Thursday, February 2, 2012

LETTER TO VIVIENNE.

Dear Vivienne,

Today you are 29 months old.  I need to stop and catch my breath, because writing that sentence just took it away.  It truly feels like yesterday that I was begging for you to come out and join us, and now we can't go two days without a major milestone.  They're so frequent it's almost anti-climatic.  She reads?  Oh, I didn't notice.  What did you say?  Potty trained?  Oh, whatever.  All kidding aside, you are growing up right before me and sometimes I want to scream SLOW THE HELL DOWN, KID.  But instead, I cry a little and my heart feels like it's being sandwiched between something very tight.

As mentioned, you no longer have diapers.  I can't believe how easily you caught on to this idea.  It took all of one day for you to learn the new routine, and you have yet to have had any accidents after that very first day, weeks ago.  It was all a lot harder for me than it was for you.  My emotions while potty training you caught me completely off guard.  That first week I felt very off - like my baby was truly and finally not a baby anymore.  Every time I would see your little bootie "bisquits" without a diaper I would get the oddest feeling in the pit of my stomach.  I felt as if I almost had to get to know you again (silly I know).  You just looked so grown up, and so confident, and so capable.  Have I told you how proud of you I am?  You rocked this one Vivi.
You talk up a storm now, and have started reading your books back to me (you've memorized the pages of your favorites), and it truly astonishes me.  We probably read a total of 2-3 hours a day.  Books are your lifeline.  Sometimes I'm more amazed by your attention span, than the fact that you want to read books that are at grade school level.  Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day?  Child's play to you.  It sure makes the bedtime routine VERY long when you tell me you want to read FIVE books.  I can talk you down to three and throw in some Dr. Seuss, which you adore, and we're good to go.

There are now about 15 "lovies" in your crib, and if any one of them is not present at bedtime all hell breaks loose.  It's as if you have superhuman senses and before your head even hits the pillow, it's "Mr. Fox Mommy!"  I then proceed to make the mad dash through the house to find Mr. Fox until I hear your daddy scream "I got it!" and it's a relay race to get it into your bed as fast as we can.  You do love your buddies.  You feed them your snacks, put them to sleep, sing to them, and make them watch you do everything.  EVERYTHING.  And by "make them", what I really mean is relentlessly asking Mommy or Daddy to hold them while pretending to be them.  Which leads me to something else entirely.

You have the most amazing imagination, Vivienne.  I'll admit right off that sometimes it catches me on an off day, or a tired moment, and I just don't feel like being Doctor Dan the Bandage Man while simultaneously trying to go to the bathroom or make lunch.  But you are persistent my love, and I almost always end up with one hand holding the Doctor Dan book, the other in a pot of pasta, just so you can tell Doctor Dan to watch you shake your hips.  Because you need an audience with everything you do right now, and it's always a character or a lovey or something that is inanimate and that we have to hold.  But I'll let you in on a little secret, Tootie.  I know exactly how your little mind is working -- I know this because I have spent nearly 34 years getting an A+ in the subject of Imagination.  That, and Analyzation.  You are fast becoming a master at both.  And this is the part where I describe how your Dad can frequently be found running to the backyard with a bottle of Prohibition and a shot of whiskey.

Your imagination is the sweetest thing I have ever witnessed.  You are constantly thinking and working things out.  If we explain a process to you, you explain it back to us five different ways, until you are satisfied that we understand that YOU understand.  It's beautiful and hilarious and just so damn genetic.

You just started soccer.  It's not competitive at your age, but it's super fun to see you run around in the grass and kick balls in the net.  The little uniform is also adorable on you.  Your whole face lights up when you run down the little lane and kick the ball into the net.  You have to wait in a line for this exercise which can be hard for you.  Today after you scored your goal for the third time in a row you turned to me with the biggest grin and proclaimed "I did it Mommy, look!!" and the pride I felt was palpable.

Vivienne, most of the time I go through the day knowing that I am a Mommy and that I do the best I can to make sure you are safe, fed, and loved.  I think to myself, this is what you do now, you are a Mommy.  But then there are those moments like today as you were running around in the grass in your little soccer uniform and my heart is going to burst and I think to myself, Wow!  You're a Mommy.  You really are.  I was so proud of how great you felt about yourself, and we're only two years in! 

Just imagine the moments that lie ahead of us. 

Love,
Mommy

1 comment:

  1. Your paean to Vivienne is absolutely beautiful. I'm here because you turn up as a follower of my blog. Have you been there recently? Do you know about my book? Check it out at http://theobsessivechef.blogspot.com

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