Month Eighteen

Dear Abe,

You are an “official” age today … I consider it official because 18 months is used as a clothes measurement (very scientific of me). Also, today is a day that only happens once every four years! So, the next time I can post on February 29th, you will be 5 and a half! What do you think about THAT? MINDBLOWING.



You are definitely still chatting up a storm, and let me tell you, I certainly enjoy it. One of my favorites when you try to say the name, “Anthony” (the Blue Wiggle for all of you not Wiggle-friendly). It sounds a little like “Annthinnnny,” but it is all quiet-like and the syllables are very jumbled together.

You know some colors (although you like to tell us most things are “geeeen”) and you love to color or “coco” as you call it. Your obsession was started when we bought do-it-yourself Shrek Valentine cards (don’t get all excited people, they weren’t that crafty.) You loved coloring on every square inch of the cards, and if your Dada and I tried to intervene you would move our hands out of the way. Bossy much?

This month we took you to a swim meet at U of I and ohmigod you loved it! You clapped when everyone clapped and you were transfixed by the water. Except you kept calling it “Ahhbow.” I have no idea what the heck that is supposed to mean. But, after the day at the swim meet you pulled out all of our “Swimming World” magazines and flipped the pages and said, “Ahbow! Ahbow!” Apparently it means water? Or pool? But, I think this year will be a good time at the pool for you. You will be a mini Mark Spitz. I want to buy you little baby speedos.

I am just going to mention your mane of hair. That is all I have to say about that. Obviously the photos speak for themselves.



Your guttural rendition of the word “Mama” is oddly flattering to me. You say it like that only in the morning when you are in the crib and you have just woken up. You say, “Maaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmmmma,” just to make sure I hear you and the urgency in your voice. As soon as I get in your room you say, “Juice? Gagools? Up? Elmo?” You must make sure to cover all of your morning routine bases. Your head might explode if we miss something.

I got to experience first hand this month how possessive of me you are. While it is very flattering that you don’t want to share your Mama with everyone, I don’t think acts of violence are necessary. One morning as I was dropping you off at daycare, I had knelt down to fill out your form. All of the kids in your class came over to me, and started touching and asking, “Dat? Dat? Mama?” Well, you could not handle it. First, you tried to climb on me as if that would mark your territory. When the kinds didn’t back away, you turned around, looked at the teeniest tiniest girl in the class, and pushed her. She landed on her butt. On the ground. She didn’t even cry. AS IF YOU’VE DONE THIS BEFORE. I was beside myself! “Abe!!! That is NOT NICE!!” With your blankey in your mouth, you gave me the guiltiest look I had ever seen (well, I have seen Ozzie give me this look.) You knew you were being a bad boy, but you just couldn’t help it.

I was very upset by this. I mean, I don’t want you to be a bully! And, I want you to be a nice boy. Not a meathead. So, all day I worry and worry and worry. And, then, I called your Grandpa (or Rooooooooooooob as you call him) to tell him the story. And you know what he did? He started laughing. He told me, “Welcome to boys.”



So, I guess I have a little bit to learn about little boys. But, let me tell you mister, I will do my best to make you a nice boy. And, just so you know, you don’t have to share me with anyone (well, for right now). But, a well executed dirty look will do wonders.

Love,
Mama