Liefste Leja, you’re 17 months old. And you amaze me. You’re such a clever little girl. You know things I don’t remember teaching you. When I ask you ‘where’s Winnie?’ you waddle to your room and fetch Winnie the Pooh.
After first giving him a hug and a kiss. Somewhere, somehow you became very aware of cats. And the difference between cats and dogs. Meowing, whenever you spot a cat, be it in the yard, in a picture or on a coffee mug. Bwifff, bwifff, bwifff you go, barking like our Bully, when you spot a dog. They don’t go ‘woof, woof, woof’, no, according to you, sweet little girl, dogs go ‘bwifff, bwifff, bwifff’.
Daddy gave you a cookie one day, informing you that this piece of happiness is called COOKIE. It wasn’t long before you put it together – cookies exist in the kitchen. Somewhere overhead, just lift that tiny hand up to the sky and feel along the countertops, while chanting ‘TOOTIE’!
You’re very wilful. And stubborn. And spirited! What an emotional roller-coaster 17 months seem to be. Laughing one moment, bursting into tears the next, throwing a few violent punches in the air, then falling to the ground in despair, only to be laughing with abundance thereafter. I don’t know how you manage it all, but you’re seemingly taking it all in your stride.
Absolutely no construction of any towers on your watch. Towers of building blocks are NOT ALLOWED! Sneakily Daddy starts stacking blocks behind your back. Two, three, four blocks on top of each other. And then the fire in your eyes and the shriek of that little voice, NOOOO! And you stomp towards the guilty little tower of blocks, obliterate the tower and let blocks fly (fly blocks – free as a bird, fly away!). NO towers. Not on your watch. Or else, you’ll just see the utter destruction. And in the aftermath of your destruction – a victory dance.
Just like that, right there, without music, just jiving and rocking out on your own, because you feel like it. Dance. Happiness. Joy. Jubilation!
You grab anything resembling a cell phone, press it against your ear, saying ‘Anno!’ Then you have a lengthy discussion of which I don’t understand a thing, except for an upward inflection in your voice, indicating a question. Then a few babbling words again, ending it all with a theatrical giggle, and exclaiming with glee ‘bye!’ End of discussion. Tootie, Mamma? You know what, little Leja? I love that you are all these things.
All these crazy nonsensical things. The little crazy type of things. The peculiarity that is you. Yes, my girl, here it is, just for you. Tootie, ta. And you’re happy, albeit a piece of cucumber. Tootie is hmmmmyuuuumm-yum. - Jana Cloete
How old is your baby now and what is the most special thing about your little one that you can think of? Tell us in the comments.