Vivi: Fifteen Months

Dear Vivienne,

You are quite the toddler now.  You're constantly on the go.  You zoom around the house from dawn to dusk.  We should put a pedometer on you.  I bet your little legs walk miles around this house before the day is out.  

Taking you places is becoming harder because you want to get down to explore.  You only last so long in restaurants, and you try to climb out of the grocery cart at the supermarket.  For a baby who spent most of her life hiding from strangers, you aren't worried about staying with us either.  You're off without so much as a backward glance to make sure we're following you.  In fact, you think it's all so hilarious when Mumma has to chase after you.  The aisles at the library are endless fun because you can run ahead of me without me worrying about losing you in the crowds.

The stranger danger phase is over.  You might be a little wary of new people, but you warm up quickly.  Madeline had a field trip to a local indoor sports center last week, and you ran around with the big kids like a champ.  You had no problem demanding balls to play with from kids and grownups alike.   

You are demanding at home too.  You point and grunt with great persistence.  You cry when you don't get what you want.  No is a tough lesson to learn, but you're starting to get the hang of it.   

When you want a snack, you know where to go.  You run to the kitchen and point at the cabinet door until I find you a cracker to munch.   

Even with a spill-proof container, you find a way to dump your cereal on the floor.

You nod and say, "Yeah" in response to a lot of our questions.  Sometimes it's obvious that you know what we're talking about.

 "Vivi, do you want a snack?"
"Yeah, yeah!" head nod.  "Mmmmm."

At other times, you clearly have no idea what we're talking about, but you're willing to give it a try anyhow.    

"Vivi, do you like snakes?" Dada will ask.
"Yeah, yeah!" you nod.

Along with "Yeah," you've picked up some other new words.  Mumma and Dada are down.  But you also say, bubba, belly, baby, and juice.  You try to say Madeline.  Sometimes it's "Duh" sometimes it's "Mah-Duh"  sometimes it's "Ine-ine-ine."   

Poor Madeline.  You've started terrorizing your big sister a bit more.  The other afternoon I heard a terrible whining noise from where you two were playing.  Maddie was sitting at the dining room table with her guys, and you were tugging roughly on her arms and screeching loudly to get her attention.  Maddie, good big sister that she is, tried her best to ignore you, only letting out an occasional grunt of annoyance.  Yesterday, you pulled her hair pretty hard when she wouldn't let you see her Lego castle.  I understand that it's frustrating, Vivi, but you can not pull your sister's hair.  Ouch.   I'm waiting for the day that big sister turns around and slugs you.   

You had a follow-up with GI last week, and everything is looking great.  You weigh 18 lbs, 4 oz, which puts you in the 10th percentile.  You're curving upwards!  Your skin is clear.  There's very little rash remaining on your body.  I'm interested to see how you do this summer because that's when your skin really gave us trouble last year.  The sweaty creases of your body were a mess.   You still get bad BMs on occasion, but we know how to manage them now to keep the discomfort minimal.

The limitations in your diet is starting to get a bit more tricky because you're starting to notice that you're getting different foods than the rest of us.  We try to eat the same thing, or at least close to it, for dinner.  But if you see Madeline with a treat you can't have, it drives you crazy.  I've started stocking the pantry with Vivi-friendly treats to make up for it.

You love fruit and pasta.  You LOVE bread.  Dinner rolls are where it's at.  I still can't get you to eat any veggies unless they are mixed in a puree with fruit.  The only meat we've been able to get you to eat was in a taco, which is the same for Madeline.  My girls love tacos.  Go figure!  And, you're warming up to almond milk.

Above all, you're such a sweet, happy, plucky little thing that we all simply adore you.

Love,
Mumma