19

Dear JEB,


Today you are 19 months old and it is a holiday too! Two big events and yet you managed to get neither an Easter nor a birthday present from us. Please don't think that we disregard these holidays: It's just that you are so content to play with dirt, toothbrush holders, and laminated photos of cats and tractors that we feel it unnecessary to spend the extra money at this point in your life. I was going to take you out for a milkshake after your nap today, but we have just started to suspect that you may be allergic to milk, so that's out too. Sorry. I really hope that you are not allergic to milk, but ever since you started drinking it -- which was relatively recently (despite fervent attempts for the last six months) thanks to the novelty of your new personalized cup from Great Auntie "M" -- you can't seem to have a solid poop. Additionally you have developed a recurring diaper rash which is extremely painful (for everyone) and which kept us up for awhile last night. I don't remember exactly how long it was that we were up and not sleeping during the time when people are supposed to sleep, but the numbers 12:08 - 1:27 a.m. just popped into my head. So anyway, happy 19 months ... maybe we can go to Kroger later on this afternoon and let you run loose in the condiments section or something fun like that.

Nana & Grampy just left this morning after another whirlwind weekend visit. This time they actually didn't bring any gifts for you (they sent them through the mail before they knew they were coming), but they did take you and I to Target where you got a new bike helmet and I got a new coffee maker! You tried on two different helmets, both marked "toddler boy" and both blue with various boy-like pictures on them (tractors, trucks, etc.). I couldn't decide which fit you better, so I asked you which you wanted. You promptly walked over to the pink and purple Dora Explorer one made for 5+ girls. I think this is great that you like pink so much (although we still went home with the blue one). I have been in a pink phase too after nearly a lifetime of abhorring the color, so I can understand the sudden attraction. It may not be good for our fair-skin tones and reddish hair, but it is a nice color for things like house-slippers with pearls on them and bike helmets.

You did a similar thing the other day in the Goodwill store's toy department. I let you get down from the cart and asked if you'd like to pick out a toy for $0.50 or less, and you went straight to the pink Barbie convertible with open-shut doors, bucket seats, and a set of keys. You yanked out the half-bald Barbie, carefully placed her back on the shelf, put the keys in the ignition and headed straight for the glassware section where we met an elderly woman complaining that the candy bowls had gone up from $1.25 to $1.75: "And they call THIS 'goodwill'!?!" I guess she won't be able to complete her set. Luckily, I was able to divert you back into the toy section before anything got broken, where you became distracted by a deflated basketball while I quickly stashed the Barbie convertible behind a large assortment of fire chief hats. But just in case you ever wonder ... We didn't NOT buy the car because it was pink. We didn't buy it because it was more than $0.50 and that was the rule. And you know what a stickler I am about rules. Especially budgetary rules. Total stickler, just ask your dad.

On second thought, maybe you shouldn't bring up my financial management skills with your Dad. You and I spend a good deal of time together shopping (HEY! it's a learning experience -- vocabulary enrichment, math skills, socialization, etc.) and I am not looking forward to the days when you can actually tell him what all we bought and snuck into the house: "Oh that old thing? What do you mean, 'is it new?' -- of course it's not new ... we've had that thing forever." Not that you and I ever do much damage. For one thing, you can't sit still long enough for me to actually get any shopping done and for another, we aren't exactly rolling in a lot of extra money to spend on, oh, say a new baker's rack for the kitchen or some of those cool embroidered cowgirl boots that I saw at a boutique near my school.

In fact, I am in the process of trying to find you a new school to attend so that I can get a better/more lucrative teaching setup, but it's really hard to find part-time childcare. And anyway, summer is coming up and I can't bear to think of actually working more and missing out on any of those long summer days where you spend hours squashing bugs, licking popsicles, and getting those sweaty, humidity-induced ringlets all over your head.

Today we spent about a half hour throwing rocks into the lake and pointing really hard at dragonflies. Afterwards we watched a mama goose sitting on her nest of eggs. Last year not one single baby goose made it because of predators, so this year you and I are going to be cheerleaders for those little eggs we saw today. I know that every mother just wants the best for her kids (and clearly getting eaten by a snapping turtle is not the best scenario for a baby gosling), so we are going to root for the home team.

Happy 19th Baby Goose!

Love,
Mama

p.s. Stay away from snapping turtles.