Dear Eliot: Fifteen Months

Dear Eliot,

It feels strange that I have written you fifteen letters now.  Every time, I struggle with where to start.  Another month.  Times goes by fast, and I can still remember everything about the first time I wrote you a letter at just one month old.

The biggest change this month has been your communication skills.  You make it clear when you want something, when you don't like something, when you are upset, and when you are happy.  You point and have this cute mumble-y voice inflection when you ask for something, whether it is a toy, a drink, or a snack.  It kind of sounds like, "Uh mom nom?" When I offer a toy or food that you don't want, you shake your head and grumble.  With that also comes your expression of dissatisfaction when we aren't playing how you want to or walking in the middle of the road like you want to or whatever it is that you don't like.  Maybe this seems simple, but you are making your desires known.

This month, you decided to stop eating for almost two weeks!  You seemed so upset, clingy, and had an upset tummy.  I didn't know what was going on, but it ended up being your molars cutting in.  They've broken through for the most part, and, man, your dad and I had forgotten how sweet, energetic, and playful you normally were.  You are also back to eating almost everything we give you, which is a big relief.  In fact, you want to try everything that we have.  Because of this, I am really glad that we have continued to try to improve our eating habits so you eat good food too.

You mimic everything we do, especially all that your dad does.  If he is digging in the garden, you dig too.  When he paints, you find something similar to a paint brush and try to paint along with him.  You do very sweet things as well.  When I hold you standing up, I pat your back.  In return, you pat my arm.  Recently, you have started giving big kisses, which I think are so funny.

About a week ago, we took you to your first baseball game.  I don't really like sports much, but we thought you might like it a little.  You pointed and said, "ball," so I think you kind of understood that it was a game with a ball being thrown.  That's all you need to know for now.  We stayed for about an hour before you wanted to climb all over the bleachers.

Eliot, sometimes I don't even know what to make of you and sports.  I swear that you just get it somehow.  Everything to you is a basketball goal, including lamp shades.  The funniest thing happened in Khols.  We were irresponsible parents and let you run around the whole store--while watching you, of course.  You found a ball in the toy section and ran around the store with it.  Then you saw an empty magazine rack, dunked the ball, and ran on your way.  As I said, everything is a basketball goal to you.

What is more boring than baseball, you ask?  Golf.  The Masters was on recently.  Apparently, it inspired your dad, so he brought his golf clubs up from the basement.  He showed you one time how to hit a golf ball and you spent the rest of the night playing golf in the den.  I really didn't think it was a good idea.

Then for Easter we bought you a soccer ball and goal.  I hadn't even finished setting up the goal when you started trying to put the soccer ball in it.  I don't think you have even seen a soccer game, maybe just highlights on tv.  After the goal was put together, we showed you how to kick the ball in.  You are already really good at kicking the ball in the goal, and I think that is more of a "nineteen month" skill from what I have read.  In short, you love sports and you catch on fast.

You are an inquisitive boy and love to explore.  When we put you in new or uncomfortable surroundings, you cling to me for a few minutes, but before I realize what is happening, you take off running around, opening drawers, exploring, and having fun.  You love all things outside.  Picking flowers.  Digging in dirt.  Climbing.  Running down the sidewalk.  And collecting sticks.  Always collecting sticks.  You'd rather be running around outside than playing with any toy inside.  It really is easy to satisfy you.  We just have keep an eye out for sunburn.

Speaking of exploring, your climbing skills have continued to improve.  You half-way get over the baby gates--I should just take them down.  And you can climb on the dining room chairs now too.  One of your favorite places inside is the back of the coach where you climb up to look out the front window with the dogs.

I know you can't tell from pictures as well since your hair is so light, but your hair is growing in quite well.  You have a fuzzy rat tail growing in the back that I keep saying I'm going to cut.  When it is brushed back, it isn't so long and doesn't stick out, so maybe we'll wait a little longer.  You've waited a long time for that hair and it is finally coming in thick.

Sometimes I can't believe how big you have grown.  You are triple your birth weight.  Your length has about doubled since birth.  When you are laying next to me and I hug you close, I think, "Wow.  I can't believe I birthed him."

You're a special little boy to us, Eliot.  I could stare at you for hours.  Even a year and three months after your birth, some things simply don't change.  In other ways, everything changes from day to day.  I know that doesn't make much sense right now.  Your dad and I are always watching you and sighing and saying how much we love you and how cute you are and how much joy you bring us just by being you.  I hope that you never forget that you have always been so incredibly wanted and loved.