The Fidg at 20.9 months (mommy is really behind)

Your cousins have been cropped form this photo. Hope your Auntie isn't mad about that.

So, kid, I was late on your 19 month and now, on the eve of your 21st month post, I'm just getting to your 20th month post and I still have yet to write up a proper Disneyland trip recap (from early October). Sigh. Such is life, kid.  I've fallen right off the blog wagon. If you flashed back to me in 2004 or so, you'd find that statement hard to believe. Those were early blog days, my dear.  On the cusp between the first internet and the 2.0 era.  These terms won't mean anything to you, I'm sure.  Sort of like explaining Compuserve or Prodigy to most people today. Or Z TV. Or the ON channel. Something like these things will rise in your lifetime and be replaced by something else. I can't imagine what. Your dad would probably say it'll be roll-up screens so you can have an actual virtual book or magazine in your pocket, not the rigid tablet that are ALL the rage this holiday season. Kindle Fire - will it be your Zack Morris phone? Your Atari?

 This phase of your life is mostly about verbal development. Physically, while you are growing taller and your cheeks are slightly less chompy and your hair is still not pig-tail-able, you've sort of plateaued.  Oh, except that after months of trying to achieve jump lift-off, you finally have. You can jump now and you love. it.  You love it a lot. You'll jump up and down and across the room. Jump jump jump.  Last week you started Tumblebunnies (or pumbletummies) toddler gym classes where there are giant, long trampolines and having seen the videos, well, it seems like a baby's dream come true. All that bouncing. You're nuts for it, you are.


You also play a mean harmonica solo. And you have started singing.  You sing along to some Gideon Kahn songs your daddy plays you during mealtimes and dance times.  And you sing this song that one of your toys plays:

It's fun to hear you laugh and sing
Learning while you play
And when I see your smiling face
This is what I say:


I love you, I love you
Morning, noon, and night
I love you, I Love! you
You make my world so bright.

Except your version is sorta:

Fun noo heree oo laff an ing
lening wi ooo payyyy
An en I see you smiying face
Dis iss wha I sayyyy


I laffff you I lafff you
Moring oon and ight
I lafff you I laAFFFF OOU
You ma my wod so brighhhhh

Approximately.


The language development is something I knew I'd be really keen on since before you were born and you're not disappointing. You try most words out loud now and pick them up quickly.  You've started with short sentences.  "Daddy is?"  "Mommy is?"  And over the past two days "Mommy, where arreeeee ouuuuuuu?" in a very sing-songy voice. Don't even know where that one came from. And of course, you still ape daddy's "ummmm" when you we ask you a question you don't know the immediate (or any) answer to.  Also, about a month ago now, you one day just stopped calling me mama and moved to Mommy. That's cool.  Daddy has been daddy pretty consistently.  And now when you wake at night you can call for someone by name which is simultaneously cute, heartbreaking, and annoying. (Truth.)


You show no signs of being ready to ditch nursing. I can't believe we're coming up on 2 years of this nursing business. I didn't think I'd make it to 6 weeks, let alone over 80.  Yikes.  And for the most part, we all still sleep together for most of the night.  It's not ideal, but then again, I can't blame you - I mean - who doesn't want to snuggle with people all night? Everyone wants to snuggle with people all night because snuggling is awesome.  I assume that once we're past nursing we'll be able to merge you into your crib for a full night and, probably distressingly soon, a big girl bed. We've already purchased that, btw. It's going to be painted turquoise for you and it's going to be awesome. I hope. But who knows when you'll sleep in it.


This still doesn't really cover your accomplishments over the last month (or two).  I'll try to get back on this wagon, my dear, but if you wonder what keeps me from focusing more on, well, anything, just grab a mirror.