A.B. Kagledom

Dear Adlai,

I ask: "How old are you now?" And you enthusiastically shout: "TWO!"

And two you are. To be honest, I feel like you're older than two. It may have everything to do with the fact that you started behaving as if you were two shortly after you turned one. Following is your second year in review...

You were already saying a few words by your first birthday and, over the year, your vocabulary grew exponentially. Daddy enrolled you in a language study at Stanford and you had such a good time repeating words associated with pictures! They'd show a cat and a voice would say "Cat" and you would repeat "Cat!" and add a "Meow!" They showed you a picture of a foot and you repeated "FOOT!" and kicked your feet up to the screen.

Most of the time, we take for granted that you talk back to us and that what you say makes sense but, let me assure you, it is so very wonderful and helpful and fun. You say just about everything - repeating our words when we ask you a question. At the beginning of your second year we would ask, "Would you like ice cream?" and you would repeat, "I ceam!" And no one really expected you knew what you were saying. About half way through your second year we noticed that you DID understand - a drive by an ice cream store would result in a shout from the back seat "I ceam, Mama! Yum!" And now, you demand ice cream out of the blue. "What would you like for dinner?" we ask. You reply "Ice Cream! I wun i cream!"

These days a lot of your words are being combined into short sentences but you still occasionally can't find the words to express your needs. "Wun nush!" you often shout (nush has always been your word for milk). We give you your cup of milk and you burst into tears as if it is the WORST MOMENT EVER. Now we know that your frustration is receiving your milk in a sippy cup instead of a regular big-kid cup, without a lid, but it took us a while to figure that out. We deeply offend you like this on a regular basis. You ask for something. We give you what you want. You burst into tears. We take it away. You scream that it is leaving. We give it back. You burst into tears. Repeat ad nauseum.

Sometimes, even though we do understand what you want or what is irritating you, it still doesn't make any sense. You hate it when Simon doesn't sit properly at dinner or when he swings his feet. You will find a way to look under any table at any restaurant to make sure you can see if Simon is swinging his feet before you issue your scathing rebuke: "STOP IT, SIE!" or "SIT UP SIE!" It is adorable (kind of) that you care so deeply about Simon's posture at the dinner table but, really, even though this is your birthday letter, we need to give Simon some credit and point out that IT DOESN'T BOTHER HIM. He constantly hugs you, he kisses you, he tells you that he loves you all the time. Lately, instead of saying "Stop it, SIE", you've been more welcoming of the affection. "Where is Si-min?" you ask each morning, often followed by a disappointed "Si-min's seeping."

You're also opinionated and stubborn. Getting you dressed in the morning is almost always a chore. It isn't that you don't want to get dressed, it is that you care so deeply about what you are wearing. Elmo, Wall-E, trains and planes are good, all the other shirts we have (most of them) are bad. Taking off one of the "good" shirts or pajama tops is equally difficult. "Nooooo! Chooo choooo!" you shout as you burst into tears. Luckily, you like water and Simon enough that I can usually distract you from clothing removal pain by offering a chance to spray Simon in the shower. And there you two will stay - laughing and squealing as you pour cups of water on yourselves, the walls, and each other.

And I can't forget to mention that you love to accessorize: boots and a helmet into the grocery store, goggles for the bathtub. You are very particular about which jacket gets worn when. Some are worn all day.

Once something has your interest, you are intensely focused and inquisitive. You can move trains back and forth along the tracks in your room for a half hour *alone* before you get lonely and ask for help because the bridge came apart or a train jumped the tracks. You like books - even some lengthy ones, as long as they have enough pictures. Green Eggs and Ham is a current favorite although you are not all that picky. You are completely obsessed with what we call "ding dings" (train crossing signals) and, given the option of watching anything, you will always ask to see a train crossing signal go off - the train itself carrying very little interest. It isn't just trains that hold your interest, you also love planes and cars and pretending to drive the car for hours on end.

You are very physically active and love to be outside but you are equally fond of spending time indoors coloring, making a mess of PlayDoh, and pretending to prepare food. When it comes to real food, you prefer food that has flavor - especially meat. And, even though you love to point out every "Cheeseburger!" you run across, you really are not terribly fond of such childish fare. No, you prefer marinated fillet mignon and cabbage slaw and green beans sauteed in garlic and lemon. When we are cooking, you stand at the kitchen gate attempting with all your might to break it down yelling "Me see? Me see?" - until we show you what is in each pot, the blender, and the bowls. And there is always commentary when you do get to see, something along the lines of "Coffee, hot!" or "Oooooh, spicey."

