Sunday, October 21, 2012

Today Zoe called her Junebutt

Dear Junebug (or Junebutt),

I'm sorry again that I update this so infrequently. Life is crazy and I'm also old. 37 in a few weeks! 

You are growing up so fast. I can't believe you're almost 19 months old. And before I forget - here are your 18 month old stats: 

Weight: 25.25 lbs (81%)
Height: 33.5 in. (92%)


Right now you are totally trying to be just like your big sister. You see her on the iPad so you've figured out how to navigate around it. You grab it say, "Mine!" ELMO!" and find your way to the PBS kids app. Like a boss. 

You are also learning how to run. It is so cute I could die but is resulting in quite a lot of falling and scraping your poor little palms. 

One of my favorite things that you do right now is you laugh this funny little "he he ... he he" laugh when you're going to get something you want like chocolate or a yogurt or to nurse. It's the best. 

I'm surprised, I have to say, that your humor is so sophisticated. The other night your dad went to a Die Antwoord concert in Lawrence and I stayed home with you guys so you slept with me (you normally sleep with him and I sleep in Zoe's room) and you woke up at 3am and pulled on my shirt (your usual signal that you want to nurse) and you said, "MOO". Um? Really? We're going there, huh? Some people have said that you should stop nursing when your child is old enough to argue with about it. I guess one could argue that you should stop nursing when your child is old enough to make fun of you for being like a dairy cow. Still, we're nursing until you're 2. Lucky kid.

You are talking quite a bit. It's cracking me up the things you say, though. You don't say any of your sibling's names but you say Elmo and Dora. You say the same thing for outside, iPad and all done. It sounds like "Ah-thoo". Your most favorite word is NO. You've got that one down. You say wa-wa-wa-wa for water. You don't say yes, but you say "yeah". You've got all the animal sounds down although you always say "neigh" for unicorns and zebras but I'm not sure I can correct those so let's just go with it. You say baby, pee-pee, up, buckle, mine, apple, and I'm sure a lot of other words that I can't think of right now. 

In a few weeks we're going to visit your Aunt Jess is France Cancisco (as your sister says). I am super excited to see her but I'm worried you won't sleep. You're not a fan. You sleep the best for your dad, but he's not going. Wah.

Travis says you're a lot like he was - you're totally rascally. Every time we go over to Liz's, you dig up her plants and sneak into her room and put toothpaste all around her phone. You pull stuff out of the garbage, draw on the floor with crayons, and climb up on the toilet and grab sunscreen out of the cabinet and squirt all over the floor. But we really can't be mad at you because you have the sweetest little curious demeanor - you're all, "what? hey! I'm just growing my brain over here. Just a little explorer." And you have this thing you do where you cock your head to one side and smile this sly little "you know you love me to pieces" smile. It's pretty awesome.

You are so much fun, little Bean. I love that every single day I get to wake to your little "ooh - I get to nurse!" laugh when your Dad brings you in to me. You make me so, so happy. I love you so much sometimes I think I might freak out.