fifteen months

dear Sweetpea,

some days i don't know whether you're fifteen months or fifteen years old. you've perfected this coy little smile that you give us when you know you're being cute (or, sometimes, for no apparent reason at all).  you eat with silverware most of the time. you sit on the piano bench and play, and sometimes sing. you cradle Daddy's cell phone between your ear and your shoulder and babble away, accentuating your dramatic tales by shaking your finger or putting your hand on your hip. (for posterity's sake, i will clarify that this cell phone is an ancient Nokia, not a smart-phone, and it will live forever and ever to spite me by proving Daddy's eternal point that Old Things Are Better.)

and, miracle of miracles, you're walking. you took your first steps exactly as expected around your first birthday, but after that, you were content to crawl around the house or be carried when we were outside. sometimes i'd catch you taking up to six or seven steps in a row when you thought i wasn't looking, but as soon as we'd try to get you to do it again, you'd plop down to all fours and triumphantly crawl away. 

this month, though, you graduated to the Walker-Transition room at daycare, and behold! peer pressure in action! with the encouragement of your new teachers and the example of your new friends, you figured it out. you're still working on your balance, and you still crawl sometimes, especially when you're tired. watching you walk around with your sippy cup tucked in the crook of your arm, i'm continually amazed at how much can change in a year!

we marked another big milestone with your very first haircut at Sharkey's Cuts for Kids in Robinson. you just needed a little trim to keep your hair out of your eyes, and your stylist Alysha did a great job keeping most of the length. you really didn't like wearing the cape, since it covered up your arms and hands. but you made it through, and we celebrated with lunch at Buca di Beppo afterwards! 

you celebrated Valentine's Day with Nana this year, who graciously drove out here (right before a snowstorm hit!) to keep you while we went to our church's Valentine's dinner and dance. as per usual, she spoiled you with new clothes, a stuffed kitten, coloring books, new crayons ... and a quart of creamy whole milk from Ritchey's Dairy. unfortunately, you spiked a 104 degree temp that morning and we ended up taking you to the Children's Expresscare, where the doc diagnosed you with an early double ear infection. as soon as we knew what was going on, you perked right up -- which was good, but bizarre. i truly think that you had picked up on my concern (my crazy PA-mom brain was thinking about lumbar punctures and febrile seizures), and once we knew it was a garden variety ear infection, you acted just as relieved as i felt. 

speaking of emotions, we discovered that Amazon Prime Instant Video offers free streaming of the original Mr. Rogers shows. as in, the first few episodes are in black and white. you love the songs, but after a few minutes of watching, you'll go back to playing with your toys until something else piques your interest. Daddy and i, however, are smitten. it's so refreshing to have emotional validation without being patronized. and i love the fact that Mr. Rogers will mention being frustrated or disappointed about something, and then will just sit with that for a little bit -- no moralizing, no lecture on how to see things from the other person's perspective, just simple acknowledgement of feelings and moving on. you do love the trolley and Henrietta Pussy-cat, and as you get older, i'm sure you'll love the show as much as we do.

new words this month include "bee-bee-bee" for "ABCs" and "no!". you used to say pronounce "meow" as "ow!", but now you say "mwah!" in a ridiculously cute mash-up of "meow" with a kissing sound. you can point to your head, nose, ears, tummy, knees, and toes. and you are absolutely obsessed with coloring. you're pretty good about not writing on the furniture. you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that "crayons stay on paper",  so sometimes you look at me with a huge grin before tapping the crayon on the table, which inevitably leads to me reminding you of the rule, you tapping it on the table again, and me confiscating the crayon for several minutes. you protest for a few seconds, and then cheerfully find something else to play with -- my silly girl! 

we love you, Sweetpea! you are our sunshine, every day.