When you are happily surrounded by family, you relish being the center of attention. You swagger into rooms, bobbing your head from side to side with a big grin and making silly sounds. You fall to the ground in dramatic displays claiming you have an "Ouchy bum" that needs a kiss or a finger that has been smooshed and needs someone to blow on it to make it better. You love to run in circles and make yourself dizzy and ride on my back and fall across Daddy's chest with your arms around his neck. You like to play in sand and investigate things you find in the grass and woodchips below the playset. You close your fists and growl and squinch your nose and pretend you are frustrated so that we will copy you so that you can copy us and laugh. You like to chase Simon and find yourself copying his imaginary fight moves. You love to dance (although, mostly, your dancing is comprised of jumping) and are very fond of music with a good beat. You often sing the Star Spangled Banner and another mandarin song - songs you have learned from Simon and his school assemblies.

You love your stuffed animal friends, especially "Baby Elmo", and you are such a good care giver. You give Elmo binkies, you feed him, wrap him in his favorite blanket, and snuggle and talk to him. If you are angry or holding a grudge, the way to your heart is through Baby Elmo. If I do something nice for Elmo, you will usually forgive me for what ever slight I have caused you.

You are incredibly polite, always saying "Thank you, Daddy" or "Thank you, Mama" when we hand you something. You are still obsessed with binkies (what you call "bee-dees" and simon calls "pinkies"). You have a perpetual rash around your mouth which is irritated by binky use so we're always attempting to limit your exposure. You, on the other hand, are always attempting to increase your exposure - instigating binky hunts under your crib or in places you've hidden them throughout the house.

Besides the occasional wake-up before we go to bed, you are an excellent sleeper. What impresses us most is that you WANT to sleep. Occasionally you have even asked to have a binky and go to sleep. This is probably normal behavior for your age but, I want you to know that, of all the great and wonderful and fabulous things about you, making it easy to put you to bed is really high up on the list of things we enjoy. Putting you to bed after two or three stories and a goodnight kiss - no crying, no fussing - feels like a little reward...

EVERY...

SINGLE...

NIGHT.

You had a friend this year, Ben, and he had to move far away and, since that time, you really haven't played consistently with anyone your age. We worry about that from time to time. That is something we'll fix over the next year. You don't really seem to be suffering for the lack of friends your age. When in groups of Simon's friends you enjoy yourself. You are engaged if slightly weary of other kids taking things away. You aren't bossy with others the way you are with Simon. I suspect you know that the other kids might not be as tolerant as your brother.

Adlai, It has't been a great week for you. You've had a cold, an ear infection, and a bad case of conjunctivits in both eyes. You had your first trip to the emergency room when, late at night, we couldn't ease your excrutiating eye pain. But even in the emergency room, even with two eyes swollen shut, you were inqusitive and loving and goofy as all get out. You "made the night" of the emergency room doctors who went through each test with your Baby Elmo as you giggled at the thought of someone shinning a light in Elmo's ears (he doesn't even have any!). You took the Bob the Builder sticker they awarded you and you laughed as you covered it - up to Bob's face - with your Thomas the Train blanket saying "Good night, Bob!" You asked about every medical device, repeating the name we gave you as a question - letting us know you wanted more information. When it was time to go, you repeadedly shouted "BYE BYE! THANK YOU!" to all of your care givers.

The next night, still sick, you went to Simon's school holiday performance. No one was more excited to see Simon singing on stage than you. You waved over and over shouting "Si-min!" And Simon, just as enthusiastically, waved back. When Simon went off stage you completely lost interest in the show, preferring to hunt for your brother than listen to the third and fourth graders. "Where Si-min go?" That is, until you saw Ally - your neighborhood friend and a girl a few weeks younger. Once you saw Ally you wanted nothing more than to stare and smile and giggle and play. She is really cute but you weren't allowed to play - not while sick.

So, by most accounts, your last week as a one-year-old has been just plain bad. But, instead of being miserable and sad and cranky, you have made us laugh and smile and be eternally grateful that we decided to give this parenthood thing a second go. Just a year ago you wouldn't have managed well under unfamiliar circumstances which makes me think, you still have a few surprises up your Thomas-the-Train t-shirt sleeves - I, for one, can't wait to find out what they are.

Happy Birthday Adali!

Much love,

Mama (and Daddy and Simon too)