19 months

by Ashley Weeks Cart

Sunny darling,

I thought last month, your one and half month birthday, would be the last monthly installment of these letters. You’re over 1.5 years – with a plural “S!” – for goodness sake.

But then you started calling zippers ‘zippies’ and slippers ‘slippies’ and using your elbow to cover your mouth when you cough just like we taught you (often times you feign coughing just to execute the skilled elbow-cover) and hanging ornaments on the Christmas tree and I could not not document these adorable developments.

Your little voice is by far my most favorite sound in all the Universe. There is no sweeter or more delightful noise. You try on so many more words than ever before, and say them with such confidence. At this rate, you’re learning at least one new word a day. Just this weekend you mastered MONKEY – so you no longer have to refer to your beloved stuffed animal as AH AH AH AH! – ELMO when you received a Tickle-Me-Elmo from your grandparents, your latest obsession – and ZIZI! for your great-grandmother which you sang enthusiastically nearly the whole car ride home after seeing her.

You’ve also mastered the word “No” which must be repeated twice every time you express it. For emphasis, no doubt. Would you like some oatmeal? No no. Cheerios? No no. Banana? No no. It’s turned meal times into a particularly trying exercise. You have very definitive opinions about food, toys, activities, books, etc. and now can fully express a yay or nay response to any questions posed.

Although, honestly, everyone keeps telling me and daddy that we’re spoiled rotten because you’re so well behaved and so cooperative. We ask you if you’re ready for bed or nap, and are fortunate that you are a child that will say yes to these questions. You blissfully curl up under your covers for a snooze. You literally kick with delight as I tuck you into your comforter and wind up your music box, so filled with adoration for sleep are you.

A girl after my own heart.

The fact that you sleep from 7pm until 8:30am on a regular, repeated basis is the envy of all parents of toddlers. We’re trying to not take this incredible sleep stamina for granted.

As I mentioned, this weekend we saw your great grandparents, and both sets of grandparents, and uncles, and aunt and fairy god parents. We gathered together to celebrate you, and hold a weekend in your honor. Since I was not comfortable with us having a traditional Christening for you, as I was not christened and did not feel it appropriate to engage in a ceremony that did not hold meaning or resonance for our family, Daddy and I crafted our own ceremony in your honor. There were many discussions, debates, and even some arguments among family members to arrive at yesterday morning’s events, but when that moment arrived, there was not a dry eye in the house. It was more than your daddy and I could have ever wanted for you.

You behaved like an angel for the entire thing. Honestly, I promise there was no Bendaryll involved in this angelic display. It was as though you sensed that we were all gathered together in that circle for you, and you were mesmerized by that thirty minutes of radiating love. Those closest and dearest to you all shared their hopes, and dreams, and wishes, and promises for you. There were tears of joy and emotion, and it was a positively gorgeous occasion. You, standing in the center of the circle, with each of us orbiting in your grace. Your Doda mentioned this perfect metaphor in his words to you, and I could not put better language to the power and hold you have on each of us. You are the sun.

I will compile all of those precious words that we threaded together for you, and one day you will be able to page through that book and remember that you are loved by generations.

You drank from the sterling silver baby cup that holds the initials and birth years of the first borns of each generation going back to 1840. You became a part of that 170 year legacy with your sip. And then you wore the dress that generations from your great-grandmother’s family have worn, and you perched happily on your Zizi’s lap as we captured photo after photo of that incredible generational display. Your great-grandmother was so pleased that you sat so happily and calmly on her lap for the pictures, and I was so grateful that you chose to restrain your ever moving toddler limbs to preserve the delicate fabric of that garment so that your future siblings and cousins may also wear its history.

Your Momar shared this poem yesterday. And I think it more than adequately speaks to how we all feel.

These are the years, the gentle years,
The soft and sentimental years
When wee little fingers
Reach and touch
And little eyes gaze
With wonder and trust,
When you love so tenderly
And so so much,
These are the gentle years.
These are the years, the rainbow years,
The quiet, walk-on-tiptoes years,
And smiles and sighs
When both of you watch
With misty eyes
The tiny bed
Where a cherub lies,
These are the rainbow years.
These are the years, the tender years,
The blissful, sweet-surrender years,
When your little treasure
From above
Is the soul and purpose
And center of
Your plans and dreams
And dearest love,
These are the tender years.

Happy 19 Months, Sunshine.

143 Mama