Dear Benevolent Dictator --
Sorry about the lack of a report last month. I have no excuse as of late, except that I tend to procrastinate and forget about doing the report. It's a bad habit of mine. Frankly, I'm kind of proud of the fact that I do these reports and they're longer than, "YOU'RE CUTE. STOP SAYING WHY ALL THE DAMN TIME."
Most recently, you've learned how to apologize. Whenever I'm angry at you, you'll say something like, "I sorry Momma. I'm trying to be polite." However, you will apologize, then go back to doing whatever it was that pissed me off in the first place. In short, you now know how to apologize like a politician. It's both hysterical and irritating. You're learning manners, but not the motivation behind them.
As of late, you've really been enjoying coloring and painting. And I'm thankful Crayola makes everything washable. Otherwise our kitchen table (BRAND NEW) would not just be covered in fork gouges (which you did), but also a new paint job.
I think the biggest milestone for me this past couple of months is that you actually jumped on your own. In September, you jumped for the first time. It wasn't big -- maybe a fraction of an inch -- but it took my breath away. Since then, you've been jumping like a little kangaroo, marveling at the fact that you can control your body and take flight for a moment.
Add to this the fact that you run everywhere because you can, and you've got one frazzled mother chasing you everywhere. You've also figured out ways to get around childproofing and my attempts to keep things out of your reach. Perhaps it was a bad idea for me to show you how to push a chair over to the breakfast bar so you could see the computer.
That's how I lost my wedding ring for one day. It didn't help that I spent a day flat on my back thanks to a stomach bug, while your dad cared for you (other than throwing up from overeating, you fared better that day than I did), so I didn't realize I didn't have my wedding ring on for a couple of days. Then when I realized it was missing, I searched all the same familiar places. No ring. I dug through the trash -- which was filled with dirty diapers, coffee grounds and pukey paper towels. No ring.
Then, when I was laying in bed, I flashed back to one day when you were looking with great interest under the stove. I didn't think of anything at the time. But this time it triggered something and I looked under the stove. There, shiny and sparkly was my ring. The most I can fathom is that you were by the laptop, grabbed the ring, it dropped and rolled under the stove.
So I found a new hiding place. Which I figure will last for a few months until your incredible acrobatics force me to find a different resting spot. I think the whole point of this is that it was a perfect illustration of you -- not that you get into trouble, but that you like to investigate and play with things you don't normally have.
I love that curiosity kiddo, but it does keep me on my feet. Which is probably good for me -- resting on my laurels has never been a good idea.