To Stella, sixteen months old

Dear Tic Tac,

I thought I would begin by reviewing some of the nicknames that you have acquired by me and Daddy in the sixteen months since you have been with us. Tic Tac is a new one as of this morning. We were all lying in bed (two of us attempting to get a few extra minutes of sleep) when you suddenly pointed to a photograph on the bureau and exclaimed "Dada. Mama." We asked you who else was in the picture and you confidently proclaimed "Tic Tac". Somehow it seemed like a fitting moniker and thus, a nickname was born. We'll see if it sticks. Just for the record, some of our other favorites (you'll have to ask Daddy to exlplain their origins to you at a later date): Belzy, Bernice, Bernie Telser, Senor Belzer and Bear.

While my worst Mommy moment occured this month, it has also been a month of parenting bliss. You blow my mind everyday with the rate at which you are learning new words and concepts and by how your little personality is emerging. I like you. But before we get to all that and to all the fun things we did together I have to write about the scary events of last Friday.

I gave Ranny the day off so you and I could be alone together. We had planned to see your new friend Simon (or "Timon" as you like to call him) and his mommy, to maybe go to the Museum of Natural History where I know you are going to enjoy seeing the Butterfly exhibit and running around the whale carcuses and all that. We were all ready to go when I took you into the kitchen to pack your snacks. You continue to be really resistant to my putting you down on the ground and so I've taken to depositing you on the counter from time to time as you will sit there very happily. I never stray far, of course, and you have always been perfectly safe (except that one time but never mind about that). On Friday, we were re-enacting this familiar scene: you sitting on the counter and me standing beside you going through the diaper bag making sure I had all the essentials. When suddenly, without warning, you were lying on the tile floor on top of a broken carafe of hot coffee screaming your little heart out. I grabbed you up and ran into the bathroom where I put you, complete with your clothes and shoes, into the bathtub and ran the water. I took your shirt off and put cool water over your back. I was uncharacteristically cool and level-headed, I think actually in a state of shock. After a few minutes I picked you up and held you, you calmed down, and I canceled our plans with Simon and Veronica. I then noticed that your arm was blistering. I thought that you had burned your back on the floor but, in fact, I think what happened is that you reached out and burned your arm on the coffee pot and then threw it to the ground and fell of the counter nto the broken glass and coffee. It sounds complicated but I swear it all happened in less than one second. I called the doctor and Grandma (who fortunately had a long break in the middle of the day and was able to come over) and started shaking and crying. I guess the adrenaline wore off. I just held you and apologized over and over but I don't think you were really mad at me. It was really helpful to have Grandma come over. Just like you, I needed my mommy to take care of me because I was sad.

Daddy and I learned from the doctor what to put on your arm and you were a really good patient and it is all healing very nicely. But it was really difficult and scary and I felt so horrible about my careless stupidity. You were also still sick with a cough and a runny nose and were just feeling lousy and I couldn't really tell what was burn pain and what was general cold stuff. We had a hard couple days leading up to Christmas. Over the weekend you wanted to be held a lot and I happily indulged you. You ended up developing a slight fever (we almost didn't go to Grandma and Grandpa's on Christmas Eve) and spent hours resting in my arms with your head on my shoulder. I felt so sad that you didn't feel well but it was also nice to get to hold you so much and to know that I was a good comfort.











This month was also filled with good times. You had a lot of fun in the beginning of December when we went up to Massachusettes to see Daddy's family. Naturally, you loved lighting the menorah once we got to "Haka" which is what you call the Festival of Lights. It's been really cool having a tree in our living room and you were particularly excited by the strings of Christmas lights which you helped Daddy put on the tree. Um, is "help" the right word, Dad?






















Even though you were a little bit sick, you were very excited to open some presents at Grandma and Grandpa's. You loved your little rocket car thing right up until the moment when Clara got her big girl bicycle which I think you liked a little bit more.

In the past month or so you have developed a downright obsession with the book Caps for Sale. Daddy and I love how much you love books. Reading is by far your favorite activity. But seriously I was starting to go mad reading "Caps" (as you call it) twelve, sixteen, eighteen times a day. So I decided for Christmas I would get me - I mean you - a few new books to see if we could find another one that would work its way into your heart. I selected The Very Hungry Caterpiller (because you love Eric Carle's book about the rubber ducks), Olivia and Llama Llama Red Pajama. I am proud and pleased to announce that you no longer ask us to read "Caps" very often. "Capila" is the new favorite. I love reading this to you because it is an interactive experience. I will say "On Monday he ate one---" and you will call out "Apple". On Tuesday he ate two -- "Pears".

Another thing you have started doing this month is pushing your little step stool around the house so you can reach things (or come closer to it anyway). We will all be playing in the living room and suddenly you will say "ladder. ladder. ladder" which means you need your step. Then you will run into your room for it and return pushing it around as though it were on wheels. While this enables you to reach some things that you might be better off remaining four inches away from, it is very resourceful so we've got to hand it to you.

