Dear Cadence, Month 33

Dear Cadence,

As I begin this, you are sitting next to me on the couch, petting, hugging, and kissing Lily, and giggling as she gets feisty and begins to playfully bat and gently bite your hands. You are so amazingly wonderful, little bug - you make me so unbelievably happy. That's what I am these days: Happy. We have an amazing family here, you, me, baba and the cats...and very soon, our brand new little one. It just feels so...right.

Chances are that by the time I write you another letter, your little baby brother or sister will have arrived and changed our lives in the way that only new babies can. It's going to be hard, and probably scary sometimes, and it's going to be stressful and there are going to be trials that we can't possibly fathom from this side of the timeline...but it's also going to be wonderful, welcoming a new life and new love into our family, our home. We have a strong base, are in a good place to take on this new challenge, one that I fully believe will be unbelievably fulfilling and beneficial to all of us.

I am excited for both you and the new baby that you will have a sibling - someone who, even if you don't always get along, even if you lead very different lives, is an ally in some way. Someone else grew up in the home you did, someone understands, to an extent, what that means and what it was like. Someone who will be able to push your buttons, get under your skin, and make you think in ways no one else can. Someone who will, barring unforeseen tragedy, be there long after Baba and I have passed on. Seeing how much comfort my mom has taken in her brother and sister since her own parents passed - even though the three of them don't always see eye to eye, and rarely see one another - I think having that kind of family around, that support, is so important. My own sister has often shocked me in ways that make me remember to love life, and all it has to offer. And Baba's siblings have been a steady comfort to him in rough times, in ways deeper than he knows how to communicate. For all these reasons - and, also, because it's just fun to have someone around to play with, bicker with, learn and explore with - we are glad to be giving you - BOTH of you - a team mate...which I am sure means that, in not too long, you'll find a way to join forces against us. Or at the very least, our sanity. And I couldn't be more glad.

You are already such a good big sister, though you still insist that you're just a big girl now, and will be a big sister when the baby actually comes out. Which, while true on one level, isn't, if only because I can feel the baby's reactions to you - your voice, your touch on my belly, your numerous hugs and kisses - and this kid knows you. And physically seeks out your cheek when you press it against my stomach. The kicks move to meet your hands, and search when your voice is close but you aren't touching....Baba's hands on my belly calm this kid down in no time, soothed comforted, and satisfied...but with you, I can feel the energy quicken, like this little one wants to play, and can't wait to take you up on your many offers to hold hands or play with you, all the fun stuff you talk about doing together once s/he comes out.

And I'm sure you will both have a blast. I can't wait to see how you adapt to life as a role model and friend. You have so much to offer the new baby...and me, and baba, and yourself, and really this whole world! You've grown so much recently, sometimes it's hard to keep up, but you've been keeping us on our toes for sure.

We've spent a significant amount of time this month blowing bubbles. BIG bubbles! LOTS of bubbles! and you shriek and chase after them and giggle when they pop in your hair, or in my face. And then there is all the time you spend being a kitty, with SHARP CLAWS!!!! (which you'll demonstrate by gently pressing your fingernails into whatever exposed body part is nearest to you...me leg, baba's face...you are careful, and never actually hurt us, but you display all the danger you know comes with sharp claws pretty accurately, and then show your responsibility by retracting them and being a sweet kitty.)

You've also upped the ante on your tendency to catch people so that they can't leave. Especially in the mornings when Baba is trying to get out the door to make it to class on time...you will often jump up, dash after him, hug his leg tightly and declare "Got! now you can't go." This little game has, admittedly, been more effective than one might expect, and has had a slightly detrimental effect on Baba's ability to make it to class in a timely manner. Especially since you get SO SAD if whoever you've "got" doesn't play along, at least for a couple minutes. You have power, and I think you know it. We are in so much trouble.

Which brings me to a few more points, regarding your intelligence, thoughtfulness, and explorations into the world of ideas. You are gaining a sort of thoughtfulness that makes for some very interesting conversations, and quite often makes baba and I actually think and reexamine our own answers to your many insightful questions. Whether it's because you've asked us why we have cheeks, (or butts, or lips, or feet, etc) or whether we're joining you on an imaginary adventure, you're constantly displaying your ability to think and make connections on your own, and now to invent your own ideas. Ideas about how the world should work, or inventing 'realistic' creatures...you have a brilliant mind and it's very exciting to see it at work, even if half of what you say seems like sheer silliness, if you take a minute to think about how you came to this conclusion or what's behind the creation of that character...it's really quite remarkable.

