March 03, 2013
It’s three dimensions this month. You’ve gone vertical, realizing that the world does not just consist of the floor on which you run around. From chairs, to the couch, to the ladders at the park, benches, and bathroom drawers, you’re climbing, climbing, climbing. You’re still working on getting back down once you’re up, On our bed, you grab onto the sheets to allow yourself to rappel off the edge of the bed. You’re even chaining the climbing together, climbing up the slide to climb over onto the couch. Naturally, you being up on everything means that nothing’s safe. We can’t leave anything on the table, and you’ve even zipped open the couch throw pillows to start taking out the stuffing.
That said, you are listening to Mommy and Daddy much better every day. It helps immensely that you both know what you want and you can communicate that to us. You know what you want, and that comes to Molly, too. You throw the ball for her, and if she doesn’t run to get it, you’ll walk over to her, push on her, and say “get it!”. It makes for many other humorous situations, too. I walked in to find you fussing in your crib after nap, and the following conversation ensued:
Seth: Points to our room “Mommy!”.
Daddy: I pick him up, “Don’t you want to see Daddy?”.
Seth: “No. Mommy.” Points again.
On the other hand, we’re also force to remind you to duck and that, “hitting your head on it a third time won’t change anything.” I can see that it’s going to take time to teach you to think a little bit ahead about what you’re doing, rather than just diving in. Because, you know, your dad has that all figured out after 29 years.
On the way to the park, you made mommy’s week and validated all the things she repeats to you over and over. Each time we go to the edge of the road, Mommy reminds you that, “Seth, you stop and get picked up, and then we look both ways for cars, and cross the street. While we’re crossing, we look and listen for cars.” You stopped at the curb instead of walking out into the street and put your arms up to be picked up. You then looked both ways unprompted as we crossed and said “Car!” as a car appeared around a distant corner.
Mommy’s doing great teaching in the common sense department. All the other departments, too, as you count to 10 (when you feel like it, and skipping a few numbers), and fill in missing words in your books. Daddy’s teaching you that Marie Callendar’s for dinner means eating leftover apple pie for breakfast. It’s a good thing you have Mommy.
Your little voice makes our house a joyful place, from requests to “spin” in Daddy’s desk chair, to requests for “apai” (papaya) for lunch. Pretty soon, it’s going to be little sentences, and then even more, asking “why?” and wanting to learn. Our prayer is that you’ll never have to ask “who is Jesus?”; may you learn about Him from what we say and do each day as you grow. Love you lots, Seth. Can’t wait for each tomorrow with you.