Dear "I love to stick my hands in the toilet bowl" Zoe B

Dear Rascal,

Let me tell you a little story. Every night at bedtime, we put on some soft music and crawl into our big king-sized bed and read a few books together. Tonight, I got cued up the music and grabbed "Time for Bed" and "Oh What a Busy Day" and I sat you down next to me on the bed. You looked up at me and snickered, grabbed the book out of my hand, flipped over, slid off the bed and hopped onto your bike and rode off into the bathroom. (What was your bike [read: Fropper] doing there, you ask? You prefer it to most other modes of transport, so it's never far from where you are.) Next thing I know, your hands are in the toilet. THE TOILET. Come on, dude.

I love your rascally side. Probably because I have a rascally side, too. I'm sure when you get older you will hear all kinds of stories about what a rascal I was when I was your age.



You have become such a skilled communicator in the last month or so. You still seem to want nothing to do with the baby sign language, but that's fine because you've got your ways of letting me know how it is. You shake your head no and furrow your brow when you mean no. You say "yeah" when you mean "yes" - who needs sign language when you can say words? Chumps? You don't say much else, but you totally know what we're talking about. If I say, "Want to go night night?", you'll start waving at everyone if you do. If you don't, you'll shake your head no. You're PART OF THE CONVERSATION. It's awesome.



Still no walking. If I say, "Can you stand by yourself?" you will - and you'll kind of lean side to side like you're in a yoga class. You can take a step here and there, but don't seem to be in any hurry to actually walk. Personally, I think this might have to do with the huge task your body is involved in with these mammoth molars that are working their way out. Or, rather, ONE is. It is HUGE in your little mouth - swollen and all reddish. One thing at a time - that's what I say. The only time I really get anxious for you to walk is when you want to get down and explore when we're in dirty restaurants. Whatever. Take your time, sweet thing. No hurry. But if you are riding your Fropper down the aisle when you get married because you never bothered to learn to walk don't think I won't be laughing.



I love you, bean. Every night when I get in bed, I stare at your little face for at least ten minutes. The cheeks just bring it every time.

Love,
MOMMA