Letters to Littles: A Monthly Letter Project to our Kids (March 2013)


Here is this month’s Letters to Littles:

Dear Nookie,

Sorry I didn’t write a letter last month… I was taking a little break from blogging. But, here I am again, a little late but better than never.

So, you’re now two and a half. My big girl. And you are big too. Another recent growth spurt has lengthened your legs. You look less “baby-shaped” all the time. You speak better every day too, enunciating better and adding more words to your sentences. Sometimes I’m just astonished by how well you talk.

We’ve had some issues this month with your not listening to us. I guess it’s just a symptom of being two… you’re on your own agenda and aren’t interested in listening to someone asking you not to do things. I’m not always as patient as I could be, but I’m trying. Often it just requires a second of thought on my part to offer you an alternative suggestion rather than banging my head against the wall trying to get you to stop what you’re doing. Sometimes I manage that.

Anyway, you’re less of a picky eater now. Chicken, potatoes and a few vegetables have been added to the repertoire of things you’ll eat, though you’d still rather eat fish fingers over pretty much anything. And you’ve developed an addiction to Kinder Eggs that is costing us a bleeding fortune. You ask for one every single day and if we don’t have any (as we usually don’t at 65-79p each depending on which shop I go to) you demand we go to the shop to get you one. This is often one of those occasions where the answer just has to be no and you have to deal with the disappointment. It’s heartbreaking for us to watch you cry, but we know in the long-run that giving in to your every whim isn’t a good idea and you have to learn to manage hard emotions like disappointment. Still… it’d be so much easier to just give you what you want, and sometimes we do anyway, if we can afford it and have time to nip to the shop.

Anyway, this month your favourite thing ever is for me to tell you the (whole) story of the film Wreck It Ralph while I nurse you in bed. I’ve told it so many times now I pretty much tell the same story every time word for word, and if I don’t get the story completely right you detach from my breast in order to correct me (monkey!). I find it so mind-numbingly irritating… telling stories is not something I enjoy at all. Especially when you demand I tell you it sometimes two or three times a day (and it takes me ten minutes). The other day, at the suggestion of a friend, I recorded myself telling you the story in the hope that I wouldn’t have to tell it anymore… yeh that didn’t work. It’s the real thing you want and you won’t settle for a recording. :/ I guess eventually you’ll get tired of it.

You’re also loving games that involve throwing. In our bedroom (we have a raised bed with storage underneath – kind of like a bunk bed without a bottom bunk) you like me to throw footballs up to you and then you throw them back down to me. You especially love getting me on the head, at which point I have to fake falling down, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. Then when you go to my mum’s house you instantly request (demand) to throw things down my mum’s stairs. Bath-toys, balls, teddies… anything you can get your hands on, get launched down the stairs and my poor mum has to pick them all up again (she started this game!). Although I’m not sure it’s something that will be allowed anymore considering the last time you were there you knocked one of her pictures off the wall, breaking the frame. :/

Ooh yeh, you’ve discovered headphones. It’s so cute. Your new favourite thing now when we’re in the car is to sit with my iPhone in your lap and listen to Slipknot on the headphones. I can’t quite get you to understand that I can’t hear it too, and you always tell me to sing along no matter how much I protest I can’t hear the music. It’s so sweet watching you head-bang along to the music, singing away to yourself and shouting at me over the noise. He he he.

Until next month my dear… I love you so very much.

Mummy

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