Monday, August 17, 2009

Briefing: 18 Months

Dear Hayden,
Goodness gracious little girl! You are 18 months old and I can not believe it, I mean, I do, but it just doesn't seem right. I've said it before and I will say it again, time flies (even faster) after you have a baby. Six months feels like three months, a year feels like six months, a year and a half, well, you get the idea. I'm blown away by the fact that you have been in our lives for 18 gloriously hard, fabulously sweet, superbly splendid months (five hundred and forty days, or thereabout).

Let's see...
You fart, and then laugh out loud about doing so. You are proud, proud I say, of the vibration and smell that your asshole puts out. I laugh out loud too. What? Is that bad?

You whine, God, you whine. Frustration from a lack of communication (in the form of spoken word) could be the cause. Or, perhaps you are just pulling the same shit every 18 month old pulls. I'll whine, see if I get my way. See if they'll give me what I want just so I'll shut my pie hole. Your daddy and I almost never cave, I say almost because...

You scream, squeal, yell, holler, and a bunch of other things that relate to screaming, squealing, yelling, hollering...sometimes this makes us cave, crumble and cry...mercy.

You do say things, things like pup pup, train, train track, truck, daddy's truck, hot, chalk, turkey and you even speak a bit of and momento are your new favorite words. Of course you still say all the other words I mentioned here. Basically, you repeat the end of every sentence that comes from our mouths. Which is great and worrisome at the same time.

Caelie is one of our rottweilers and she is a real bitch. She is extremely vocal and makes it difficult to play catch with Aksel who shares her run. I was complaining to your daddy about what a bitch she is, saying man, Caelie is a bitch! Immediately you say "bit". Immediately I feel proud, because I cuss (unfortunately too much at times) and you, tree.. Nevertheless, your first cuss word was bitch, worth documenting for sure.

You try to jump, well, you do jump, but you try to play hopscotch. Last week I drew a hopscotch pattern on the sidewalk and you watched me with glee while I jumped. You then tried to do it yourself but couldn't because you were laughing too hard at me and...

...eating chalk.

You kick, on command, a ball. You kick me when I do the unthinkable and change your diaper.

You daddy looked at me yesterday, after being home with you all day, and said, "She is an asskicker." I concurred. We agreed that you go and go and go and Hayden, you go a lot.

Perhaps, your most favorite thing to do, beyond riding the 4-wheeler (you will drop whatever it is you are doing if the word ride even forms on our tongues) is to play in my car. Many mornings I leave for work to the sound of windshield wipers, a blinker, static of the radio, cold air blasting, you name it. You've successfully turned my car into your own private playground.

Your daddy and I took you in for your 18 month check-up and were pleasantly surprised at the turn around in your behavior from the last visit. The last visit was pure hell to say the least. We went for this check-up hoping we would be in and out seeing how they knew we were coming there on this day three months ago, we figured they would have your two vaccinations at the ready. We were wrong. Two hours after we arrived we departed, and with the following information:

Height: 32"
Weight: 23lbs
BMI: 16
Head Circumference: 18.75" (to be exact)

Later that day we caught you standing against your height chart in your bedroom. You had your back against the wall and your head turned around trying to see how tall you were. Lord, you are cute.

And just about, no, you are, the sweetest thing going around these parts.

On the 18th of this month you turned 18 months old. Your cousin, Isaiah (your best friend), turned 1 year old. The two of you are a sight. If I didn't know better I'd think the two of you escaped from a nudist colony for young'uns. I absolutely love the two of you together. I love that you have a friend in Isaiah and that the two of you are growing up side by side.

On a much heavier note...a short story.
Let's see, you must have been about 10 months old. You were asleep in your own room, your daddy and I were hanging out on the front porch with my cousin, Dustin. I went in the house to get a drink and heard you whimpering. Your daddy heard you too and went in to get you. Dustin had walked into the kitchen with me. As we were walking back to the porch we crossed paths with you and your daddy. You raised your pretty head up and focused on me and grinned, you then looked to Dustin and your grin faded. Your lip took forever to curl, your nose slowly wrinkled, you'd have thought time slowed down by how long it took for you to work up to a cry, then a scream. Prime time for stranger anxiety. Your reaction was amusing, to us of course. You were highly pissed that we let a stranger (to you) in our house late at night.

Dustin passed away on August 9th, nine days before you turned 18 months old. Luckily, you warmed up to him after that first night. Luckily, you and I both were home one evening about two weeks before he left and we got to see his blue eyes and smiling face one last time. You waved at him and I told him I loved him. Little did we know that we would not see him again, your great grandmother and my cousin Cliff would see him first.

I know you will not remember him so I am giving you these pictures.

The second photo is of Dustin with his mama, your great aunt, Myra. She is a wonderful woman and loves you dearly. My deepest hope is that your daddy and I never feel the pain that she is enduring as I write this to you. We do not know what tomorrow will bring. May you have many, many tomorrows, Hayden, and may they bring whatever it may be you want them to bring.

I started writing this letter to you eight days ago. Time, unfortunately, will not stand still. My work takes up more time than I want it to. Finding the time I need to write to you is difficult but I must do so. In between writing I think of so many things I want to say. All are about how much love I have for you, how precious you truly are to me. How beautiful your face is, how your hair curls and is starting to hang randomly in ringlets. I want to remember the dirt under your fingernails and on your feet, how damn tough you are, and you are. Just the other day a fire ant bit you, of course you cried. For two whole minutes. A fire ant bit me a while back and I moaned about it for days. Just ask your daddy.

I always feel like I am forgetting something when writing to you. So many little things happen that I let slide from my mind. There will never be time to document them all, not that I would want to. Some things are best left in the moment.

I've been asking you to guess what for some time now, because it gets a rise out of you, a smile.

Guess what, guess what...I ask.

You smile.

I love you...I say.

Soon you will be telling me you love me.

And I can't wait. I know you do but the words will be simply the sweetest coming from you.


1 comment:

connie said...