11:10 a.m. - 2007-03-06
Ketchup!
Dearest Lucian,
Hey what's up Kiddo? I know, I know. judging by the dates in this journal, it looks like I've been ignoring you. But that's totally not the case. I've been at home playing with you, and I've been at work thinking of you. But I have also been feeling like a heel for not having much to say. There's so much going on in both of our lives, that it's been tricky to figure out what to write down. You are in a stage of constant learning. You want to talk so badly you can taste it. You ask what absolutely everything is, and you parrot back our answers. Sometimes I wonder if the name recognition is getting through to you, and other times I know it is. But you are just as likely to call a horse a cow, but you know the difference of what sound each animal makes. I've watched you make the final connection between a sign we've taught you, a picture in a book, and the food you were holding. One evening you suddenly looked at the apple in your hand, put it down and screamed "Apple!" and then you made the sign with your fist to face for 'apple,' said it again, and then pointed to a picture of an apple in a book, and said ti a final time. The whole time with a look of wonder and eureka! It was so amazing to watch the gears slide into place like that. It's happened a few other times since then, but never so enigmatically. ( I know that's the wrong word, and maybe when you read this you'll tsk, and correct my vocabulary skills to yourself, but for now, it stands. I can't think of what other word would best describe the enthusiasm you showed at having finally solved a puzzle I didn't even know was bothering you.)
I may have mentioned this in earlier letters, but in case I haven't, I'm pregnant. And as my belly grows larger, you look at it with mischief. I think in your head I'm growing a trampoline for you. Because that seems to be all you want to do - jump on it. Every time I tell you there's a baby in there, you look at me as though I have three heads. I'm not sure you've made the connection from pictures of babies, to the actual live squirming wiggling thing, but you definitely understand that "in no way can Mommy have a baby in her belly. I know, I've looked under her shirt, and there is naught but a button!" You kind of stare at me like I'm a loony-bird, and then wander away uninterested in talking to such a crazy woman.
I find it hysterical.
A few nights ago, we were eating chicken nuggets for dinner, and you asked me what it was. I told you it was chicken. You held it up, showed Daddy, and said "chicken." Daddy was surprised to hear you speak so clearly, that he maybe praised you more than you expected. For the rest of the night, you would hold up a piece of your dinner and shout the word "Chicken!" like it was your battle cry. Daddy and I were so amused, we did the same. All night, back and forth "Chicken!" If we had neighbors, they would have though we were about to go to war for the chickens.
There are so many stories like this one. I will do my best to get in here and write them down for you. I can't promise, though. some days I have more time than other. And some days I have more memory than others. But I'll try.
For now, I have to go to a meeting.
Oh, and P.S. We have found a house in Fla! I'll let you know all about it in the next letter - as long as the credit report comes back positive.
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