Stories and Learning: My monthly letter to Alice #25

Posted on 04. Jul, 2012 by Princess Lasertron in at the office, pertaining to alice

Dear Cool Boss Girl Alice:

Another month of too much to say to put into one letter. Too many things I swore I wouldn’t forget, so many funny things you said or did, so many plans I’ve made for you and us and so much good news about how smart and cool you’re becoming.

So every morning, you wake up around 7 or 8am with your dad. He makes you breakfast and gets you changed and dressed, and you guys play a little bit before he goes to work. Then you usually climb into bed with me, unplug my phone from the wall, and queue up a show on Netflix (“watching red,” you call it) while I snooze for a while. As I wake up, we snuggle and chat. This morning you wiggled under the covers and nuzzled my shoulder and said “Best, Fwends.” My heart has never melted so hard. I don’t even know where you heard that phrase but you used it so perfectly and at just the right time that it’ll probably be impossible to get mad or annoyed at you for the rest of the month. Best fwends.

This is also the first month that you’ve started saying “love.” “Adiss, love, mama!” “Adiss, love, kitties!” “Adiss, love, macaroni!” Before you fall asleep every night, we sing a song and then ask you, “Who loves Alice?” The first two names you always say are “Ba-Pa Dave, Gramma Judy” (your dad’s parents), then the next names you say are always different. Usually you mention Aunt Hair (my business partner Sarah), Howard (her dog), and some inanimate objects like sandwiches, or the moon.

The moon–that’s another thing worth talking about. Your favorite thing is still the moon, so we started teaching you more about it. Next to the sink where we brush our teeth is a moon phase calendar, and we look at the shape of the moon while we brush in the morning and talk about it. As soon as the moon starts peeking up over our treetops, we can go out and look at it and talk about the phase–waxing gibbous. Waning crescent. First quarter. You are a little moon girl. Today Aunt Sarah told you, “Remember how the moon is just a big white polka dot in the sky?” You should have seen your giant smile.

Aunt Sarah and I got our new office for our company Hello Holiday a few weeks ago. It’s still being built out–they’re drywalling now. When we went in to see the space at first, you came with us. We noticed a bird stuck in the window, and we opened the screen and the bird flew away. We watched it soar over the street and disappear around a building. “She must have gone back to her family,” I reassured you as you wailed, crying with worry. Once you calmed down, you retold the story to anyone who would listen, and sometimes as your excitement grew, the details of the story would get lost a little bit. Maybe it was a bat instead of a bird. Maybe it flew around the room before it went out the window. But each story ended with “Guess she flyin back whammy!” (Back to her family.)

I’m working really hard–harder than I usually do–to make money so we can go on a vacation. I’m determined to take you to Berlin for a few weeks this year. I priced airplane tickets and I’ve been scoping some places on airbnb in Charlottenburg. It would actually cost less for us to go than my overhead at CAMP was every month, so I know it’s totally do-able this year. Anyway, that’s not your problem–I’m just looking forward to taking you to this place that is so special to me.

What else is new?

• Potty training is going well. You can do panties all day at home and we just use a pull-up when we go out.
• You’re a great little helper in my home office. You sort buttons, cut fabric, and type on my computer. It’s nice having you while I work at home. I’m getting so much more done, too, and you don’t have to stay quiet.
• I broke my finger this month–a wacky dumb double fracture. When I take my splint off to wash my hands or take a shower, you like to put it over your finger, hold it, keel over and say “it hurt so bad!” with a big smile on your face.
• You prefer to not wear clothes. Every day, it’s “Adiss, just, be, nay-nake?”
• Your favorite tv shows are My Little Pony, Pingu, Kipper, and Tillie Knock Knock. You find them all yourself on my Netflix app.
• “One, two, three, jump!” That game never gets old.
• You love to dance and spin.
• You love riding your bike. I cleaned the house so there’s more room on the wood floors. A nice path you can go around and around on.
• This morning I found you in front of the open fridge drinking almond milk out of the carton.
• You favorite foods are grapes, macaroni and cheese, and almonds.
• Telling us the wrong answers or making things up is your favorite joke. A favorite game is “What’s your name?” and then you say something crazy.

Things are sort of slow in your life, which is good. We stay home most days. It’s VERY hot–up to the high 90s or 100s most days. We wake up, we work, we eat, we play. Naptime is regular and bedtime is regular, and you go to sleep quickly and happily. Once in a while I can steal a nap with you in the big bed, and those are the best days. When you get upset, you pout and I ask you to go take a break in your room, and you stomp off. I try not to smile.

The most exciting news of this month is that you got accepted to Dundee Montessori preschool in our neighborhood. We went to an open house there a few months ago and you had a really good time. We were the only family there at the time, so you got to try lots of different activities and have a tour of the whole school, which is in a little house. You polished some wooden knick knacks on a shelf and put them away, sorted beads and pom poms, and did a puzzle. We got your acceptance letter last week with a list of supplies we need to get for your first day of preschool in August. Two boxes of crackers for snacktime, kleenex, and my favorite: “A pair of tiny slippers.”

I love you, Alice. The most amazing thing is how you always seem to give me what I need at just the right time. When you were born, you helped me slow down and your easygoing nature kept me calm and unfrazzled. As you got older, you played alongside me at the office as my workload got more strenuous and intense. And now as a toddler, your bravery and fearlessness is helping me personally too. You don’t know what you can’t do. You don’t know what you’re not supposed to do. You don’t know what people won’t believe you can do. You’re happy and proud when you accomplish something–you don’t talk yourself out of your accomplishments or play down compliments about your skills. You smile and cheer for yourself and always try again when you don’t get what you want. As you get older, people say you look and act more like me. The truth is, my smart little bear, I’d really love to act more like you.

xx
mama