Month 23: What's Jordan dooying?

Dear Jordan,

You're now 23 months, which means almost TWO! I can't believe it!

When I came home from the airport last week, you and Nana were on the curb, waiting for my cab to pull up. You looked like such a big boy! You gave me such a big hug!

You've gotten so huggy and kissy and cuddly and affectionate. I just love it.

On Saturday morning I came downstairs and you and your dad were watching videos of planes taking off and landing on his computer. You were fascinated. You seem to like real-life videos much more than cartoons.

While I can totally relate, I hope you get into cartoons. Your dad needs someone to watch the Simpsons with.

Your language has gotten more and more developed, and now, instead of you just constantly observing and reporting, we can have little conversations.

You often ask, "How's your day?"

Language acquisition continually blows me away. Last month, you started using "I." And while I was gone, you started using the past tense! The other day you said, "Monroe left his lawnmower." And, "Mama, you dropped ice on the floor."

Holy crap!

Something I find adorable is your struggle with diphthongs. You call your friend Liam "Lilam," and instead of saying "doing" you say "dooying."

In fact, "What's Jordan dooying?" is one of your favorite phrases.

Of course, the other day, what it turned out Jordan was dooying was pushing the table with the built-in lamp over so that it was leaning precariously against the window.

You continue to love books, and you're particularly fascinated by Richard Scarry's Cars and Trucks and Things That Go. It's a book I'm slowly beginning to loathe.

Because seriously, you'll say, "What's that?"

And I'm tired of being all, "That's a hippomobile! That's a tamper-downer!"

Seriously.

Also, last night, I was pretty certain that if I had to answer, "What's that?" one more time, my head was going to melt. I'd just walked the two miles home from work in air that feels like hot dog breath, and instead of a cool gin and tonic, I had Richard Scarry thrust into my hands.

I wilted into a chair, you clambered on my lap, book open, and I had to be all, "That? Oh, that's an owl on a broom-o-cycle."

The hell?

Fortunately, Lilam's mama called us just in time, and we headed over to their house for some chaos creation and dinner. We are really going to miss them when they move away very soon.

Now, when we meet potential friends in the neighborhood, I make them sign a piece of paper promising they're never moving again, or at least not for 10 years. We've made some great friends in the last two years.

One of the best moments I have ever had in my life happened last week when I was cuddling you in my lap and I said, "I love you love you love you." And you snuggled back into me and said, "Love you love you love you."

The best.

Love,

Mama