You continue to talk frequently about "Pa Paul" and "fire" and I suspect that part of the way Grandpa Paul has worked his way so deeply into your heart is by teaching you how to make a fire, blow out a match, etc. This is not my first choice playtime activity for you but there is no denying that you love doing it. Within three minutes of walking into Grandma and Grandpa's house, you will be bringing Grandpa a log and dragging him over to the fireplace. You know what you want.














You have been waking up at 5am the past few days so Daddy and I have been bringing you into bed with us hoping against hope that we can eke out a little extra shuteye. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. The other day I was lying next to you with my eyes closed trying to make you think I was asleep as though it might give you the idea to try it as well. After a couple minutes I opened my eyes to see what you were up to. There you were lying still staring back at me. As soon as my eyes opened you flashed a giant smile and shouted "hi". It was impossible not to laugh and almost made me want to get up in the dark of dawn and start playing.

Love,
Mama

Kindly Explain

We are truly lucky to have the luxury of nearby grandparents who are not only willing to watch our little girl from time to time but would happily buy her from us if the price was right. And, in fact, I'm fairly certain they have sat around in the dark of the night contemplating whether or not we would suspect them if Stella suddenly went missing. Unlike many of our friends with kids who have never had a night out, we have been able to carry on as though nothing were different. And if you believe that, perhaps you would like to buy a bottle of this guaranteed-to-have your-baby-sleeping-uninterrupted-from-7-to-7-through-the-night bottled water. But seriously, we love being so close to my parents (don't we, Honey?) and I am so thrilled that Stella already knows them so well. When the husband and I fantasize about moving to some less crowded, quiet place, the conversation always terminates in my acknowledging that I couldn't actually leave what is and has always been my home. At least while my parents and brother, sister-in-law, niece and grandma are all here. But the thing about leaving your child with someone else (even a blood relative) is that you have to accept how that alien outsider is going to affect and influence your child.

Last weekend we dropped our precious, perfect little angel off with Grandma and Papa Paul for a few hours and when we came to pick her up she had a new little friend named Elmo. My mother was very proud and excited about this. However, I had harbored a secret desire to see how long I could keep Stella from even identifying the little guy. Mom didn't know this, though, and so she introduced them. She thought it was really cute to hear Stella say "Elmo" which it kind of is. But it is also cute to hear her say "car" and "up" and "mama" and pretty much any other word that comes out of her mouth. So far, Stella has not become super-obsessed by Elmo like many other kids I've seen out there but, the other day, she looked down at an imitation goldfish cracker I had gotten at Whole Foods that she was clutching in her hand and said "Elmo". I gently corrected my daughter informing her that, in fact, the cracker was shaped like another Sesame Street resident, Big Bird. But then, upon closer inspection I discovered that the little orange snackfood was, indeed, Elmo. I guess I took it for granted that, since Big Bird was on the box, Big Bird was in the box. Seriously, these crackers bear as little resemblance to Elmo as possible while still being Elmo. Somehow Stella put together that the red monster with the high pitched voice had been shrunk and dyed and transformed and was now a tasty explosion of crunchy cheeseness. How did she do this? What is it about Elmo's essence that is so recognizable to little toddlers? Sometimes it seems Stella doesn't quite recognize me but after a couple hours at Grandma and Grandpa's, Elmo is burned in her brain.

The Day The Blog Was Re-Born

It has come to my attention that from time to time random folk are stumbling upon this blog. While this development is somewhat alarming, it has also prompted me to consider writing with a bit more frequency and not confining my updates to Stella monthlies. I've always thought of this as something that our out of town family could check in with periodically and even more as a chronicle for Stella, something that she could look at in the future when she will, perhaps, be narcissistically obsessed with what she was like growing up. And that growing up thing, by the way, she is doing with alarming alacrity. But now that I know that it is being read by others, my own narcissistic vanity is getting the better of me and I'm thinking of writing a bit more frequently. While this is all still mostly for Stella, I'm interested to see where it takes me. This entry is kind of maybe a new beginning.

And to commemorate this occasion, I will share with you some observations about yesterday's visit with Stella to Santaland. Santaland is much easier to get to than the North Pole and yet, like the North Pole is a place where Santa apparently lives. In fact, not just one Santa. Many many many Santas. And just where is this magical land of Santas? Santaland, for all you inquiring minds, is on the eighth floor of Macy's. And Macy's is a mere subway ride from our home. While my 15 1/2 month old daughter has no idea who old SC is and, indeed, the very notion of Christmas, Yule Cheer and the like have not yet been crammed down her unsuspecting throat, I thought it'd be fun to take her for a visit to the bearded fellow in the big red suit.

