You are in the 50% of height and 5% of weight. Seems we need to fatten you up a bit, you little bird you. Although Dr. Ayer is not overly concerned about it, she did say it wouldn’t hurt to add plenty of Olive Oil, butter, and fatty dairy products to your diet. I’m on it.

Some remarkable things about you:

You love to eat water. It’s quite unusual, Dr Ayer confirmed, for a child of your age to want to put your face in water. She says usually it’s their feet they want in water, but not you, my heart, you want your face in it. And only your face. When we water the lawn and have you in our arms you dive for that stream of water like some dehydrated animal. In the bath you squat down and try to get your face in the puddle below you, and when you do, you dart up with this crazy astonished look on our face like you had no idea THAT would happen. Then you do it again. You used to inhale when you did this and it scared the crap out of me, but now you have figured out that it’s more fun holding your breath. Smart kid, you are. In so many ways.

You understand SO MUCH. I asked if you wanted to take Stella (the name of your new soft baby doll which is also the name of your BFF in Sedona, by the way) with us to the Doctor today and you looked right at her and grabbed her leg. In the car I asked you where Stella’s feet were and you showed them to me. Then I asked you where your feet were and you grabbed yours. I don’t know much about babies Pony, but I think you are pretty amazing to do that. And belly, you love your belly. And slapping mine and Dada’s. You knew where your ears and nose was tonight in the bath. And then I swear to God I thought I heard you yell Stella after me in the car on the way home. I was screaming it like Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire and I could have sworn you repeated it after me, not only once, but twice.

I read somewhere today that you are now officially a TODDLER. No more baby. Wow. A toddler. What does that mean other than you toddle around? To toddle means to go on a leisurely walk. There is nothing leisurely about you. You are full of ambition and drive getting from one place to another although you do stop to sniff the flowers or whatever dried food you find on the floor left over from when you threw it off your high chair. I was chasing you around downstairs tonight after the bath, your little white butt was toddling ahead of me and your Dada remarked that there is nothing in the world quite like listening to your laughter while he’s making dinner.

The shots get harder the older you get, no one tells you this. They did it in your arms today. Your tiny little arms that were wrapped around my neck at the same time. You screamed into my ear. I wanted to scream with you. Nothing can prepare you for this. It’s just something you have to endure when you make the decision to vaccinate. Which I am glad we did. But it’s still bloody fucking hard.

You are transitioning from 2 naps to 1. It’s a fascinating process. Every other day it seems you skip your second nap. And it’s strange because you seem tired, you should be tired, but I will lay you down and you proceed to get right back up and start playing for over an hour. Finally I give up and just go get you. Then it’s no sleep till bedtime. Weird. You’ve thrown me off my game. I am losing my nap confidence. I like 2 naps. Come back to us….oh elusive 2nd nap you…

I love you Pony.

Let’s eat some cake.

Mom