The other morning, when I was still groggy and not quite ready to get out of bed, you decided to take me on a trip to the zoo along our bedroom wall. "I'm Kate the mama, you're my big girl Cadence, and we're at the zoo! do you wanna see some creepy seahorses?" As you pointed to various 'enclosures' in the wall, you introduced me to the inhabitants, which started with those creepy seahorses, and branched out from there. "This is a creature kinda like a seahorse, but not really." You pointed out some Vumps. Vumps? "A Vump is a creature with a butt." and there was also the bug called a Mama Gunk Bug.

On another occasion, while we were using the potty, you took your underwear off completely instead of just pulling them down, so I asked you: "Did you take your big girl pants off because they're dirty, or just to get them out of the way?" Your somewhat incredulous response: "Just to get them out of the way, mama, I have to take them off to get to the pee that needs to come out! That's how it works!"

(Speaking of potty...the big new development for the month came with the purchase of a great new step-stool which lets you get onto the potty all by yourself. With that addition, and some help from a new paper-towel-turned-toilet-paper stand, you have officially achieved Bathroom Independence! You can do it all yourself now, Baba and I no longer need to assist you in any part of the process, which means you can run off and use the potty without even telling us you need to...you use it, wipe, flush, and wash your hands - with soap - all on your own. Amazing. I think we're all adjusting to this surprisingly big step!)

Your confidence is growing too, and you're much more willing to assert yourself when you know something to be true. Like the other day, we were watching Sesame Street and they were exploring habitats. At one point, just when the show was asking what an environment where an animal lived was called, Carmen came over to us, and I scooped her up into a hug and playfully turned to you and said "have-a-cat?" pronouncing it as closely to the word "habitat" as I could, and while you seemed to get and appreciate the joke, you lovingly corrected me by saying sweetly, with a slight tilt of the head: "no mom, it's a aptitat!"

Your arguments are getting more sophisticated by the day, too. This is probably not the best example of this, but it is one of the cuter ones: I don't entirely remember the context for how the conversation got started, suffice it to say we were playing together and generally being silly.

ME: Should I bite your butt?

YOU: No, it's not food, and it's in my pants, so you shouldn't eat my pants when my butt's in them.

ME: But I can eat your pants if you're not wearing them?

YOU: Yes.

This, again, is one of those goofy conversations that, when actually analyzed, shows a surprising amount of thought backing it up. You didn't care if I bit or ate your pants, but since your butt was not something that should be bitten or eaten, I shouldn't bite or eat your pants if you were wearing them. Priorities, one thing taking precedence over another...Your butt was more important than the pants, therefore, even though it would normally be ok to do something destructive to the pants, it was not ok to do so in the given context. There are still some adults who can't figure that kind of stuff out.

You have the unbridled honesty that only a two year old can have. Part of me is going to be really sad when you learn to humor people more deliberately, because for now, even though it is sometimes ruffling to hear, your honesty is really refreshing, and easy to work with. If you tell me you like or don't like something, it helps me learn what will work in the future; if you tell me something doesn't work, I know to fix it, and if you tell me you're happy, I don't need to worry. I know that eventually you'll learn to keep secrets and manipulate the truth, so for now I'll enjoy it, even when it means that you lean over to look at the picture you've just asked me to draw and comment "oh, it's kinda crappy."

(though, it does get a little confusing sometimes when you're trying out new vocabulary words. While I think that, generally speaking, you're pretty cool with the whole mammalian reproductive process of growing the child in the womb, you said to me the other day: "I can't believe you are carrying a baby around in your belly mom. That's so Abhorring.")

Oh little lady! There is just so much about you that is inexplicably awesome, and which overwhelms me on a daily basis. As much as you, and your routines -and life - change, (like remember how you and Baba used to light smellies every night before bed? Incense or a scented candle? You even had a special lighter with a fish on it, you'd pick a smelly from the box and we'd let it waft through the room while we sang you to sleep, and then extinguish the flame...and now you instead pick a nature sound out on baba's ipod, which lulls you to sleep after we've read you a story and left the room? You grow up too fast) some things are ever present. The part of you I can't pinpoint on the page is one of those things...your uncannily sweet, thoughtful self...Just, YOU. The you that is there whether you're deliberately defying us or preempting what we may ask, the part that doesn't change when your courage has been shaken, the devious little soul that I love so very much...

