tumbledry

Four Things about Ess

Hi Essie,

It has been so long since I have written to you! I must record a few things here that I fear we will forget:

(1) You have some things right now that make you unreasonably excited. When you are this excited, you’ll sit on the ground, stare at the object of your affection, stick your arms and legs straight out, tiny hands balled into fists, and go “AAAAAAAAH.” You’ll do this until you get to hold the thing, or until it is taken out of your sight. These things include:

You love to select a rock and hold on to it in your little adorable hand for as long as possible. We’ve found rocks in corners, in the bed, in your carseat. Your mom came up to you and said “where’s your rock?” and you immediately plunged your hand underneath where you were sitting in your carseat and held your rock aloft, so proud. It is stunning what you can understand!

Bananas, I don’t know if it is their shape, or color, or you like their flavor, but you have a hard time concentrating on the food at hand in your highchair if you can see that bunch of bananas from where you are sitting. “Dah? Dah. Dah!” You like to say as you point.

And that’s another thing, I forgot to write down that you used to love to point at everything. You’ve kind of phased that out at this point, but you just LOVED to point. Point at this, point at that. My favorite is when you’d wake up from a carseat nap and just immediately point at something the moment your eyes opened. So funny. Your mom says you’d point first, and then figure out what you were pointing at second.

Back to that list: you’ll crawl over to my work bag, and push your hand up under the flap, trying to pull out my iPod. You have a hard time unclipping it, so I’ll hand it to you and you hold it with both hands, like a tiny aluminum sandwich, and repeatedly click the play button. Click, click, click. When you tire of this, you crawl along the floor, iPod in one hand, your sides alternating slap of a hand, hsshh of the metal sliding along the floor. Slap, hsshh, slap, hsshh until I take it away so you don’t scratch the floor and the electronics simultaneously.

Nobody can figure out why you love my shoes. You get overwhelmed when I hand one to you heal first and just yell excitedly, but if you get to see the toe box, you reverently scratch your nails into the soft leather. I think you like the sound? I’m not sure.

Those are the things you love with all your might right now.

(2) Your mom just completed six months of planning, sewing, reserving, inviting, baking and brainstorming to throw you a brilliant first birthday party. There were family and friends and ice cream sundaes and a face painter and little slips for everyone to write predictions of your future on. We’ll open those on your 2nd, 10th, and 18th birthdays, though we have to face it, we’ll probably lose our resolve before then and read them. They’ll be new to you though, I hope. Your mom did all this on her own, working literally day and night, and I’m excited to put up a few of the photos from the party. It was so much fun to make a big fuss about your first birthday. You are so sweet.

(3) You know what no means, but you also think it means we’re playing a game. So, we say no when you are, for example, trying to stand up in a corner that isn’t safe and you smile and see how much you can keep doing. It is extremely hard to say a stern no to you without smiling, but when my dad façade cracks and I crack a smile, I make sure to show you what I mean by picking you up, or guiding your hand, or trying to help you understand. I hope it helps.

(4) Mykala hosted another event for you this past Friday, your actual birthday, and Barb (Nannie), Larry, (Grandpa), Michael (Boppy), Robin (Gami), and aunties Katy and Kourtni were all there to have dinner on the actual day of your birth! Your mom made you your own cake out of foods we know are safe for you. No butter, no added sugar, no dairy. Most kids plunge their hands into these tiny cakes made just for them, and we were prepared for the possibility, with just you in your diaper on a colorful waterproof tablecloth out on the front lawn of our townhome. There you were, up on your dais, about to destroy this delicious cake! But, no. You just delicately removed each sliced banana from the coconut cream on the top, and ate them, one at a time. Then, you were done. I felt so proud of you because I think, somehow, you recognized your mom’s hard work and were loathe to destroy something for no reason.

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