Veinte

Dear MR-

Yesterday you turned twenty months old. See, I am only one day late this time. You can attribute this to your old mom feeling better in the nausea department and once again staying up past 8 pm.


I cannot believe that in only four months you will be two years old. I suppose it is time I started accepting reality and the truth that you do indeed get bigger, and fast. This second year has gone by quickly. You pick up new skills and words now like it is old hat, and we can barely keep up with you physically and sometimes mentally. You are becoming capable of mental feats that I really didn't expect to see before your fifth, let alone your second birthday. You have started to procrastinate before your bedtime. You are a smart kid, you know what's coming. So instead of willingly allowing us to trundle you off to sleep, with a hug a kiss and a book, you dawdle. You want to say goodnight to the stars, and check out your books, sometimes you will abandon us all together as we watch the tail of your towel fly out of the room. This isn't play to you, you know that you are avoiding bed time. And for now we let you, because you're awfully cute, but I can tell this logical acuity spells trouble for us down the line.

Here's something else you like to do:

You love cars, and by love I mean you are completely and totally engrossed in all things automobile. You have several hotwheels and a couple of odds and ends cars and trucks you like to play with. By the end of the day you are generally worn out, but you will still pick up your cars and lay yourself down and drive your little autos around on the carpet. Your poor father is at a loss with this love of yours, as he generally defines the difference between cars by their color not their make. Here's hoping your affection doesn't extend much past blue cars and red cars, for his sake.

Happy twenty months kiddo, we love you so very much.