Month 22: Airplanes, mud, and dining suggestions

Dear Jordan,

This has been a huge month for you. You were on an airplane! Multiple airplanes! And the runway! And you got to TOUCH AN EEPLANE!

"Touch an eeplane" for you is a perfectly valid conversation opener.

As is, "No alarm today."

This was your conversation starter with pretty much everyone you met at the wedding we attended. This necessitated our explaining how interesting our alarm system at home is, and how the rental didn't have one.

You have gotten simultaneously needy and bossy.

In the last month, you've stopped wanting to walk anywhere, and demanded to be carried. You don't ask; you demand. "Uppa Mama!" "Daddy cayy you!"

I think you get shy in crowds, which was why you wanted to be carried around at the wedding. That I get; I get shy too. It was frustrating, but understandable.

However.

Whereas you used to revel in your new-found ability to walk, and in the freedom it gave you, you now refuse to walk down the sidewalk, even to the park. To the point where you will throw a tantrum. NOOOOOOO WAAAAAALK MAMA CAYYYYYOOUUU.

You have definite preferences depending on the day. The days you are all about Daddy, you are not subtle. If I'm around, you look at me, wave, and say, "Bye bye Mama."

You are having a wonderful summer with your nana. I come home so many days and you're both soaking wet and running around on the back deck having a great time.

I've gotta say, though, she's not the role model I thought she was. In fact, she's a corrupter.

She's single-handedly introduced you to: milkshakes, ice cream cones, chocolate pudding, and pound cake.

I should thank my lucky stars she's not a crackhead. I mean, for many reasons, of course.

But seriously, sometimes I'm feeding you dinner and you're not all that interested, and you look at me and suggest, "Go to the Diner?"

Which is where Nana takes you for batter-fried shrimp and milkshakes.

Yesterday I came home and you had chocolate ice cream all over your face. You'd had an ice cream cone and gotten it all over the steps. And in the process of washing the steps, she of course squirted you with the hose, because oh, you love the hose. Almost as much as you love dirt.

It was impossible to tell where the chocolate ended and the dirt began. You were delighted.Your little friend who'd stopped by in clean clothes and real shoes was very envious. Until we took you both out back, got you nakey nakey, and put you in the pool. You love it. You run around saying, "Jordan's nakey!"

That served as your bath. I missed a lump of dirt in your ear, I later discovered. Nobody's perfect.

These are the best days, they really are. Although I keep thinking that, and then they get even better. So these are the right now best days.

Love love love,

Mama