India: Month 21

Dear India,

You are now 21 months old - nigh on two years! I don't remember the last letter I wrote, and it's high time I did so.

I talked you into wearing the brown corduroy overalls in this picture - the most subdued item of clothing in your ensemble. You chose the rest.

With Jordan, except for the Cold Pants, I could (and can) typically give him two choices of pieces of clothing, and he would happily choose. YOU, on the other hand, don't hesitate to say, "No! No!" You then march over to your dresser, climb the chair next to it, and peer in the top drawer.

Are you kidding me? You're not even two!

We have been watching a lot of Princess Bride lately. Your brother adores it, and you like it as well, although you understandably take breaks to play with things, climb on us, etc. But like the rest of us, you've watched it a good 37 times in the last couple weeks.

This morning, when I came in to get you, I said, "Hello!"

And you said, "Lady!"

"That's right! Hello, lady!"

This morning you pointed out and listed everyone in your crib with you. At night, when I put you down, you command me to amass them for you one by one. Doggie is always first. Then giraffe. "Graff!" Lion is new to your attention; until now you've had no interest in him. Then "Blanket!"

You have so much to say and your verbal abilities are lagging behind the sentences I know you are forming in your mind.

Last night I got home just in time to read you a couple stories and put you to bed. You, Jordan and I were all sitting in the chair with the book, but what you really wanted to do was tell me about the birthday party you guys went to on Saturday.

"Birday!"

"Yes! You went to a birthday party!"

"Party! Birday!" Pause... "CAKE!"

And every so often, you'd turn to look at me, put your hand on my cheek and say, "Birday!" You'd add a detail. "Yatta!" (Jordan had just explained that they had a pinata.)

I hope that this means that once you're older, you'll tell me all about what you did at school and what you ate for lunch and who you played with. Instead of saying, "I don't know." (Ahem, Jordan.)

At night, you have very definite ideas about the books you want read to you, although if Jordan joins us, which delights you, you're happy for him to choose as well.

You get enraged when it's time to stop reading and turn out the light, and lately I have taken to asking you if you'd like to just get in bed, or if you'd like to sing. You don't choose bed until you're read, so you opt for Sing.

Last night I said, "Well, then you need to stop screaming."

And you did.

You also like to be in charge of the songs sung, or the nursery rhymes you'd like recited. If I hadn't read Mother Goose (This version is a spectacular book, in my opinion. I've read it approximately 978 kabillion times, and I am not tired of it.) so many times, I often wouldn't know what you wanted.

Because you will say, "Ayplane!"

And I know that means you are thinking of the page with "Dickory dickory dare, the pig flew up in the air..." which has illustrations of a pig in a plane.

I didn't know your dad had been singing London Bridge to you, however, and so when you kept saying, "Bitch!" I had no idea what you might be requesting.

Sometimes now you and Jordan will play together and giggle so hard, and it brings me such tremendous joy. He gives you a boost up onto our bed to jump in it, and he helps you down.

You two love to get your little stripey towels on after bath, and lie on the bath mat like little striped turtles. I then put another towel over the two of you, and we play the, "Jordan! India! Where are you?" game.

We do this night after night and you love it. "Whee ah yo?" You will say it if I don't. "Wheeahyo?"

Unlike your brother, you love to brush your teeth, and you want to do it yourself. With him, it is a tremendous struggle. Always. Whereas you will suggest it.

You are so sweet, and huggy, and you blow kisses and say, "Love you." and bring us all such great joy. If Jordan is upset, you'll get concerned and give him a hug.

I mean, you do piss Jordan off when you break his Lego creations, or swipe a car and refuse to give it back, and I wish you'd get the rest of your teeth so you can stop screaming at night.

But on balance, joy. So much joy.

Love you love you love you.

Mama