The other day, we were sitting on a bench in a subway station, and a baby started crying somewhere down the platform. You asked me why the baby was crying, and I responded that I didn't know. You fell quiet for a moment, pondering, and then looked up at me and said: "I think that baby's crying because she wants to sit down with her mama. Can I sit in your lap so they can sit down, too?"

I mean really, Cadence, you're two years old. Whatever happened to the "terrible twos?" You're hearing someone in distress, deducing what the problem might be, theorizing a solution and sacrificing what you have in order to realize it...there is nothing terrible about you, at all, in any way.

Which is, in part, why I am not at all surprised (though very happy and proud!) that you were admitted to the Blue School for next fall. I am so excited for you! And you are so excited too! you talk about it all the time! You tell everyone: The blue school is going to be your school, and you'll get to go to class and the teacher will help you learn stuff, and there will be other kids there, and they can be your friends, and then you'll all grow up tall together and learn even more cool stuff and come home and be with mama and baba and the new baby and it will be so much fun, but sometimes it'll be hard and that's ok...and you'll go to class all by yourself to learn and then come home! Your exuberance is downright contagious, and I feel like sending you to this place, which you clearly seem to feel a connection to, is really the right choice. and I mean, aside from how great a school we think it is, if absolutely nothing else, THERE WILL BE OTHER KIDS for you to meet and play with...and that is just a huge, wonderful, relish-able fact, and none of us can wait for the start of the semester because of it...but then again, it's not like there won't be plenty of huge momentous events between now and then...so I think we'll all survive.

Oh, and my last word there brings me to another weighty subject that has been rather prominent this month. We were sitting in the living room the other day and something - presumably a cat, though no one saw the actual culprit - knocked something over on the other side of the table. After all the "what was that!" proclamations and questions had settled, you told me that you thought it was Puppalina. I pointed out that Puppalina wasn't here, which lead to a rather unexpected, surprisingly in depth discussion of death, and what it means to die, and the implications that had for living and what it meant for those left alive when a loved one dies. We talked about Pup-pup, of course, but we also discussed Grandpa Ed, and how he'd looked in his coffin, and what was different about him then, and about Baba's Wai Po, who's funeral you attended when you were quite young. I'm not sure why this is all hitting home right now, I guess you were just developmentally ready to learn about mortality more tangibly, and you drew on all the experiences with it you had already gone through...We cried together, and talked about how that was OK too, experiencing all the emotions that come with grief. You've brought up the subject many times since then, clearly working through your understanding of this very profound fact of life, and much to my gladness, it doesn't seem to be a fearful subject for you.

And true to form, you've taken the idea you got from my words and made it your own, putting your own spin on it. I overheard you telling Andrew the other day: "I don't know when we're going to die, but then someone will plant us." I hope you keep asking about these things, sweetheart, and that you are never afraid to talk to us about the big subjects. I love you so much...I can't tell you how overwhelming it is to contemplate death and you in the same headspace, and throw into the mix that you're interest in death coincides with the birth of your new sibling...Sometimes nature is just so present that you have no choice but to sit back and let go, because there is nothing we can do about it. We can trust, we can surrender, we can find peace.

For now, we are going to go right on drinking in and enjoying every moment of life, from your latest grammatical quirk ("Well..." you say before half of your responses, "Well, I was just going to..." "well, I don't really want to," "well, I think I need some help..." and you tilt your head slightly to the side and made a single-sided scrunched up face to indicate the character of the "well"...) to your new habit of climbing into the bay window in the living room, closing the curtains, and then bursting through them to perform grand shows, singing wonderful songs and sometimes even inviting guests onto the stage. And being as present as we possibly can, to make sure we make the most of every moment.

I love you so much Cadie Bug, my wonderful, amazing little lady. There is nothing I can ever say that will truly express how deeply I love you; but I hope that you can feel it solidly enough that I will never need to resort to inadequate words to describe it. Know, as we welcome the new baby in the next few weeks, that as much as I will love (and already do love) that baby, nothing - NOTHING - can ever take away from how much I love you. You will always be my sweet baby.

