Oh what a difference a month can make. With a new set of healthy ears and nary a snotty nose in sight you have taken on the world full force. (Like there is any other way?) Your biggest milestone so far in your tiny life was one I had been dreading for awhile now.
You got your hair cut.
Okay, I know it’s silly, but that big mess of curls you sport became your trademark and I was beginning to think of the old bible story about Samson – if we cut your hair you’d lose your powers of cute. Man, was I wrong. I’ll admit you didn’t look quite like yourself right after it happened – the beautician used some mousse on you (which, really? HUH?), but shortly you began to become Benjamin again and charmed the pants off everyone. And, for the record, you didn’t enjoy yourself, but you were a real trooper and are now more handsome than ever.
You continue to go to speech therapy and have the best time there. Because they do play therapy you have no idea you are actually “working” on your language and you think it’s just another cool gymnasium for you to attack. Your newest words are, not surprisingly, “outside”, “puppy”, “meat” and “MINE!” (yes, pronounced just like that). When you get excited about something you start going through a litany of people you know who, apparently, must be informed RIGHT NOW about said excitement. It goes a little something like this:
Me: Benjamin! Look! A frog on the couch!
Benjamin: OOH! Daddy! Mommy! Sissy! Zayde! Go-Dee (Go, Diego, Go!)
We’re not sure how Diego became part of the Circle of Trust, but there he is.
Like every other month, you seemed to have contracted some small tushie-bug and your diapers are not only LOVELY, but irritating your delicateness. The pediatrician suggested we let you run around with no diaper on outside and I thought that was an excellent idea. We had such success before –and such awesome pictures. It did, indeed, help and I got these cute pictures in return.
In other small news, on the playground you only want to slide on the Big Slides. At the Little Gym you want to hang from the bars. You don’t want to hold my hand on a walk. You prefer to get your own snack from the pantry. You loved to get splashed with water – in the tub or not. You love bubbles – but prefer eating the wand to learning how to blow them.
When we go to the grocery store you want to eat a banana while I shop. You have finally stopped asking for the damned DVD player in my car to be on ALWAYS and have started letting me listen to some music. Occasionally I sneak in an Opie and Anthony replay, but now that you’re starting to listen and repeat words, that’s not such a good plan any more.
You don’t want to walk on the balance beam or flip over the bar. You think my hair dryer is going to eat me. You must sleep with four stuffed Sesame Street friends and one stuffed fireman in bed with you. You think strawberries are gifts from G-d (you are totally spot on there). As far as you’re concerned, The Swimmy’s friends are your friends, too, and you should get to play with them always.
Last week was your last week of school. Today starts the Mommy and Benjamin show and we’ve done pretty well together so far. I have no idea what tomorrow will look like, but you and I make good adventurers.
And you, my little man, are one serious adventure all by yourself.
I love you,