20 Months

Dear Annie,

These months keep slipping by. I am ashamed to say that even yesterday, on your actual 20 month birthday, I had to stop and think about how old you were/are. I am really looking forward to being able to just say, "She's two", without having to stop and do some mental math that comes across to the asker like I don't know how old my child is. But then, when you are two....you will be TWO? And how can that be? I remember seeing two year olds when you were born and they seemed so BIG. And you are both so big and so very little.

You had your first introduction to a play group yesterday. I think I was more nervous for me than for you. Everyone loves you. You love everyone. Except for that little girl that tried to steal your goldfish crackers. You smacked her on the head with your plastic cup. It was more a warning shot than anything, but faced with all the other parents in the room I responded appropriately with the "No hitting, Annie!". I noticed no one told that little girl not to steal food....

It was a fascinating glimpse of your personality. You would walk up to any child playing, exclaim "HIIII!" and try to play with whatever toy they had. Sometimes side by side. Sometimes taking a cup that was part of a tea set. Neither of these scearios was met with a very warm response, but you were undaunted. You climbed, you stacked, you crawled.

You did not sit and sing.

You viewed that time as a free for all on all the coveted toys that had been left unattended by those now occupied with the singing circle and you really went to town. You loved the play dough. Maybe a bit too much. When I told you that you couldn't eat it, you just kept putting it under your nose and smelling it. This made me, and any mother in view of you, very nervous as it's a quick trip from the nose to the mouth. But you were good. And even though this was homemade play dough, I'd like to keep you off the stuff as long as possible. No one wants to be the kid in the class that eats play dough.

You are on the move. You talk so much. I tried one time to count all the words you know now, but there's too many to count. And it's always increasing. You are smart and funny. You are tough and kind. You are learning "I'm sorry" and will often follow it up with a hug.

The hugs slay me.

You are a bit busier than the other girls in the play group. They mostly sat close to their mothers while the moms all chatted about vacation plans and whatever other moms talk about. I tried to get in on the conversation and give you freedom to play, but that simply was not in the cards. You wanted help up, help down, or to play "Are YOUUUU?", which is your own brand of hide and seek. While I don't want to be that Mom that hovers constantly, I also don't want to be the Mom that isn't paying attention.

So I stand and watch. You say "hep peesh" and I tell you you can do it. Sometimes I tell you how but I try not to help too much. I try to show you that you are capable on your own, but that I am here if you need me. And I realize that this is how it will be for the rest of our lives. You wanting to do something, me trying to help, trying to keep you safe, but still wanting you to learn how to do it yourself. I know you know it now, but I hope you know it forever that I am always there with you, rooting you on.

Right now night time is my favorite time. We eat dinner, play a bit, Daddy gives you a bath and I get you in your PJs. Most nights we watch a little bit of a movie, then we go brush our "eee-eees" (teeth) and then you and I go read a book or two. Or the same book two times. Then we shut off the lights and you lay your head on my chest. We say your prayers and then we are quiet. You have started placing my hand on your back to give you a little back scratch as we sit in the dark. Your arms are splayed out in a big hug with your hands around my sides. And we sit and I scratch and you don't squirm and after a few minutes you will announce that you want your bed. Twenty years from now, those moments in the dark are what I want to remember.

I love you, sweet girl.

~Mom.