Let's do this, Cadence. Let's embark on this next adventure hand in hand. (You've already told me that you want to help me while I'm having the new baby, said you didn't know how, exactly, but that if I was scared, you'd give me lots of hugs and kisses and would tell me that it's alright. YOU ARE TOO AWESOME.) You and me and Baba and the kitties, and all of our amazingly wonderful families...we can do this, and make life great! As you used to say all the time: ONWARD!!

Love always,

Mama

Probably not actually published by the MTA...

Seen in the 14th St ACE/L station in Manhattan. This is how NYers deal with upsetting changes: We get snarky.

(for those not familiar: this is the exact style & format of formal MTA service change notices...the letters in the circles would normally indicate which lines were being affected, and the rest would detail what changes were happening, why, and how to work around it.)

Welcome to the Blue School

There is big news this week, which we are proud to share with you all:

Congratulations to Cadence on being accepted into the Blue School!

This is wonderful news, and we are so proud of our little lady. She was chosen from a pool of (I believe) 300+ applicants this year, all competing for somewhere between 20 - 40 spots. This is big, since it means that Cadie's school career will begin this coming fall, as she joins the 3s class, and she will have the option of continuing on with the same group of peers through at least the fifth grade, possibly even the eighth...

I can't stress enough what an amazing break this is, for all of us. I have ranted about it before, but the climate surrounding admission to kindergarten here in NYC is absolutely ridiculous (a friend of mine is about to release a film he made on the process, inspired by his own experience of trying to find the right place for his son, entitled The Kindergarten Shuffle...check it out! ) Basically getting into kindergarten in this city is on par with getting into an ivy league college...and kids need to have about as many credentials. There is, then, runoff into preschool competition and even pre-preschool expectations...some of the places I looked at require resumes, school reports with grades and multiple teacher recommendations FOR TWO YEAR OLDS!! I was utterly astounded. It is recommended that families who have never been a part of this rat race before apply to between 8 -10 different schools (if you have an older sibling already in attendance, families need only apply to between 6-8). Public schools are mostly done by lottery, private schools each have their own admissions process and criteria...and sadly, there is not enough supply to meet the demand, so many families are still unable to secure anything and are left to homeschool, or just wait to be tossed into first grade - the first level required by law. There are a lot of political and social implications to this that I won't get into here, suffice it to say that the ripple effect from this 'kindergarten culture' can be felt through elementary, middle, even high school, and almost perversely becomes a defining moment in the ultimate outcomes of many kids' educational careers.

Anyway, the year we spent in Kentucky, where the climate is much less fierce, left us 'behind' upon our return to NYC. Long story involving lots of exhaustive research short, we made the bold decision that the only place that fit our family well enough to be worth the stress and effort of applying this year was the Blue School. We figured that getting into a place that really fit us to a T was worth trying for, and if we didn't get in, we would spend the year trying to make up for lost time and building our credentials so that, come next season's application process, we'd be in a much more competitive position.

Honestly, I'd been very worried about going through - and dragging Cadence through - everything that being involved in the process would entail - especially given how ERB testing and various other rigors have become commonplace, even necessary, in securing a place in any kindergarten...and with our acceptance letter, it all, magically, disappeared. Once you're in at the Blue School, at any level, you're in for as long as you want to be...and she's in! She won't need to be subjected to tests, to countless interviews and maybes and dealing with the here and there and stressed out parents trying to make it all happen...and this could even save Baby Yu #2 from that race, as siblings are given priority, and though they don't guarantee admission, it's more likely than not that they would not leave out a family member, when so much of their philosophy centers on family involvement.

It's expensive, but I think it's truly worth it. This school is amazing and wonderful and I encourage all of you to check it out, even if you don't have kids...their approach to the idea of education is at the forefront, and having a new generation growing up under its influence can only be a benefit to society as a whole.

So...GO CADENCE!! You are certainly an exceptional little lady. :-) We can't wait to start this new adventure with you!

For Julie & Eric: A Mostly Charlie Post

Who's that peaking over Cadie's cute little bum?

Why, it's Charlie of course!

Charlie is the big-hearted pup that Cadence and I (and occasionally James, too!) get to spend time with each (week)day. He's an overgrown Yorkie, which makes him just the right size to romp around with Cadence in a fairly even match. They love to play and bounce together, play tug of war, and occasionally they even let me play, too.

