20 months looks like this:
We are closer to two years than one. She is rarely short for words and even though three-word-sentences are becoming the new standard I am shocked by each new combination. We seemed to accidentally skip over the sippy-cup phase and she now handles a cup with confidence. She’s adjusting well to our recent move, and soon we’ll take on the task of mastering life post-diapers. Though a bit more moody in typical toddler fashion, she is her silly self.
My favorite things about 20 months:
- Increased interest in dance, and more fluid movements and coordination. When she sees a ballet dancer she dashes to get her own ballet slippers
- Making her puppets move and talk
- Cuddly and affectionate
- Wants to help
- She finally likes to eat (sometimes)
- Super empathetic
- She tells me what story or song she wants to hear as she fall asleep
- Listening to her carry a melody and sing songs
- Using more abstract words: right, here, lean, back, now, scared, where, and
- Starting to draw smilie faces
My least favorite things about 20 months:
- Increased interest in the potty means hanging out in the bathroom for 10-15 minutes at a time
- She can be moody, and it can make something simple, like getting into the car seat a big deal
- When she is making a doll cry it sounds like someone is squeezing a baby pig
- Crayon on the table. Crayon on the chair.
- She’s too short to see the world from my vantage point and it is endless frustrating for her
- Wanting to read the same book a dozen times in the same day
- If she is afraid of something, she gets a little obsessed with it, and it can be a pitiful cycle of “I scared! Oh no!”
- Stickers in hair, on eyes, floor, clothes, shoes…
I will get caught up on the 52 week photo challenge — really!
A ladybug invasion greeted us at the new house.
My entire life I have loved both “the sciences” and “the arts.” Ballet, biology, piano, voice, and physics were particular areas of interest. I studied each in and out of school, and felt great conflict. I didn’t know a ballet-loving biologist, or a piano playing physicist. I felt compelled to identify with one world or the other, and it was a source of great stress for many years. Only (recently) in adulthood did I find that I could pursue a graduate degree in ecology and make a career in a field of applied science, while confidently engaging in the creative disciplines that have made me happy in the past. This year I will make time for dance classes, and take delight in tying pointe shoes to my feet when they are once again strong enough. While packing for our big move, I found a bag of pointe shoes waiting for me. In the new house there will be a place for a piano. My easel will be set up. I’ll show my daughter what an art-loving ecologist looks like.
Today we roamed the Natural Science Center with our friend Hannah. All nineteen months of fun, curiosity and frustration were running strong as my girl chased after big kids walking by, used words to tell me what she wanted to do, and of course laid down like a wet noodle when told the otters were not out today thanks to the snow.
She is my only child, and every day is still filled with firsts. It keeps things exciting and the novelty of each new skills helps to ease the hints of sadness that are unavoidable as you watch a child march steadily toward adulthood. Today, it was jumping in a puddle. Silly, cliche, and just not a big deal really, but watching my child hop in a puddle is something I’ve looked forward to, and I’m so glad I was with her when she went for it. I’m also glad I fought the urge to scoot her along to dry ground and reminded myself there was a clean pair of socks and pants in her diaper bag. I let her jump, and my heart swoon.
The first snow of the season – nineteen months old. This morning she woke up and giggled at the changed view from the window. I sipped coffee from my favorite mug, and she offered refills with her red teapot with white polka-dots. Soon snow bibs were secured, a hat pulled over blonde curls, and purple snow boots velcroed around tiny chubby feet. Like the green hue of her eyes, this girl seems to have inherited my love of snow.