the jellyball family blog

Dear Noah,

You are now a year and a half old. There have been some truly magical changes with you these past few weeks. You are really, truly no longer a baby. You walk, you talk, you dance, you run, you jump, you assert your will. I really think our baby is gone. I mean, it's hard to imagine that just a few months ago, you didn't eat and you were a breastfed baby.

You are nothing like that plump little baby from a few months ago. Now you're just this slightly chunky, watermelon eating machine who today ate his lunch, then ate his brother's leftovers. You eat that one square meal a day and the rest of the day, you graze and snack. You're pretty unpredictable as to when that meal might be, and we never know what you'll be in the mood to eat. But whenever the mood strikes, we attempt to feed you as much as you'll eat!

You eat with utensils - you have from a very young age, probably due to the fact that you want to do everything big brother Caleb does. You drink out of a cup, though you tend to get distracted and there are still lots of spills. You wake up in the morning and demand "LAIT!" (milk), though you often call it "jus" (juice), even when you are pointing to a glass of milk or water. Perhaps you're not confused at all - you're simply pointing out that this is not what you want, and what you want in that glass is juice. You really are a little talking genius, so I won't put it past you.

You love your crackers and your pastries. You have a definite sweet tooth - you can eat a mini ice cream cone faster than your brother, and you shovel spoonfuls of gelato down like someone's about to take it away from you (which is true). You love grapes, blueberries, watermelon, raisins, and occasionally you'll go for some pear and strawberries. You're still pretty limited in the vegetable department, but you'll entertain the odd potato or asparagus, and lately you've started enjoying eating salad. You eat sushi! Avocado rolls, that is. You have your moments when you'll try new things without hesitation - even if it's just a bite, but other days you'll give a definitive "NO!" with a shake of the head to tell us you are just not interested.

You love eating cereal with milk for breakfast. You rarely eat toast, unless it's raisin bread, and you will meticulously pull out all the raisins until your toast resembles swiss cheese. You are a fan of ketchup, there's never really enough of that.

You sing! You dance! You have always been a huge lover of music. Your dancing repertoire is quite impressive. There's the chicken dance, with wild flapping of wings and all. There's the running man, where you dance on the spot like you're jogging. There's the random lifting of the legs, doing the wave, and your specialty, spinning around in circles while saying "tourne! tourne! tourne!" (turn, turn, turn). You just started running this week, and you are getting to be quite fast and nimble. This will come in handy when you hit the dance floor!

You ask for music ("sic!") and you sing along to some of your favourite songs. You sing parts of the alphabet - the best is when you say "Q R S, T U V, wuh-wuh-wuh X..." You count to five. When you call me at work to talk to me on the phone, I say to you "Allo mon Noah" (Hello my Noah) and you repeat it back to me, only your version goes "Lo lo (random babbling here) Nwaaahhh..."

You scream "marche!" (walk) when you are in our arms and you want to be put down on the ground to walk. You say "main!" when you want to walk holding someone's hand. You greet your brother with an enthusiastic "ALLO!" when you see him first thing in the morning. You tell your brother "bouge!" (move) when you want him to get out of your way. You say "bas" (down) when you want to go downstairs, and "en haut" (upstairs) when you want to go upstairs. When asked where are your nose, cheeks, eyes, teeth, hair, head, tongue, and mouth are, you can not only say the French words for them, you can also point to them and say "là" (there).

And oh. Diaper changes are always entertaining. The minute your diaper goes off, you point to your manhood and exclaim "meh-mis!". Repeatedly. As if we didn't know what it was and hey, have you seen my meh-mis? I try to correct your pronounciation, and you repeat it back to me the same way all the time. Meh-mis. Yeah, Mom. Meh-mis. MEH-MIS. Uh huh. I got it. Meh-mis.

Your dad told me that the other day, you spotted your brother's meh-mis when he was going for a pee, and when he got up from the potty, pantless and without his underwear, you exclaimed "MEH-MIS!" while pointing to the meh-mis in question, and Caleb started backing away from you. You started following him with your finger outstretched, and proceeded to chase your half naked brother around the house while crying "Meh-mis!" It was quite the sight, I wish I had seen it.

You love animals! You make all kinds of sweet animal sounds, and you recognize many of them when you see pictures or photos of them, or even when you see them in the flesh. You do not, however, like dogs. If you are put at eye-level with one, you will scream and cry with fear. You love to see them from far, and say "woof woof" when you see one, but that's about as close as you want to get.