(I love how viscous he looks in that photo-but it's all camera magic, I assure you. Aside from showing a very surprised School of Visual Arts student what he thought of her work by peeing on her sculpture during our walk the other day, he's just a big (for a Yorkie) sweetheart.)

See?

Cadence took the above picture. Not bad, huh? Charlie had been standing on my shoulder, but stepped off just as she hit the button.

Who do YOU think is winning?

Kisses!

So, as I alluded to before, much like Cadence, Charlie loves to bounce. He jumps and leaps and flips and does all sorts of strange acrobatic feats when we play...he loves it, but I fear for the state of his poor hips and knees a few years down the line! See for yourself:

Yes, that is Charlie ABOVE the couch. Aia.

But Charlie is just one member of this amazing household. Although we almost never see them, his 'parents' Julie and Eric are also remarkably generous and thoughtful people. We met them through Eric's cousin Brittany, who I've talked about here before, she's one of our best friends from Kentucky, and her daughter Kate is one of Cadence's closest friends.

They have been very good to us, trusting us with their beloved dog, and being patient with our sudden absenteeism when all the badness happened last year with my grandfather passing and my hospitalization and subsequent retreat to KY all in rapid succession. Though they did have to find someone else after the drama dragged on for too long, the fact that they then took us back on once things had settled down a few months later really meant a lot.

And then, the other day, Cadence and I arrived for our daily walk to find a lovely note from Julie alerting us to the presence of some, well, presents for us! In a totally unnecessary but unbelievably sweet gesture, they had put together a gender-nuetral care package for Mama, Baba, and the new baby full of all sorts of wonderful things from wipes to a sweater to temperature-reading ducks and so much more.

And, of course, (and as if that wasn't enough!) there was a separate gift there for a certain Big Girl...a Congratulations on becoming a Big Sister gift, which was perfect. Julie indicated in her note that she had hoped to find a puppy that looked like Charlie, but I think what they found was just right:

Cadence named the puppy Domnayno, and has been carrying her around and taking her to bed with her every night. She wouldn't even put her down while she and Charlie played that afternoon:

So we owe many many thanks to Julie, Eric, and Charlie for all of their love and support over these past few months - we are unspeakably grateful.

See you tomorrow, Charlie!

Dear Cadence, Month 32

Dear Cadence,

This has been such a happy month, which is wonderful to be able to say, if only just for the contrast to so many sad or depressing updates I had to provide in the latter half of last year. We've all been having such a blast! I know you miss having friends your age around, and I honestly really do, too...but even with that, we've been keeping so busy - and been busy seeing other people, even if they are grown ups - that even that hasn't been too big a sore spot.

Let's see, where to start? As usual, so much has happened and you've grown so much that it's hard to know where to begin!

Early this month, we had a really big day: it was a TRIPLE holiday! February 14th this year marked not only Valentine's day and Baba's birthday, but it was also Chinese new year! We welcomed the year of the tiger (have I mentioned how I'm kind of excited that the new baby is going to be born in the year of the Tiger? You love tigers so much and they have become such an integral part of our familial lexicon/symbology that it just feels so right to welcome your new sibling in the year of the tiger.) with a remarkably fun filled day.

We don't usually do much in the way of recognizing Valentine's so that didn't play a huge part in our personal festivities, but boy did you like seeing all the people out and about with pink balloons, hearts, flowers, and smiles! We focused mostly on Baba's birthday, as we usually do, and it was a big one.

It was his 25th, the quarter century mark, and he'd never had a really big party before...so you and I worked together with some very generous help from friends and family, to throw him a big surprise party! I was a little reluctant to give you too much detail, for fear that you'd be so excited you'd tell Baba...but you did seem to more or less get what was happening - you even agreed to let me tell baba that you wanted to go ice skating with him for his birthday, despite the fact that you "only wanted to a little bit" and "kind of" thought it would be fun. But it ended up working perfectly, and it was a great party, with lots of fun all around.

We brought him to Chelsea Piers under the auspices of going ice skating, and while we were there we 'just happened' to run into our friend Derrick and his girlfriend Mariand. After ice skating for a while, they invited us to go bowling...and when we arrived at the chelsea piers bowling alley/club, about 20 of Baba's friends were waiting with pizza, hot wings, balloons, and lots of love.

