Month Thirty-One

Boogie, the day you turned 31 months we rang in an historic moment with mimosas for me, Nana and Granny, and you had OJ in your sippy. We watched the inauguration of President Barak H. Obama, the first African American president of this country. On election night a few months back you sat on the couch with me enthralled by his acceptance speech, and once again I am thrilled to have shared this momentous occasion with you. We cheered, clinked glasses, and you periodically yelled "Obama!" while watching the TV with a huge smile on your face. I know you won't remember that day, but know that you were there, you watched it live, and you were just as juiced as the rest of the world.

Speaking of TV, I want you to thank your sister for one thing, if nothing else: she made you a normal kid. Before she was born, I was stringent with TV. Most days you didn't see it at all unless I was sick or too tired, and then it was educational videos, cartoons set to kids songs, or Jackson's birthday. Now, you're getting around 45 minutes a day, still educational but a lot of the same Dora the Explorer episodes as well (which you know all the words to) so that I can have time to cook dinner or deal with your crying sister without you feeling neglected. I'm not happy about it, but I realized yesterday that I'm trying to do too much, trying to do it all and do it perfectly, and you are suffering. So there you go. Zoraya loosened the cable strings and now you'll be able to discuss non-violent educational cartoons with your friends at school. Say thank you. :)

I'm glad we didn't sign you up for gymnastics this month. It's January, but it's been 70 degrees for weeks so we've been able to go to the park, and play outside, take a few walks, and enjoy the beautiful unseasonal weather. And today it's raining so I put a video on for you so I could write you letter.

You are going through a rough transition right now, from a toddler to a preschooler and attempting to assert your independence. I am trying to help you explore your autonomy while maintaining mt sanity, and it's a hard balancing act but I think we're doing okay. It's funny though because you pretty much refuse to do anything I ask unless it involves someone else. You'll put Papa's shoes away, but not your own. You'll bring me a diaper to change Zoraya, but not when I need to change yours. And you'll eat food off my and your Papa's plate, but not what's on your own. So okay, I'm hoping this phase ends soon, but it's still fascinating to watch you go through it. So this month, my wish for you is that you remain fiercely independent but still have a kind heart, that you assert yourself but not to infringe on or hurt others, that you know clearly what you want and you go after it, but don't beat anyone else down to get there. We've been trying to perfect this for generations, and I have high hopes that you will be the first to achieve that balance.

I haven't talked much about your stature recently, because you haven't been to the doctor in months. You're getting tall, about 34 inches but are still a beanpole at a touch over 25 lbs. Girth-wise, you still fit into 18-24 month clothes and a size 4 diaper, but height-wise you're pushing up into 3T. And you are still one of the most stunning children I have ever seen. Everywhere we go people are commenting that you are so beautiful, and I'm trying to teach you to respond "Thank you, I'm smart too" so that you will learn that looks are not everything, but I have to be honest that you are absolutely gorgeous... and you know it.

You've also been a dancing queen again, stripping off all your clothes, turning on the radio and shaking your scrawny little butt to whatever comes on. I'm going to film you one day and hold it hostage to make sure I get into a nice retirment community.

I love you,
Mama