Monthly Archives: March 2010

1 year, 10 months

Dear Shobha,

My oh my.  We are certainly getting closer to the Terrible Twos, aren’t we. 

It is rapidly becoming clear that while you have a very definite idea of what you want, you do not yet have the capability to adequately convey your thoughts into words.  You are, however, quite capable of “speaking” your mind.  I think I’ll let this picture speak for itself:

Now, I’ll admit something here.  I was starting to worry a bit about your meager vocabulary.  I was nervous enough to mention it to your pediatrician, who gave me a number to call if I decide I want to have you evaluated by a Speech Therapist.  Shortly thereafter, you started picking up new words each day. 

I’ll make another admission here.  I have to try harder.  I honestly don’t know if you’ve been trying to say more and I’m just too dense to translate Shobha-ese into English.  Just today though, in a matter of only a few hours, you added ball, bird, bunny and hat to your vocabulary.  And that’s after adding choo-choo yesterday.  Choo-choo is the only one that sounds like it’s supposed to though.  Ball is “bah”, bird is “bir”, hat is “haa” and bunny is “buh.”  At least you tried for bunny.  At your first sight of our neighbor’s bunny this afternoon your face lit up and you proudly declared, “Kitty!”

 As your mother, I am proud to see you developing a love for reading books.  Anyone who has more than a momentary passing knowledge of me knows that I love to read.  I am so delighted to see a blossoming love for books in you.  Everyday you gather up a stack of your favorites and we read the same books together over and over and over.  I’d also like to take this moment to point out that when I say that I devour books, I’m speaking in metaphor, and when I tell you, “Shobha, don’t eat your books!” I’m speaking quite literally.

As you get closer to your second birthday you’ve been pushing the limits of your abilities.  As of right now, every chair at the dining room table, other than the one I’m currently sitting on, is pushed at least three feet away from the table.  Three feet seems to be about the limit.  It takes you long enough to push the chair those three feet that I’m able to, usually, get to you in time to stop you.  If I don’t, you’re liable to push the chair just close enough so that you can climb up on it, reach over to the table, and nearly give me a heart attack thinking you’re going to slip, fall, and knock your teeth out on the edge of the table. 

In that same spirit of exploration, inventiveness and the all around fun of giving your mother a heart attack, you’ve been more and more spirited in your endeavors to learn your boundaries.  Boundaries which are often learned, I might add, by crossing them.  Most are relatively harmless, like your never-ending desire to see what’s on the other side of the bathroom door.  It’s always interesting to see what you’ll try next though, that’s for sure.

Despite all the temper tantrums and the death-defying inquisitiveness that are part and parcel of toddlerhood, there is so much joy in watching you learn and grow.  I love watching you color and read.  I love hearing you laugh just because you heard someone else laugh.  I love having you come around a corner and run right into my arms for a hug.  I love sharing my strawberry Häagen-Dazs with you and listening to your “mmmmm” after each bite.  I just love each and every day of being your mother.



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