You were an awesome helper, and seemed very proud of your Baba. You bowled along with everyone else, choosing different helpers and giving it your all - you even got a strike!! We were all very proud of both you and Baba, and Baba was very surprised and seemed very, very happy. He even let you keep all the balloons, tied to the shiny black bowling pin we all (you, too!) signed in fancy silver marker.

After the party was all done, your Nainai and Yeye came and picked up Baba, Audrey, Andrew, you and I, and we drove out to Baba's Er Yi's house for a big dinner in celebration of the new year. And what a blast you had! You spent your time literally going from lap to lap all the way around the table, visiting great aunts and uncles and cousins along the way. You danced and sang and chatted and ate lots of good food, and seemed to really love getting to know your extended family. You berated us on the lack of lanterns, and even got to stomp in the deep Queens snow. It was an extravagant night, and lots of fun was had by all.

Your sense of imagination is growing, which is very exciting and sometimes baffling to follow. There was more than one occasion this month where you informed us: "I died in the sun, but just a little bit." And your games of pretend have become epically elaborate, and major elements (like what role we are supposed to be playing) can sometimes change quickly and seamlessly without interrupting the flow of your play in the least...it's the closest thing I have found to the changing realities in dreams. It's exciting and fascinating to accompany you on these journeys!

Here's an example of one of your more cohesive games: The three of us were eating dinner the other night when you struck up a game of pretend; in which you were the mama, and both baba and I were your big girls. At one point, both of us (as your children) wanted you to pick us up and carry us to wherever it was we were going, and neither of us (as parents) could have predicted how you would handle the situation. You told Baba that since he had asked first, you would carry him (her? this is confusing to write out), and then you told me that you'd gone to the store and bought me a pair of brand new shoes to wear, since I had to walk. You presented them to me as a privilege more than a compensation, but it was quite creative. Then I asked what would happen if I got tired of walking, and you revealed that in fact you had gotten another pair of shoes for Baba big girl, too, and when Mama big girl got too tired to walk, she would give Baba big girl her special brand new shoes and pick Mama big girl up, so we'd switch, both with the same incentives the other had received. And then you threw in there that you'd gotten us toys, too, and began bestowing them upon us. It was great fun.

It's also pretty amazing to watch you navigate life with your ever-growing understanding of social rules. You have discovered the grey area between right and wrong...or at least, the way that you can feel that something might be wrong but you want to get away with it anyhow. Now, when you want to get away with something, you'll turn to me or Baba and say "don't say anything!" I'm sure you'll eventually figure out that this alerts us to whatever it is you're doing that you don't want us to stop you from, but for now it is an incredibly endearing quirk that shows off your developing conscience.

You love being able to influence your surroundings these days, delighting in turning things on and off, flipping switches, closing and opening doors (a new skill!! You can actually reach well enough to truly turn the doorknob now, not just doors with convenient handles), and insisting that we "keep the light on" which involves always having the caps lock on the keyboard at all times.

One of the biggest changes we've experienced this month has been the Demise of Naptime. The jury is still out on whether this is a good thing or not. We went from last month, when you finally figured out falling asleep on your own, to this month suddenly not sleeping during the day at all. Even if you lay down, you'll lay there quietly playing for an hour and a half or so, and finally ask to just get up and go to bed early. There has been some mildly increased fussiness in the evenings, but for the most part it hasn't seemed to mess with you too much...you seem to prefer going to bed earlier and waking up at your usual time, which means you're getting the same amount of sleep, so really, it's had a bigger effect on Baba and I, and our routines, than it has on you and yours. Suddenly we have no daytime hours at all to work without interruptions or nap ourselves, and it's somewhat jarring...we were not at all prepared for naps to suddenly disappear just yet. There is some residual hope that it will come back - because what am I going to do with a newborn who doesn't sleep during the night and a toddler who doesn't sleep during the day!? I love you and want to continue to follow your lead in terms of allowing for your development, but this one has come as a bit of a surprise. We'll see how things end up playing out, I guess...maybe the new baby will change your routine, too, and we'll all start sleeping when the baby sleeps...or maybe that's wishful thinking on my part.

Speaking of the new baby, we're still in search of a name, but you have relented in your endless insistence that the only acceptable name for the baby is Colin, mostly due to a conversation we had the other day, which was cute for many reasons. It went like this:

Me: "Should we name this baby Colin or are you going to use the name Colin when you grow up and have your own baby?"

