Dear Monkey,

Here we are. I can’t believe 32.3 months have gone by.

You’re finally crawling. At 32.3 months of age, you’re crawling.

Yes, you’re often found crawling around saying, in an uncharacteristically low voice, “Iiiiiii’m a caaaaterpillar.” This makes your gym teachers laugh but we’d all like it if you’d GET UP OFF THE DANG FLOOR AND GIT WITH THE PROGRAM. Your father and I are very proud.

You love TV. I’ve been using it as one of many bribes to get you to pee in the toilet.

You won’t even pee in the toilet for TV: “I pee on the floor, Maaama! I pee on the floor!”

Other than that, you’re a big girl now. You’re asserting your independence at every turn.

In the bathtub with your brother, you enjoy screeching until I cry he cries.

You stomp in the mud in your brand new shoes. And, you’re so proud of yourself: “Look Mama! I’m in the mud! I’m in the mud, Maaaama!”

You brush my hair with your little princess brush, even as I beg you to stop: “CRY, Maaaaama! CRY!”

You continue to slap my belly and call me “Big Mama.” But, it’s not as fun as it used to be because I now pretend to love it: “That’s right, Monkey,” I say, “BIG and BEAUTIFUL. BIG MAMA BIG MAMA BIG MAMA.”

You used to hate getting a speck of paint on yourself. Now, you actually paint yourself: “Look, Maaaama! I pain’ myself! I’m a TIGER! ROAR!!!”

You’re also REALLY loving your cats. You constantly pull on Minden’s tail: “Look, Maaaaaama! I pulling Minnen’s tail!” And, just today, you were giving Tigger a bath by dipping your toy camera (which, G-d help us all, better not be ruined now) into her water bowl and then rubbing all it all over her…. !@#$#$&*@$!#!! You then dragged her wet-sheddy-cat-arse all over the kitchen. BY her tail. It was fabulous.

You don’t eat at all, really. ‘Cept cookies. Or, (oftentimes) whatever’s on MY plate: “I WAAAAAAN IT!”

Yes, you are a cheaty, CHEATY, little monkey. And, as much as I LOVE you for it, I don’t always have the energy, the patience, or the stamina to respond to your cheatiness the way I’d like. As it is, I’m getting virtually NO sleep because of your cheaty little brother. I’m spun. Totally spun. And, you are constantly calling me out of my already-whirling wind with your MESSY, MESSY, BUTTON-PUSHING MISCHIEF.

You push my buttons. And, you do it all the live-long day. Why? Is it because you want ALL the attention? Is it because you’re testing your boundaries? Is it because you HATE YOUR MAMA!? Is it because you’re scared? You’re scared of a lot of things….

I protect you.

No matter what, my baby girl, I love you. And, I love EVERYTHING about you. So, you could be a little lower maintenance. I don’t care. You’re you. And, you’re freakin’ special.

Love,

Big Mama

[25] Comments