Dear North,
Fifteen months we have shared with you and they have been the best of our life.
Our summer has started taking on a predictable routine over the last few weeks. You spend your morning with dad taking walks around the neighborhood touching trees and pointing at the sounds you hear. Afterwards, the two of you play in the living room for awhile. Your father builds lego towers which you destroy with gusto. He pushes trucks along right beside you as you both spit your vroom vroom noises all over the living room. You are most definitely all boy. Although I have caught you wearing my bra around your neck a few times now.
Afternoons are spent with me outside in the swimming pool. My goal is to get you floating on your back by the end of the summer. Initially, you hated laying your head back in the water, so step one was getting you comfortable with water on your head. When we are in the pool playing, I'll casually splash water in your face or dump a small cup of water over your head. The first time I did it, you gave me this look of "mom, what the HELL was that for?" But now, you are barely phased by it at all. In fact, you dump the water over your own head. So we are on to step two: blowing bubbles in the water. The easiest way I could figure how to do this is to do a raspberry into the water, submerging my mouth and nose just under the surface. You squeal at the bubbles and slap the back of my head deeper under water as if that will make more bubbles. You attempt to mimic my raspberry until you're about an inch from the water and then you open your mouth and take a sip of the pool water. Not exactly what I was going for, but I guess swimming makes you thirsty? Step two might take a little longer than I expected!
So far, you're not much of a talker. You still babble and squeal, but there are no real words in the jumble. Everything is still "dadadada" right now. Unless you get upset, in which case you often erupt in the most pitiful "maaaaaamaaaaa!" that's ever ripped my heart right out of my chest. People keep telling me about the vocabulary explosion that's in store for you, but right now you seem to be able to communicate just fine by pointing at objects and making puppy-like whines. Rather than get all freaked out by the monthly baby progress emails I signed up for that have somehow calculated how many words you should be saying at fifteen months, I'm trying to enjoy what are probably the last few quiet days we may have for many years to come.
You seem to be less of a talker and more of a doer though. You don't have time to say cat or point at your nose because you are a very busy thirty inch tall man. There are couches to climb and beer bottles to throw off the deck! How can I expect you to wave hi to me when there are so many tomatoes that need picking? There is no time to learn new words when it is your job to press the power button on the television every thirty seconds. Busy busy busy, you are our son for sure.
Fifteen months we have shared with you and they have been the best of our life.
Our summer has started taking on a predictable routine over the last few weeks. You spend your morning with dad taking walks around the neighborhood touching trees and pointing at the sounds you hear. Afterwards, the two of you play in the living room for awhile. Your father builds lego towers which you destroy with gusto. He pushes trucks along right beside you as you both spit your vroom vroom noises all over the living room. You are most definitely all boy. Although I have caught you wearing my bra around your neck a few times now.
Afternoons are spent with me outside in the swimming pool. My goal is to get you floating on your back by the end of the summer. Initially, you hated laying your head back in the water, so step one was getting you comfortable with water on your head. When we are in the pool playing, I'll casually splash water in your face or dump a small cup of water over your head. The first time I did it, you gave me this look of "mom, what the HELL was that for?" But now, you are barely phased by it at all. In fact, you dump the water over your own head. So we are on to step two: blowing bubbles in the water. The easiest way I could figure how to do this is to do a raspberry into the water, submerging my mouth and nose just under the surface. You squeal at the bubbles and slap the back of my head deeper under water as if that will make more bubbles. You attempt to mimic my raspberry until you're about an inch from the water and then you open your mouth and take a sip of the pool water. Not exactly what I was going for, but I guess swimming makes you thirsty? Step two might take a little longer than I expected!
So far, you're not much of a talker. You still babble and squeal, but there are no real words in the jumble. Everything is still "dadadada" right now. Unless you get upset, in which case you often erupt in the most pitiful "maaaaaamaaaaa!" that's ever ripped my heart right out of my chest. People keep telling me about the vocabulary explosion that's in store for you, but right now you seem to be able to communicate just fine by pointing at objects and making puppy-like whines. Rather than get all freaked out by the monthly baby progress emails I signed up for that have somehow calculated how many words you should be saying at fifteen months, I'm trying to enjoy what are probably the last few quiet days we may have for many years to come.
You seem to be less of a talker and more of a doer though. You don't have time to say cat or point at your nose because you are a very busy thirty inch tall man. There are couches to climb and beer bottles to throw off the deck! How can I expect you to wave hi to me when there are so many tomatoes that need picking? There is no time to learn new words when it is your job to press the power button on the television every thirty seconds. Busy busy busy, you are our son for sure.