You: "When I grow up, my baby's name is going to be Kate" Me: "like me and your friend Kate?"

You: "uh-huh."

Me: "What if the baby is a boy? Kate's probably not the best name for a boy. "

You: "Well, my baby is gonna be a boy, but when he comes, I'm going to name him James, just like my Pop."

Me: "Your Pop? You mean Baba?"

You: "Yup. My Pop."

The weather has been rapidly warming up lately, which has lead to another awesome little quirk. It's been getting hot in our apartment, which has lead to a decent number of discussions about being overheated. You seem to totally get what this means, except that you have your own unique - and, we think, quite fitting - way of describing the condition. You will often explain why you've removed your clothes or inquire after our comfort by starting discussions on the state of being "onheated." We totally love it.

The one thing that has really come to light this month that I'm not particularly happy about has actually been a long time coming - a gradual change that has been lurking for a while now, but it hasn't been until now that I could really pinpoint what it is that has been happening. In keeping with your prematurely teenage disposition, you have of late become extremely negative towards any kind of compliment or positive reinforcement we may offer. Getting compliments or being told that you are correct almost invariably results in you becoming extremely embarrassed, the vulnerability in which makes you burst into tears or lash out angrily, often leading to you storming off in a weepy rage asking "somebody just leave me alone."

This means that we have mostly stopped being so enthusiastic about your accomplishments...as much as I would like to squeal and congratulate you on each new achievement, you would prefer it if we just let it slide like, yeah, whatever, she can do that, totally. You thought she couldn't? pfft, it's kid's stuff. Not even worth mentioning.

And I can respect that, I guess, except that it means that our parenting has become far more about the negative these days. There is a time when I remember realizing that I had been employing a philosophy of "not" with you as an older infant - I would never say "no" flat out, but would rather try to offer an alternative to whatever I was denying, or at least an explanation as to 'why not'...and I have continued to try to do this, but without the ability to give you positive reinforcement, all I'm left with is the negative...and "not" or not, it's still just that- negative...I feel like all we ever do these days is to tell you don't do this or that's not okay, or not here, not now, not yet...it makes me feel really mean that now, especially as you're getting older and understand more and test and push boundaries so much more, we speak sternly and send you limiting messages and disciplinary measures so much more often, and yet we have none of the positive reinforcement and uplifting messages to go with it, balance it out. Believe me, the desire to praise you up and down is most certainly there, but even offers of high fives send you into disappointed rages, so we try to sneak in subtle praises where we can but respect your desire not to be called out. I hope this phase passes quickly, because I miss celebrating with you, and really don't like feeling like such an antagonist.

But, like I said, despite this frustration on my end, this has been an exciting, happy, and enjoyable month. On of the biggest highlights came just yesterday, when we all got to meet Eavan, Kir and Patrick's daughter, for the first time! She's about a month old...for the last couple weeks you'd been asking to watch the videos Patrick posted on his Vimeo account, all featuring Eavan, over and over and over...you loved seeing the baby!

It was exciting to see you interacting with a new baby, especially since we're so close to the arrival of our own little one. You were totally enamored, and were perfectly gentle and sweet and loving towards her. They even let you hold her, with supervision of course, and I think it just further confirmed and inspired your idea of what it was going to be like to be a big sister. There will still be some rude surprises, I imagine, since there is no off switch or time limit on a new baby, and with our own we won't be visiting and then returning her to her parents, as was the case with little Eavan...a totally wonderful little lady in her own right, such a sweet and very cute little kid!! You didn't want to say goodbye. It was so nice to get to meet her, and to see our friends...and getting to see you interacting with a little baby was just a nice bonus.

Our days, now that we're done with the desk job, are spent walking Charlie and cleaning the house, playing endless games of pretend, drawing, identifying letters and numbers (most of the ones used to label trains are old hat, now we're moving on to remembering what sounds each letter makes), playing with the kitties and reading books books and more books...Yup, it's pretty wonderful.

Thanks for being my awesome little lady, sweetiebug. I love you SO SO SO much.

Love Always,

Mama

Moments in Parenting

Cadence just dropped five roles of electrical tape into her glass of chocolate soymilk, realized her error, declared "oh no!" and dumped the contents out in an attempt to fix the mistake.

Somehow it's all canceled out by her then looking up at me very earnestly and saying: "Oh, I'm so sorry, mom!"