Letter to My Son, Age 15 Months

My dearest Wesito Fox:

My, how you’ve grown since my last letter, on the eve of your birthday three months ago. No, not so much in weight (less than a pound in all that time) though apparently quite a bit in height, if the nurse is to be trusted. She measured twice, but I’m still in doubt as to her 34.5″ results. By my own haphazard measurements, you’re closer to 33″. Who knows who’s right? You are desperately in need of new clothes: that’s the gist of it.

But it’s in all the things you do that we can tell how much has changed. Some things have thrown us for a loop we admit (this is a happy letter, so we won’t go into details about those tantrums of yours, okay?), but most bring a giant smile to my face, like:

– your love for all things bicycle: at the store, the ones you try to climb up on, four times your size; riding on mama’s bike; your helmet, which you love so much you wear inside the house just because

– the way you took off walking one day just like that and never looked back, not even when you started walking backwards, giggling at this new ability, and are now practically running

– your daily two to three hours naps, which let us all recharge our batteries

– your big bad molar chompers, for which we all paid a hefty price, but which have added so much character to your open mouth laughs

– the joy with which you dump water all over the floor and yourself outside at the water table and even that thing you do when you stick your hand in the water, then taste your fingers (yuck!)

– the “vrooms” and “zooms”  you make as you take your trains and cars all around a table and up and down a wall

– your love of stickers and Band-Aids

– how you sort your block crayons in and out of their tin, opening and closing it over and over, then bring a crayon to your mouth for a taste test, always with the same unappealing result

– your obsession with any book page that contains a picture of a fruit or vegetable, at which you dutifully point to and demand their names (or at the rooster and donkey so you can hear your mama crowing and braying again and again)

– your obsession with real fruits and vegetables, how we must arm ourselves with our own fruit from home before setting foot into any produce department, lest you empty all their bins as you point with gusto: look – a tomato! look – an onion! a zucchini! an apple! a banana!

– the accompanying mouth popping thing you do that I cannot even properly describe, almost as if you were already tasting it, the second I offer the option of said fruit

– that incredibly long tongue of yours, which you stick out when I ask for your “lengua” and the way you point at my teeth to hear the word “dientes”

– your hiding of any household object imaginable; I may find my cell phone inside an old oatmeal can or small wooden balls inside the subwoofer

– how you put the thermometer up to your ear pretending to take your temperature, hold your brush up to your hair, “help” to brush your teeth, and love to floss

– your immediate giggles upon setting sight on a dog

– your penchant for sunglasses, preferably mama’s or daddy’s rather than your own

– your love of indoor playgrounds, bravely heading off without us, eager to play with other children, the older the better

– your ability to go up to the pantry or refrigerator to let us know you are in need of a snack or in want of an occasional glass of orange juice

– your sorting of items, counting all of them “twoooooooooooooooooooo”

– the kiss you give me every night before you go to bed: that one’s my favorite

All my love, forever and ever,

your Mama

2 thoughts on “Letter to My Son, Age 15 Months

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