Dear Thomas,
You are just a smidgen past fifteen months old, and yet for the past week and a half I've been automatically rounding you up to sixteen months. Once the calendar page flipped to November, my brain just tallied up the remaining weeks as nothing much and you were older before you truly were older. If that makes sense. Sometimes I confused myself, when someone would ask me how old you are, and I had to count on my fingers. Fifteen or sixteen months? I think all the Backyardigans we're watching is affecting me, I don't know.
It's been a busy month, whatwith Halloween and visiting with family and friends, and now Thanksgiving is nearly here with all its turkey and dressing and cranberry sauce and squash casserole goodness. (Oh, and sweet potato casserole! How could I forget?) Besides all the delicious food, I want to be ensconsed in family. When we went home for Halloween, it was one of the best weekends I can remember in such a long time. We got through the stress of Halloween (next year Mama will make sure you have a comfortable costume) (and I'll actually let you eat some of your candy, this year you didn't notice or care) and then we happily puttered around for the rest of the weekend with people that we love. First of all, we stayed with my Other Parents, who you call Grandmarty and Granddon. I've been so blessed to know them and love them, and be loved so extraordinarily by them, and now you finally got a chance to know them, too. You had so much fun, carefully climbing the steps to the living room over and over, running to the back door to look at the dogs through the glass, playing with your very first Thomas the Train. Your daddy and I sat around and drank far too much coffee, and Grandmarty and I tried to catch up on six months worth of gossip.
There was time spent the other parts of the family, everyone got a little slice of Thomas time. You are fairly easy to deal with when it comes to these excursions, and I suspect it's because you get so much attention and love that it makes it worth your while. We are lucky that you love new places and don't freak out because your routine has suddenly gone askew. Still, I justified our stay-at-home Saturday during the trip home, to make sure you had your nap, instead of catching catnaps in the car. That was definitely what stressed me out about Halloween, the fact that you did not sleep in the car and then we had all these places to be, people who wanted to see you. And dang it, I had made your costume and by God you were going to wear it! No sleeping now! Chop chop, kid! Trunk or Treating would done, one way or the other! Where's my wire hanger?
Sunday afternoon, we drove home to Lovie and Gramps and crammed as much fun as we could into a day and a half together. The weather was mild enough to spend lots of time outside, with your bike and the dogs and also, the four wheeler. I let Gramps whisk you away on the four wheeler for a quick ride, and I have this video of your Lovie and I, and all your hear is the two of us talking, as Gramps has just ridden away with you. The funniest part is where I tell Gramps, "Not too fast!" as if he's Evil Kneivel or something.
Still, it makes a mama nervous. I'm trying to let go, but it's hard. I can't help but picture worst-case scenarios and then I find myself mentally keening in a closet. Maybe if you get a helmet, I'll feel better. You still are not allowed to ride four wheelers alone until you are at least old enough to vote. The end.
It was so good, to come home for no real reason or celebration (even though Lovie and Gramps dutifully came up to Hattiesburg and handed out candy at Trunk or Treat, which I take as a sign that Lovie has been missing Halloween). You woke up saying "Kitty!" because you could hear the kitty in the living room. Your Lovie played and played and played with you, being the epitome of silly, in that wonderful way she is. Best of all is that your Daddy was with us, after months and months of working his tail off.
In regular ordinary life, you are a busy, happy little dude. You ask for Backyardigans by bobbing your head and pointing at the Tivo remote. You cry when I tell you they have gone bye-bye. If anyone leaves the room or the house, you are immediately concerned and often will cry at the door. If I tell you it's time to get dressed, you get this incredibly mischeivous look on your face, and start running away from me. I know it's all in fun so I don't fuss at you for it, but it does lead to a lot of me chasing you with your pajamas. Now you sleep in a big bed, since somewhere along the way I discovered that you sleep better with room to roll around. This was sometime after you got out of your crib (with a great big THUMP)!We then raised the rails so high you could not possibly get out, but it was also impossible to lay you down in your crib. One night, after you started sleeping in your big bed, you woke up and came to me and Daddy, in our room. It was scary, to think that we didn't hear you if you were crying, but I took it as a good sign, that you knew to come to us.
You are not much of a talker, but the babbling has definitely increased. You know most of your body parts, and can identify your eyes, ears, nose, mouth, teeth, belly, and feet. Lately, you will point at something and say, "Dis?" over and over again. I noticed, when we were home amidst all the family, that you babbled a lot more, maybe because you heard so much talking around you.
Your current obsession is your drum and drumsticks. You've had this drum for months, but never really cared about it. One day, your Daddy found the second drumstick (under the couch) and showed you how to beat on the drum with both sticks. Since then, you have been devoted to your drumsticks and finding other surfaces to beat upon. Sometimes you even play your little piano with them. You make us laugh, all this drumming, and sometimes, bombastic singing that accompanies the racket you kick up, loud and happy and wonderful, just as making music should be.
Thomas, you are slowly emerging, the very who-ness of you, and what I see and sense (through my rose-colored mama lenses) is a person that makes me proud. You are genuinely loving towards your friends, and gentle towards other children. I know this may not last, but the fact that you don't snatch or grab other toys away from kids makes me really happy. You have a hard time with not getting your way, but so do I. We can work on it, together. I love that we have this time, it's now six months that I've been home with you every single day. I love that we can stop whatever we're doing and play the harmonica, or walk slowly down a sidewalk. You remind me to slow down, to wonder, to ponder - you keep me present, and all the times where I lay next you, helping you fall asleep, I try to remember to pray, to give my worries and fears away, so that I soak up every moment of sunshine that is now, that only comes once. Never are you anything but pure blessing, a true gift from a loving God indeed. I love you, always, like crazy.
Mama