We actually had a great time, arriving at an hour when the crowds were non-existent. I had intended to get there as close to opening time as possible - read: 8am. But you know what they say God does when you make plans? Like it is possible to get anywhere with a toddler at that hour. We'd have to wake up at 4am just to have enough time to put Stella's shoes on and get out the door. So our actual time of arrival was about 10:15am. Still, no crowds. We walked through the little village with the toy trains and dancing bears set up, no doubt, to give the kids something to look at while they wait on an endless line to meet Kris Kringle. In our case, however, all of this was just fodder for Stella to point and grunt at. "Ooo ooo ooo" she said arm outstretched in sheer amazement. Translation: "Hey Mom, look at those reindeer. Look at that train going round and round and round. what are those bears doing bouncing up and down? Damn that's cool." Eventually we made our way through Santaland and were greeted by a kindly elf who asked Stella's name and then led us to a little house - one of many - saying "Santa, Stella is here to see you." And lo and behold there he was, a thirty year old fellow in a Santa costume. Another elf snapped a few quick pictures and we were whisked away where shortly thereafter, I was suckered into spending $25 to get a CD of the lousy pictures that were taken. For why else even visit Santaland with a 15 month old but to get a picture of the adventure.

It was all actually really fun because I've got a really fun kid but, man, what a racket they've got going on at Macy's.

To Stella, fifteen months and twelve days old

Dear Stella,

The best part about the past six weeks is all the time we have spent together as a family. Daddy has been around the whole weekend every weekend and we are having a great time.













We have spent lots of time running around the playground, eating muffins from Georgia's or Le Pain Quotidien, and visiting Grandma and Grandpa. One weekend we went to the Central Park Zoo where you had a great time feeding goats and sheep and other four legged creatures.













After awhile you became overwhelmingly tired. You have begun to let us know that you need some sleep by repeatedly demanding your pacifier. We can tell this is what you are after because you say over and over with increasing urgency "pa. pa. pa. Pa. pA. PA. PA! PA! PA! PA!" until you are happily sucking away. On this lovely Saturday, however, Daddy and I made the fatal error of forgetting to bring a pacifier along. Thus, after a three mile walk through the park to the zoo and a lovely jaunt around said premises, we were forced to exit the park and walk east until we found a pharmacy. As we frantically searched the neighborhood, you, with tears streaming from your eyes, continually shouted "pa pa pa". Dad and I couldn't help but notice that we were no longer the kind of people who slept late on the weekends waking only to read the paper over a leisurely brunch before lazing around in bed the rest of the day. Finally, on Lexington Avenue we reached Mecca. Within seconds of our getting that little pink plastic crack pipe into your mouth, you were dead asleep.

You are obsessed with bags. Sometimes you carry as many as three at once.











The other day you didn't want me to leave you so we went into my closet and picked out a special sparkly, gold bag for you to play with. I do that sometimes when you don't want me to leave - give you something special of mine that you can keep with you all day when I can't be there. You and I have developed quite a bond. Sometimes when it is time for me to go in the morning, you throw your little arms around my neck and say "mama, mama" and I can't possibly part from you. Every once in awhile when you and I are alone you cry hysterically if I put you down even for a second. This can be a challenge when I have to get dressed or am cutting vegetables for your lunch. Last week you had what I think we can call your first full-fledged tantrum as I tried to get a few last minute things done and get you dressed to go outside.

In the event that you are interested in charting your growth and weight gain, at your doctor's appointment on November 9, you weighed in at 20.5 lbs and, I think, 30.5 inches. You also got your first vaccinations and were tested for anemia and lead. Like your grandmother and mother before you, you are ever so slightly anemic.

One of the ways I can really chart how much you have grown and changed recently is by your participation in music class. In general, you are much more into it now. You go and get the instruments as they are being passed out and are good about putting them away when it is time to do that. You do the hand gestures that go along with some of the songs. At home you sometimes ask me to sing a certain song by putting your two little hands in the air and making little chirping birds with them. You can also turn your cd player on and off yourself. You love the piano and are a huge fan of playing ball with your dad. The other day you went and got a ball then came into our bedroom, went up to Dad and said "ball. ball. ball." He was so happy and immediately went with you into the living room to play. We couldn't help but notice that you are a little bit like a puppy sometimes. Cuddly and soft, you follow us around the house and only want to play. Unlike a puppy, however, you have recently become quite adept at guiding your spoon from the bowl into your mouth. Watching you take on this challenge has made me marvel at how frequently most adults hit the mark. It really is tricky.












You laugh hysterically and often. Last night at dinner, you climbed out of your high chair and walked across the table over to me and crawled into my lap. You then proceeded to laugh uncontrollably while pointing at your father. We weren't sure what was so funny but Daddy and I laughed right along with you and then our hearts leapt out of our chests and burst into a thousand pieces.

One day recently as you were drifting off for your nap, I was holding you in the rocking chair and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my cheeks. I just was so overwhelmed by how much I love you and by how incredible it is to simply hold your peaceful, sleeping body. I held you a little longer than usual that day, my arms wrapped around you, your head resting against my chest. I listened to you breathe and sleep and wished we could stay just like that forever.

Love,
Mama