You were fourteen months old a few days ago, but your father has been sick so blame him for this being late. We reached a major milestone this month - you learned to nod. I cannot begin to describe what a positive impact this skill has had on our everyday lives. You have been shaking your head in a vehement no since you were six months old, but now, now you can also say yes. I can ask you questions and you can answer them. Yes, you do want a drink, no, you are not tired, yes, you do want to go outside, no, you do not want me to change your diaper. It is so exciting that I am even willing to overlook your continued refusal to speak.
This month you also started practicing your own version of Zen Buddhism. You want me to pick you up and to not pick you up, you want to be on the chair and not on the chair, you want to eat the yogurt and not eat the yogurt. I admit it can get a little frustrating, but I just tell myself that you are imbedded in a deep, spiritual study of the dual nature of the universe and pick you up and put you down twenty times in a row until you decide to go with one or the other.
You are a marvel on two legs. You walk, you dance, you teeter around on your tippy tip tiptoes, you squat way down to get a better view, you climb, you climb, you climb. You can stand up by pushing off only the floor, and I am always shocked on those rare occasions when I see you crawl.
You sleep. You sleep, you sleep, you sleep, you sleep. You sleep.
Mia Bean, it started to seem to me this month that I might like to do something else once in a while, that I might like a day or two a week to be something else in addition to your mommy, that it might be time for me to get a job. It keeps popping into my head and I have been giving it a lot of thought, but then I will be out running errands longer than usual or you will nap a little longer than usual and I will start to miss you like crazy. I will realize that I want nothing more than to rush home or sneak into your room and give you hugs and kisses and watch you discover your pockets and pull your little finger out of your cute little nose and yell and talk into your cups to see how funny it sounds and make the sign for "refrigerator" and cover your whole face with your palm and start spitting in an effort to blow kisses. A job, just a little one, sounds pretty good to me right now, but I adore every minute I spend with you, and I don't know how I could stand to give any of them up.
I love you, little girl, so much I sometimes think I will explode with it.