Camden,
A lot has changed this month. I feel like you are experiencing sound for the 1st time. The vacuum now scares you and never did before, could it be you didn't hear it as loudly before? Since your ear tube surgery on 10/25 your vocabulary has gone from roughly 3 hard to understand words, (kitty, mama, dada) to much more . . . juice, kiss, mammy, up, get it, banana, kitty cat, and my personal favorite . . . DON'T! You make up for the loud DON'T with the new slobbery kisses you lavish us with. You are also officially walking. Maybe because you don't feel so dizzy with all that fluid out of your ears. You also like to "talk" on the phone and recognize when I am talking to Daddy or the voices of Auntie Erin and Grammy and Papa. You absolutely love the new Little People school bus that Dan and Michelle sent for your birthday. You load it up with as much as you can, balls, blocks, old cells phones and off you drive, scooting on one knee.
Sometimes, rarely, I lay on the floor in the hallway so when you come around the corner I am face to face with you. You usually giggle and shriek and then drive right past me. You are too busy for the crazy lady laying on the cold tile. And then suddenly I realized how you feel in those moments when I'm cooking diner, and you want grapes. When I'm doing laundry and you want attention, Or how about the dishes that get half way done before you tug so hard on my pants I've invested in a new belt. You tug on my legs and stand between my knees and whimper and gaze at me with those blue eyes. You open and shut your little hands and say, UP! UP! UP! over and over and I'm reminded of this poem. . .
Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth
empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
hang out the washing and butter the bread,
sew on a button and make up a bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery blissfully rocking.
Oh, I've grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishing are waiting and bills are past due
(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
and out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
but I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.
So THIS month, we will play, when you pull on my legs I'll scoop you up and give you raspberries that make you shriek and giggle. I'll lay on the tile floor and wait for you to round the corner, just to watch you push the bus the way you do. That is what I promise you.
Love,
Mama