You have the benefit of playing with all kinds of toys that are not exactly age appropriate but way, way more fun than baby toys. You love to play with all your brother's big boy toys that we have in the house, from the make-believe tool set to the many trucks and trains. You make vroom-vroom car noises, you respond with a "choo choo!" when I say "All aboard!" and pump your arm like you're pulling the whistle. Your favourite toy is a ball. You LOVE LOVE LOVE balls. I think someday you are going to be great at ball sports - because at the tender age of 18 months, you throw a ball better than your big brother. You invented a game this week that I like to call Spoonball. You have a big plastic spoon which you stole from my utensil drawer in the kitchen, and you either run around with a ball in the spoon, or you hit the ball with the spoon like you're playing hockey. Actually, I'd have to say that Spoonball resembles lacrosse quite a bit, so perhaps someday you'll be an excellent lacrosse player. Your dad thinks that you've inherited his knack for sports (yeah, definitely NOT from my camp).

The biggest development from this past month has got to be the sleeping. A month ago, you were spending most of the night in our bed. It would take sometimes 45 minutes of rocking and walking and patting to get you to fall asleep in my arms, and then potentially even longer to put you into your crib without waking you up. when your father started being the stay at home parent, he couldn't duplicate the routine and had a lot of trouble putting you down for naps. Your father is always the one to take the bull by the horns and make the big changes around here - thank goodness for him because otherwise, we'd get stuck in our crazy do-what-it-takes routine and never make any progress.

It has taken about a week and a half to change things up, and while not all days are successful, we've made amazing progress. We can now put you down in your crib and you'll go to sleep on your own. Sometimes there's some crying, sometimes there's some convincing to do, but lately there hasn't been as much. Since you've started falling asleep on your own, you've been sleeping better through the night - probably because you're able to fall back asleep without us. Last night, you fell asleep on your own and you slept the entire night without crying out for us, NOT ONCE. It was truly amazing. By the time we write your newsletter next month, I imagine bedtime will be as simple as putting you down, blowing you a kiss goodnight, and walking out the door. Already the routine has gone down to just a few minutes, so it can only get better from here.

You've always had an interest for drawing. You love to scribble with crayons. You can't be trusted with them unsupervised, as you'll inevitably start throwing them or drawing on something other than paper, but I have a feeling that while you have your sporty side, you also have a little of your Mom's artistic side as well. I can't wait to see you turn into a total artsy jock.

You have a big, big heart. You have a ton of love to give in the form of big, sloppy, wet kisses, and your kisses are truly the best. You're always up for giving a hug. You especially seem to love your Papie - when you see him, your eyes light up and you reach out for him to take you in his arms. You wrap your arms around him, nestle your head into the crook of his neck, and you sigh with happiness. While you sometimes need to warm up around certain people, with your Papie, there is never a need.

You love to babble on the phone. You especially love to call your Grandmother (my mom, whom you refer to as "Ba Ngoai", meaning maternal grandmother in Vietnamese). You'll often go pick up the cordless phone, give it to us, and say "Ba Ngoai", as if to say "Dial it for me. Now." I love hearing your little voice on the line when I'm at work, even if you're just randomly babbling away in your sweet little mix of French, English, Vietnamese, and baby talk.

You seem to have really flourished since your father started staying home with you. You have developed an even stronger bond with him, and these days it seems like you're all about your Dad. Some days I come home from work and while you greet me with an enthusiastic "MAMA!", there are moments where you only want to be with your father. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt a little, especially since I haven't seen you all day, but I couldn't be happier that you are enjoying your special time with your father and that you love him so much that you don't want to give him up. (I know what you mean, I feel the same way.) Your dad always has and always will be the hero in this household, and he definitely is WAY more fun that I am.

You love to climb things. You've taken quite a few tumbles this past month. You're a monkey, what can we say.

When you turned one year old, we were in the craziest part of our renovations, and we kept meaning to have a birthday party for you, and things just kept getting crazy.

We finally got around to celebrating your 18 months. Maybe we're not the best at planning parties or keeping our house in a state where we can have guests, but what we lack in organization, we make up for in love. Whoa boy, did you ever love that cake. It was love at first bite. You dug your fork into the cake (because, puh-lease, get my hands dirty? I think not.) and looked at me like, "This is my piece, right?", meaning, THE WHOLE CAKE. (That's my boy.)

Promise you'll get a party when you turn 2.

Noah, I miss you SO much when I am at work. But I know you're having fun and learning new things and doing really boyish, awesome things with your Dad, and I'm so happy he gets to share some of the amazing experiences of your childhood. You are amazing. You have a sweetness that cannot be described.

We love you so much, my sweet little Noah.

Love
Mama