Letter Month 13

Dear Sena,

For starters, I'm sorry that I gave you such a bad haircut. I have to say, I had very good intentions, but I was very nervous about poking you in the eyes, which is why your bangs are about two inches above your eyebrows.





The past month, as usual, has been an adventure, but the wildest part is that all of a sudden you're not as much of a baby anymore. You understand everything it seems. I'll ask you a question, and you'll nod your head: you want me to read you a book? (yes), you want cheese? (yes), you want water? (ALWAYS, yes, more on this later) I know, eventually you'll say no to everything so I should enjoy the yes's while I have them.





Water- I'm not sure if you're running marathons in your sleep or what, but you'll drink close to two full cups of water after you wake up- and this is after nursing. And, you gulp it down like I've been depriving you of water for days. We finally figured out how to get you to drink milk. It has to be in a different kind of cup. (Who knew you'd care?) So milk goes in a straw. Water in a sippy. Duh, mom.

Speaking of sleeping. Just this past week you've figured out how to move in your sleep. At first you were pretty distraught waking up on your belly, facing the wrong direction. Now, we've caught you totally zonked out on your belly with your arms out to the sides. You're still a bit upset, however, when you somehow make your way to seated. I came in on your nap the other day and you were sitting up, your hair was totally matted to one side, your face was red, and you had this look on your face like, "how the hell did I get here? And, how do I get down??" Sorry love.

We went to a playgroup on Friday- three boys and you. You sat for nearly 90-minutes totally engrossed in the toys, while the boys climbed all over the place. It was hilarious. You were totally engrossed in stacking and building, only waving and saying "hey" every once in a while, or watching the boys as they came a bit too close. (Don't worry, they always backed off.)

Speaking of building. You love puzzles and stacking and organizing things. In fact, grandma has you sorting mail when you go to her house. She says, "maybe she'll be a post office sorter," I say- nah, she's just like her mom. She feels better when things are sorted in piles. Even if they're not put away. Just take a look at my desk and you'll see exactly where you got this from. Look at papa's desk and you'll see you certainly didn't get it from him!

You're still not walking completely on your own. I'm trying to let go and let you fall. But, I still can't really do it. Maybe if we lived in a bouncy house I'd be able to, but in the meantime, you'll be holding mama's fingers for a little while longer.. and that's okay.

love,
mama

P.S. Cash was feeling a little neglected, so this is for him.