To Stella, seventeen months old

Dear Stella,

Perhaps the biggest change in the past month occurred within me. You see, after seventeen months during which cleaning your room meant shoving all your toys into a big heap in the corner, this month I finally managed to order a shelving system that neatly houses your musical instruments, puzzles, books, dolls and other assorted playthings. You will notice that I call this splendid wall unit a shelving system. Evidently you call it a ladder.


















This is not surprising since you seem to call anything that might possibly give you a couple extra inches a ladder. Dad and I have seen you use a stack of books to climb onto an air filter to retrive a cell phone. We have also seen you use a medicine ball to climb onto a media console to investigate the wires at the back of a flat screen TV. Just this morning you used your new little chair to climb onto your new little table to climb onto your old plastic boom box/CD player to peer over into your crib as you threw a bunch of CDs and books in there. It was more fun to be able to see them land which you were only able to do courtesy of the boom box. When you accompany me to the bathroom to brush my teeth, if the stepstool is not there you vehemently declare "ladder ladder" and leave the bathroom to go find it and bring it in. You determinedly push it through the apartment on a mission to return able to successfully reach the running water with your toothbrush.

It is not true though that that was the biggest change of the month because you, Little One, are transforming massively everyday. Daddy is away in Baltimore now but before he left we were spending whole weekends all together and it was amazingly fun. One Sunday the three of us went to Nice Matin for breakfast. We usually reserve our restaurant outings for when we have other people in tow - like Grandma and Grandpa - so that if you get restless, someone can walk around with you or take you outside without leaving the other person alone. But this particular Sunday, Daddy suggested we go out to brunch and it seemed like a grand idea. You were so happy in the restaurant. You sat in the highchair the entire time trying all sorts of different foods and looking at the sleeping baby next to us and saying hi to everyone. It was such fun, in fact, that the next weekend we did it again with your Great Grandma Roz. That same day you also walked a baby marathon. I have noticed that it is rare to see very young children walking around in the city as most are pushed in strollers or carried in slings. I do still carry you in the ergo a lot but we have not had much luck with the stroller. Most of the time you resist getting in it with such ferocity that I abandon the mission. In truth, I don't really love them either as I find it awkward trying to open a shop door and get the stroller inside and annoying to have to constantly apologize and say excuse me as I try to maneuver around. Every so often they are an evil necessity but this particular Sunday, you, Dad and I ventured out without one and you were so happy to just walk and explore the streets. It is nice to move at your pace because you notice all sorts of things that Daddy and I would just pass by. Several times you excitedly pointed out letters to us like the "A" and the "S" in the window at Staples. At one point, just after we turned the corner on Broadway, a woman came up to us with a sharp, "Excuse me." (Daddy and I conferred later and remarked that we had both thought that what was coming next was going to be a stern talking-to about the dangers of having a 17 month old walking by herself - the fact that it would only take a second for you to run out into the street -- or a complaint that you were making it more challenging for the people behind you to get where they were going in a jiffy. My heart started racing as I don't like to be scolded.) "You have 2000% cute there," she said. Phew. I wouldn't have put it quite that way but it was certainly true.

Shortly after we moved to suburbia the Upper West Side, Ranny met a mom on the street who had a little boy just one month older than you. Ranny told me that you guys were going to play together but I was a little bit skeptical as oftentimes I think moms don't really want to schedule playdates with babysitters. However, the very next day I came home from work and Veronica and Simon were in our apartment. It was so nice to meet them and since then, we have spent lots of time with our new friends - going to the museums or the park or to each other's homes. It has been really fun.













Whenever we walk by their building you call out "Timon. Timon" as though he were the Athenian Lord. When we are looking through one of your little books that have pictures of babies and you see an Asian boy you point and declare him to be "Timon." When I ask if you would like to go to the museum, your reply is generally "Yeah! Raca! Timon!" (Translation: "Yes, please, Mother. I would so enjoy seeing Veronica and Simon.") Sadly, Veronica and Simon have gone to Los Angeles for a month so we won't see them for awhile. I have tried to explain this to you since they only left yesterday and you have already asked for Timon about sixty times. When I tell you Simon is away, you immediately ask for "Raca". We are going to miss them a lot. Thankfully they left behind a photograph of the two of you together which is prominently displayed on your bookshelf and I'm confident that you are not going to forget your little friend during his absence. You have already given that picture lots of kisses.












I am really enjoying getting to know you and seeing your personality emerge. Now that you are talking so much and understanding nearly everything it is especially fun. I love the relationship that we are developing and feel so lucky to be your mom. You make me feel like I am doing a pretty good job even though your fabulousness probably has very little to do with me and everything to do with who you are at the very core. You have started putting two words together as in "All gone", "Daddy's wallet", "That one's sleeping." You ask for what you want by name as in "cheese" "cracker" "ball", "fire", etc. You still call Grandpa "Pa Paul" but Grandma has become "Helaine". You talk about Helaine all the time now and are equally excited to call her on the phone as you have been about Pa Paul for months now. You know zillions of words and your vocabulary seems to be growing exponentially by the day. Your new favorite book is "Where the Wild Things Are", your new favorite song is the alphabet with Happy Birthday a close second. You already have an opinion about what to wear and you particular like your shirts that have "parkles" ("sparkles") on them. You also like your slippers with the eyes even though they are almost two sizes too small. It is hard to get your monster feet slippers on you though we do manage it from time to time.
















You love to laugh and do it often. You continue to be amazingly adaptable and easygoing. At Jill and Jason's wedding this past weekend I had to leave you with a babysitter you had never met before that day. At 7:40pm (just as the wedding was starting) my cell phone vibrated. I couldn't pick it up because the bride was about to walk down the aisle. I glanced at it, though, and saw that it was an unfamiliar number, surely the babysitter. My heart sank imagining you arching your back and crying hysterically as you are wont to do from time to time. As soon as the procesion was over, I ran out and checked my messages. It was, indeed, the babysitter but she was calling to tell me that you were sound asleep and everything was fine. I should have known as that is much more in keeping with who you are than the tantrum-thrower who occasionally body snatches you.


As you know, the evil Body Snatcher was very much present the first week I came home from Mexico. Daddy didn't really get to meet her since he had to directly to San Diego and we had already performed the exorcism by the time he came home. It was unbelievably difficult and guilt-provoking as I felt you were completely justified in being confused and angry and clingy. But I also couldn't help but think "Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?" or "Oh my god! We went to Mexico and broke Stella!" But in truth a few days of love and attention and holding you a little more than usual was all it took and you were back to the girl I knew before we left. And, in a way, it was nice to know that you missed me and that it isn't necessarily okay for us to go away and leave you -- even with your grandparents who you so clearly love enormously.

But I also think that you are really beginning to know and understand that even though I have to go away sometimes, I will always come back to you. You and Daddy are my home and that's all there is to it.
Love,
Mama