You are 17 months old. I am sorry, but I missed marking 16 months. It was a great month I am sure, but somehow, it just slipped away and before I knew it we were closer to 17 months than 16 months and so here we are.
The past month (or two) are have really been all about watching your personality sprout. It has gotten to the point that I really have to admit that you are more toddler than baby. It is so much fun to watch this little person emerge - this little person full of life, opinions, wants and determination. You show us this beautiful little girl that loves to smile and laugh but is full of determination and when you want something you will do everything in our power to get it. Unfortunately, this might mean pinching your brother to get the toy he is currently playing with, but I will get to that. You love to giggle and be silly, you love to wrestle and rough-house, but you can also be incredibly tender, to me, to your brother, to your dad. I love watching each side of you and watching you learn to navigate each behavior.
We should have known this was coming, but you have discovered the joy of emptying things out. We first saw this with the little containers of toys we have because I am an organization freak. So each time we open the toy cabinet your favorite activity is to take each container out and dump its contents on the floor and mix them all together. My blood pressure raises each time you do it, but then we pick them all up and separate the legos from the army guys from the puzzle pieces and for a nano second all is right with my world - until you do it again. However, this is not just limited to toys. The other night I was responsible for finishing dinner (basically just taking it out of the oven and warming up a vegetable, but that is a lot for me) while your dad and brother were getting haircuts. In the less than 5 minutes that took you were relatively unattended, you managed to empty the entire drawer of kitchen towels and half a cabinet of cooking pots. I turned around to complete maham. You were then working on the cabinets under the kitchen sink, the door to which I must have left open because I do not you have master the child locks quite yet. You had tucked a bottle of disinfecting wipes under your arm and were making a break for the other room. When I took that bottle away from you I might as well have been cutting your heart out of your chest with a spoon as the sound of your disappointment was certainly heard for a mile radius. And that is not mention your body going limp as you threw yourself to the floor to further evidence your disappoint. Oh yes, my sweet child, you have proven your point - you can throw a monumental tantrum, but regardless of your ability for drama - sometimes you are still not going to get your way.
Your communication has increased dramatically and we are so thankful for the progress. You have had opinions longer than you have had words and actions to express them which often lead to frustration and fits. I wish I could say the tantrums have ended, I can't (see above), but I can say that we are learning how to communicate. Your words include: mama, papa, baby, dog, ball, up, please, boat (and Boat, the dog), Bella. You also try to say brother and Brewer - which we can understand, but I am not sure the person off the street would have a clue. You have learned to answer questions by shaking your head. These simple yes and no gestures have brought us a long way. You have been in this stage of life where the only way to communicate to us is by complaining. And I know it is just one of those things about kids, you can get away with it because you don't know any better, and as your parents we have to accept that sometimes. But really it needs to come to end. Sometimes you just don't get your way because I am the parent and most of the time I know what is better for you -- you can't have marshmellows for breakfast no matter how many times you say please, no we won't take the lid off the hot sauce, no you can't stand up on the dining room table even if you can climb up there, yes you do occassionally have to wear a diaper even if you wiggle like an angry monkey while we put on... You get the idea. When you're an adult and pay bills and the government takes more than a third of your income you might have a bit more of a reason to complain. But really it's just not nice to complain all the time, even when you can't stick a butter knife in the electric socket. EVEN THEN!
I cannot skip over your relationship with your brother. Oh, if you could do everything Hyat does. You do your best to drink from a big kid cup, to climb, to wrestle, to play alongside him. Simply, you want to be big, you want to be like Hyat, you want to do the things big people do. Though is is fun to watch your little tiny bodied-chubby fingered-baby bellied self master knew skills on a daily basis, sometimes I just want time to slow down. To just give me a little bit longer to hold you in this stage - to keep you as my little pre-toddler with just enough baby left to munch on. Your brother is very sweet to you. While dropping you off at school the other day you were on the verge of crying as I was leaving and Hyat came over and patted you on the back taking your hand and told you, "its okay, I am here Embrie, and I will take care of you while mama goes to work." And you know what, it was okay. I am so thankful that you two have each other and hope and pray that over the years your love for one another only grows. You may love each other, but part of growing up is driving your sibling crazy. You LOVE to push Hyat's buttons. This is most often done in the car while driving and you begin to pull on Hyat's sleeve. It makes him crazy and makes you laugh. So I do a lot of scolding from the front seat and Hyat does a lot of whining. You aren't really doing anything wrong because all you are doing is touching him, but really, lets not drive him nuts. You do occassionally lash out at your brother and pinch or hit. Sometimes it may seem justified because he really is being a terd, but more often than not it is simply because you didn't get your way. Ah, sibling love.Embrie your dad will never admit it, but you have him wrapped around the littlest of your fingers. I think you probably have all along, but you have started calling him Papa and I know every time he hears you it melts his heart. We have always referred to him as dad, dada or daddy then one day he went outside to start the truck and you were pointing at the door saying "papa" until he came back in at which you lit up and exclaimed, "PAPA!" And so Papa it has been ever since - and each timeyou utter "papa" your grip around his heart gets just a bit tighter.
As for me, this stage with you has been much harder than it was with your brother. I struggle with your tantrums because it breaks my heart to see you so upset, but I simply can't give into them. It is not because I do not love, but because I do. I know this too will pass and that is hard for me as well. I love you reaching a level of having just enough independence to play on your own or with your brother, but still being just enough baby that I can cuddle you and you fit in my arms with chubby parts and without skinny legs and elbows poking out. We rarely let you or your brother sleep with us, but the other day your dad and I were desperate for a nap and you woke up early from yours so we snuggled you in our bed and let you fall back asleep and I treasured those moments of hearing your sweet breath and watching your body at peace with sleep. Yes, being your mama can be hard, but then there is your smiling face, your giggles, your cuddles, and when you utter mama with contentment and I know with every fiber of my body that it is worth it. Love,
Mama
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