Here you'll find current musings, as well as the archives from two blogs of yesteryear: YoungMarriedMom and What I Learned While Writing a Novel. Please comment and share. We love well when we are in conversation with one another.
These last eighteen months have meant about five hundred fifty different ways for me to fall in love with my little boy. A few glances into Jacob’s blossoming personality:
Every day starts with music. I’ve taught him the sign for “music,” but he prefers his own sign—raising his arms in the air and moving his head from side to side. I get this everyday at breakfast.
He’ll dance whether he’s in his high chair or not. He particularly enjoys “shaking his sillies out” and knows the order of the verses of that song. When he’s still got all his sillies inside, he’ll do a “spin move” on command, which involves him walking in two or three close circles, arms in the air, smile on his face. I’ve tried to film this, but he stops dancing and begs for the camera. I’m planning a sneak attack.
He loves songs with hand motions. “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” is a favorite, as is “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes.” I’ve come to understand that certain gestures mean he wants me to sing these songs for him, and when I finish, I always get “Again! Again!”
If there was any doubt he was my child (and there isn’t), it’s quashed now. When I sing him “Under the Sea” from The Little Mermaid, he’s started to sing along. He also sings along with “Don’t Stop Believin’,” his new favorite bedtime song.
Speaking of bedtime songs, up until recently I’d almost exclusively sung him hymns as lullabies. Now I wonder if he thinks “Don’t Stop Believin’” is a hymn. Oops.
He can point to John and say “Dada.” I’ll point to myself and tell him “Mama.” He replies by pointing at himself and repeating “Mama.” Oops again.
He has taken charge of bedtime. When he decides he wants John to put him down, he’ll wave at me to get me to leave his room. When he decides he’s sleepy enough and doesn’t need John anymore, he’ll wave from his crib to get John to leave. He’ll still give us hugs and kisses, so everybody wins.
Eighteen months old, and he is still one of the happiest and most relaxed people I know. He gets upset when we break from routine, but only because he so enjoys keeping up with what happens next. When I talk to him these days, I can’t help quoting Abilene from The Help: “You is smart. You is kind. You is important.”