Made in Richmond

JR,

Lately when I’ve been writing these monthly letters, I’ve gone back to see where we were a year ago. Back then we were celebrating the arrival of your first tooth, your first plane ride, and your first chance to meet James and Jennifer, your wonderful and loving godparents who were off in Scotland being missionaries when you were born. Those are really great memories, but I’m also a fan of where we are now.

I guess as of today, you are officially 1 and 3/4 years old — oh so very close to 2 that I almost can’t stomach it.

You talk constantly and are stringing words together all the time. The other day we were walking somewhere and you didn’t want to be holding your water cup anymore. So you paused, held it up to me, and said “Mama hold it?” It was one of those times where I was stunned by the thought of “Whoa, he’s a person and I made him. Like he was in my belly, then he came out, and now he’s, like, a guy.”

While your communication skills are developing like crazy, you still have those typical moments of toddler frustration over not being able to express what you want. Those can lead to some pretty epic fits on your part, but you usually calm down pretty quickly when we give you a few things to choose from — most times we’re able to figure out what your deal is just enough to at least do that.

Speaking of fits, temper tantrums have made quite an appearance lately. You are one stubborn kid, and if we try to get you to do something that isn’t your idea, it can lead to some wicked crying. But please note: your father and I are a united front. This will not change. We love you, but that carrying on is not going to get you anywhere.

While the temper tantrums can be a tad maddening (also LOUD), it’s reminding us that you are, in fact, a whole person. You are extremely happy most of the time, but we’re starting to see different facets of your personality, some of which you clearly get from us. For example, you can be quite the surly one when you haven’t slept well (me) and usually after a day away from us, what you need most is a nice cuddle on the couch to chase away the crabbiness (your dad). You’re a bit hesitant around new people are experiences (me) but once comfortable, you are smiles and laughs (your dad).

Physically, you continue to sport some delicious pudge, but parts of you are beginning to thin out. Your little pot belly is almost gone, and your arms and legs are definitely getting longer. Some mornings it seems as if you’ve noticeably grown overnight. You’ve still got my fair skin, but have managed to get a little bit of color with the Summer sunshine. Your reddish hair is turning more blonde, but I’m holding out hope that it will redden back up once fall hits (that’s what your Aunt Phanie’s does and she claims she’s responsible for your red hair even though you aren’t blood relatives). Everyone says that you look like me, but I’m starting to see your dad in your facial expressions. I’m betting on you being a gingery version of him. Not a bad lot in life, my friend, because your dad is quite the looker, in my opinion.

Sleeping continues to go well. You’ve had a handful of nights over the last few weeks when you have fought going to bed, but I think those were due to some weird schedules (thanks to July 4th celebrations and what not) and just your growing general awareness of what is going on in the world around you. I think you’ve started having bad dreams, which breaks my heart a little bit, but you manage to shake them off pretty quickly. You’re still napping for 2 to 3 hours in the afternoon and a pretty solid 12 hours at night, so no complaints here.

Your dad is quickly becoming your favorite person. Lately when we drop you off at daycare, you prefer him to carry you inside so you guys can hug on your way up to the door. When he’s not with us, you ask about him often and make sure to point out things around the house that belong to him: Dada’s soos, Dada’s wat-ah, Dada’s hat. It’s very sweet and it makes me so happy to see how much you love each other.

One thing that has blown me away this month is your memory. Two stories come to mind…

First, several weeks ago, we had lunch with your Mamaw and Papaw at a restaurant near our house. Now, whenever we pass by that restaurant or stop in at the drugstore nearby, you point towards it and say “MANAH!” (your word for Mamaw). You also seem to understand that Mamaw drives a bright red car and consequently declare that ALL red cards are “Manah’s car.”

Second, again, several weeks ago, I took you with me to Kroger. I decided that you were finally big enough for us to get one of the carts that has a little car in front where kids can sit. It was the most pleasant shopping experience I’ve had in a long time. You clearly enjoyed it, too, because the other day, we were stopped at the intersection where you turn to get into the store’s parking lot, and you started shouting “CAR! RIIIIIIIDE! PEEEEEEEEEASE?” Now I think those car-carts are your sole reason for living because you talk about them constantly.

School continues to go well. You love your teachers and it’s wonderful to see how much they love you. You’re learning all kinds of new words and sounds, making friends, becoming such a big boy. Late last month I went to parent meeting after work, so I was later than usual picking you up. You were the last kid in your class (hello, GUILT) so the teachers were just hanging out and playing with you. When I walked in, you were carefully putting away the books the were out and about in the room. One of your teachers said, “He’s cleaning up. He always cleans up. In fact, he’s the only one who will really help clean up when we ask.” I mean, I’ve been proud of you before, but that was always for milestones and the like. This was for a behavior — one that we try to nurture in you. PARENTING WIN, SUCKAS. (I don’t know who the “Suckas” are, but you know.)

Oh, JR, I can’t even explain how much we love you. We love you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes; we love you to the moon and back; we love you more than we love Battlestar Galactica. And dude, that’s saying a lot.

Love,

Mama