Dear Little Elephant,
Today you are 16 months old. The idea that in the near future we might start counting your age in years instead of months is shocking. Don’t be surprised when your 10th birthday cake says “Happy 1200 months!”
It turns out, my dear, that you are very creative. You are learning that tantrums are not always the best way to get what you want. What you want, almost always, is to go outside and play. You try myriad ways to achieve this. Now, you bring us socks and shoes– both ours and yours. You take away our slippers as you understand we won’t go outside in these. Once, you even grabbed the dog’s leash, offering to help me take her out and, through this action, got Harley quite exited.
You like to sit on different things: new chairs, logs, benches, piles of clothes, etc. Then, you like to push your back against different surfaces to see how they fit, how the feel, and how your body moves. You even dance now! You shimmy your shoulders in the bath to old-school Rubber Ducky sung by Ernie, stomp your feet and spin around to salsas, and even bogie in your highchair with your lips fully pursed to “Nosa”, a silly Brazilian song that was popular in Kazakhstan.
It’s been a while since you learned how to say “bye-bye” and give a kiss. Now, however, you are trying to use this to your advantage. The other day I came home and we were outside talking to neighbors. You wanted to go in and nurse, so you reached over to our neighbor, gave her a kiss, and announced “bye-bye”. Your message couldn’t have been clearer! You have also tried in the morning to see if you could send Dada to work and keep Mama home in this way.
I need to get a video of your laugh; it is infectious. It almost always leaves you with hiccups. You are learning to tease people, joke, provoke laughter– no small feet given your limited vocabulary.
Much to your father’s dismay, you continue to feed Harley. Now, you throw food to her by pretending to clean your tray. Then you give us this look to say it was an accident! Ha!
You have started to cook with Mama and make coffee with Dada. You get furious if not included! You can measure out spoonfuls of flour or spices and put them into mixing bowls. You press the button to grind the coffee and start the coffee machine. You make a huge mess when you try to help stir batter. The other morning I asked if you helped Dada make coffee, you indicate “No”. I asked if you did it yourself, you said “yea”.
You are my little, independent wonder! My tiny researcher, ever curious and thoughtful. You are my sunshine everyday.
Love always and forever,