Woah.

Dear L.,

Chicky, you are amazing -- every moment a new word. Tonight, you understood our conversation about your dinner. "Noodlenoodlenoodle!" You love the rice noodles we cook for you.

Last night I was out, studying and drinking too much coffee on 82nd Ave. You were home, playing hide-and-seek with dad. Over and over and over you moved from room to room, until you were wheezy. (We hope you don't have asthma.) But you were delighted.

You walked, with dad's hands, naked and skinny to where I'm sitting with my computer. You were grinning and I wondered if we should feed you more -- but you eat (and eat and eat) so I won't fret for now. In your life, how much will I worry or try not to worry about you? I received a blessing in my first trimester from a wonderful Buddhist teacher-author. She took my hands and told me that I was free of worry, I could land indeed you came into our life so easily. But now I wonder what edges of worry I will skate along with you?

This week, you will be 19 months old. And maybe, just maybe, I will finally write the story of your entry into the world. I've decided that these letters to you, they're just as much to me, so we'll see where this takes us.

Thanks you for all of your kisses.

I love you dearly and truly,
Mama

Kisses

My sweet girl,

This week you are full of new words. It seems like, every minute or so, a new one pops out. Of course...I don't think every person would understand, but we do. Just tonight, at dinner, you said "applesauce". This morning, you said "sock". You've finally started saying "dog" too.
My two new & favorite words are "bapa" and "Dalai Lama" (which comes out like "dalalala"). Bapa is the word for grandpa and you are so enamored with him! It makes me melt when I hear you say it because I love him so and had a close relationship with my grandfather, whom I called Papa. You have your own word for him -- out of the blue, it just appeared. He is fun when he's here most every week: there's singing, and playing with zippers and folding laundry. You like to watch him do chores around our house (I know you will grow up to be as helpful!) and you have that look in your eye, that sparkle, that he has. Pure love.
"Dalalala" all started when Dad checked out a Dalai Lama book-on-tape out from the library. You like to hold the case when we are driving and every time you looked at it, we would say the name. Soon, you started saying Dalalala and we realized you really were saying the name. Now we've printed up a picture from the internet and purchased a little Dalai Lama book from Powell's. Holding it makes you happy and you always smile when you see the picture. This is so magical; that you could somehow see the peace and love this man represents -- it is amazing! You also like to ring the meditation bell we have, the sound ringing through our little house as the cat runs to the basement.
And you have started kissing. You make the cutest kissing sound, too. You kiss my shoulder when I'm holding you, and my cheek too. Sometimes they are a little wet, but you've got the pucker and smack down perfectly. Sometimes, if you are in the right moment and I say, "Can I have a kiss?" you'll lean right in, kiss me and smile. After dad and I were gone for a Holiday Party, the next morning you gave me many kisses and laid your sleepy head on my shoulder.
Your personality also grows by the day and we can tell you are trying, in earnest, to communicate with us. There are words you string together like sentences and I can't wait to fully understand your conversations. I hope we will always share many things.
When I am out without you, I sometimes wish I could wear a picture of you like a badge, to show -- on the outside -- that you are always with me. I'm not sure this makes sense, truly, but it is how I feel. If there was a little window in my head, you would see a little picture of Lucy playing and smiling and talking. Or maybe I could wear a big sign that says "I'm a Mother" just so people understood why I smile on the bus or even when the cold wind is blowing through my wool cap. Of course, not everyone knows you, Lucy, and so would not understand how you bring me so much joy.

Love,
Mama