Letters to Maddie Bear: February, 2013

Dear Madeline,

Happy Valentine's Day, little apple of my eye.  Before I started typing tonight, I took a minute to look over your letter from last Valentine's Day when you turned 17 months old.  Not much has changed, and yet you're such a different little lady now.

An entire year ago I sat right here at the same computer, in the same room, at the same time, writing your monthly letter.  While I wrote, I could hear you giggling over the baby monitor.  You took your socks off, and Dada had to go upstairs to put them back on for you.

Twelve months later, it still takes you about an hour to fall asleep after we put you to bed.   You don't seem to mind.  You entertain yourself with books and stuffed animals.  I like listening to you sing or talk over the baby monitor.  I can hear you singing "The Wheels on the Bus" upstairs right now. You still take your socks off most nights, but you also sometimes wiggle out of your pajamas as well.  On those nights, we have to try to stealthily zip you back in your jammies without waking you up.

The thing that amazed me the most about last year's letter was that you were still drinking from a bottle at night.  Even after spending so many months feeding you one last bottle of milk before bed, I can't really remember what that was like.  Now you simply crawl into your big-girl bed, we read a few stories, and you put yourself to sleep without us.

You've been so much fun recently, Madeline.  You're such a silly bean.  You've really just started to understand how to joke and make us laugh on purpose.  If we laugh at something you do or say, you'll repeat it to get us to laugh again.  You make simple jokes, and make silly faces.  

 Sometimes I worry that you've got a slightly warped funny bone.  You tend to find things like people falling or bumping one's head the funniest.

Last night we were pretending to feed Olaf your princess Little People.  I thought it might get you worried, but all you said was, "They're not even done cookin' yet."  Umm, is that why we find your princesses in your toy frying pan so often?  Are you making dinner?  Meanwhile, you've started imitating Olaf's deep accent yourself.  It's pretty hilarious.

You've become much more interested in other children.  For a long time, you'd like to look at other kids or play beside other kids, but now you want to play with other kids.  You've become more insistent about asking to play with the neighbors.  You talk about your cousins Katie Belle and Evelyn constantly.  This afternoon you told me about dumping blocks on your friend at school...which, of course, you found hilarious.

The words that come out of your mouth still astonish me sometimes.  Manners are starting to kick in.  You've become much better about pleases and thank yous.  

You learned a song about the months of the year in school, and you sing it every night.  My favorite part is that you pronounce October as "Toctobah" with a really strong emphasis on the second "O" sound.   We're still not sure where that Boston accent is coming from, Madeline.  We may live in the area, but neither of your parents speak that way.

I'm pleased to say that you've been pretty easy going recently.  The tantrums have been few and far between.  Of course you have the usual meltdowns when you get overtired or overwhelmed, but you've been mostly well behaved.

The only time I really see you get truly upset is when you don't get things placed exactly the way you want them.  For example, only the princess Little People are allowed in the bus.  If Dada tries to put the zookeeper in there, you lose it.

She was angry/scared at Dada's Mr. Potato Head

The other day you got caught coloring on the dining room table with your markers.  I said sharply, "Uh-Oh!  We don't do that!" By the way you reacted, someone may have thought I slapped you.  You buried your face in your hands and wept pitifully.  You wouldn't look at me for a long time.  I discipline you for things on a daily basis, but I could tell you felt really guilty and embarrassed this time.  It broke my heart a little.

It struck me especially because I remember feeling just like that when I got in trouble as a kid.  I hated it so much that I just wanted to crawl up under the table and hide.

Hopefully you understood that I still love you, but that you can't color on the table.  I think you got it.  I talked you through it the best I could.  You said sorry.  Half an hour later you were back to your normal self, but you haven't colored on the table since.  Fingers crossed.

We love you little Madeline.  You're such a bright light in this world.  I hope you have a wonderful Valentine's Day party at school today.  I can't wait to see your cards when you get home this afternoon.

I love you,



         Mumma