination, and the shadow standing behind you who gives you the courage and fearlessness to try everything for the first time.

I love you.
mama

Tags: alice, letters