Yep, I'm late with this letter again. My apologies. Looks like I've fallen off the mommy-blogging wagon.
Not that I was ever really on it. I'm not sure that writing you a monthly update really counts. But, I digress...
You turned 14 months old on March 21st, and this month, I can't think of a good excuse as to why this letter is late. I mean, we've been busy, don't get me wrong, YOU keep me busy, but as far as a specific reason, I'm at a loss.
Maybe it's because you're walking now and all I do ALL DAY LONG is watch you like a hawk and say things like; "Watch your step!", "Be careful!", and "Slow down!"
Or, maybe it's because you're weaned now and all I do ALL DAY LONG is feed you. I swear, it seems like you eat every hour, on the hour. (Wait, who am I kidding? I eat every hour too!)
You really do love to eat, and you've recently discovered the joy of using a spoon. You're not proficient yet, but you do quite well with hand over hand assistance.
Come to think of it, maybe this letter is late because I went out of town earlier this month for 3 days and it took you a full week to recover from the abandonment. Seriously, you whined and fussed and cried for a week after I returned.
Your motive? To be held, I think. So, what did I do? I held you and kissed you and squeezed you and then smothered you in mayonnaise and ate you up!
Then again, maybe this letter is late because we're all sleepy heads up in here. I don't know why, but you've been sleeping in 'til 7:00 or so. That's twelve hours a night, buddy! Plus two naps during the day! Granted, I haven't been napping when you nap, but apparently I haven't been writing this letter either.
Nope, no naps for me. Instead I make the bed, wash the dishes, fold the laundry, prepare your hundredth snack of the day, work out, wash my face, brush my teeth, return phone calls, and sometimes...sometimes I get online and relax with a cup of coffee. Because when you wake up, it's all systems go!
Foster, you are busy with a capital 'B'! But, such a pleasure. Sure, some days are harder than others and on those days, as soon as your daddy walks through the door, I toss you into his arms like a hot potato!
Those are the days that I have had it up to here with the fussing. And, my guess is that you've had it up to there with my not understanding what you're trying to say.
Sometimes when you're saying something that I don't understand, you'll start to fidget with your hands, as if you're fumbling for the sign to use. It's so sweet, but so sad. You know that if you use a sign, I usually understand what you're saying, so you're trying your hardest to get it through my thick skull. I'm sorry, buddy, and I'm doing my best to teach you every sign I can think of. Bear with me.
Other days, however, are simply delightful and we spend time outside with the birds and the rocks and the leaves and the sticks and the pine cones and the flowers..."wa-wer" is how you say flower. It's adorable, I tell ya. Adorable.
Your favorite thing to do is go for strolls around our neighborhood. In fact, you try to say "stroller" and "walk"...just two of your over fifty words. Sometimes, though, we just can't go for a walk right now and when I explain that to you, you throw a little "snitzy". That's what your grandma calls a temper tantrum. I just ignore it and before you know it, the snitzy is over and I'm able to distract you with something else.
Meanwhile, your attachment to Bear-Bear is waning and we're able to function without him. You are funny, though, because you quickly get attached to one thing or another and have to carry it around with you AT ALL TIMES.
This week, for example, it's been a flashlight, lint roller, key and tampon. Yes, I just said tampon. You think they're awesome! I caught you with your arm through the box and every single one of them scattered all over the floor. You were having a blast and I've quickly learned that if it can't hurt you, it's worth the mess!
You don't carry those items around all at once, of course, but sometimes you do carry two at a time.
That's how you play. You don't just sit and play with a toy. No, instead you pick up a toy (or two) and walk around the house with it. Telling me what it is. Banging it on the table, the door, the floor. I can't imagine how many calories you burn in a day.
I hope you grow out of this attachment phase within the next six months, though, because we've decided to enroll you in a Mother's Day Out preschool program this fall and they don't allow you to bring your own toys unless it's for Show n' Tell. I'm sure they'd be thrilled with you showing and telling the class all about your mama's tampons!
You'll be 20 months old by then and I think you'll really enjoy it. You're already at the point where we have to get out of the house at least once a day, preferably twice.
Publix is one of your favorite places to go. You sit in one of those carts shaped like a car, facing away from me, with a hand on each wheel (sometimes a hand on one wheel and a foot on the other!) and drive through the store. All the while shouting "car!" at every other shopper. When we're all done, the cashier and bagger tell you bye, and you yell back, "bye-bye!" I expect you all to be on a first name basis pretty soon.
Yesterday the weather here in Nashville was so wonderful that we went to the park THREE times! You are the funniest kid there. Walking around, pointing at the other kids and yelling, "baby!, baby!, baby!"
Foster, YOU'RE a baby! Even if you do know how to turn the TV off and on!
Today is your daddy's and my sixth wedding anniversary. Yes, we waited a while to have you.
We always knew we wanted children, but we wanted time to ourselves first. Time to travel, time to work on our historic home, time to sleep in, and time to dream.
We had lots of dreams about you, but we never imagined you would be as wonderful as you are. Our red headed little boy. Equal parts sweet and sassy. Rough and tumble. Smart and sensitive. I like to think you inherited the best parts of each of us.
May the next six years be full of happy memories for you. May our marriage be all that it can be, so that your childhood is all that it should be.
"The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family." ~Thomas Jefferson