Dear Zayde,
It's been a big month. I've learned so much that I'm sure I won't be able to list all of my newfound knowledge and newly acquired skills. The following is a sample of lessons, in no particular order, that were chosen mostly due to Mommy's still-Swiss-cheese memory.
I learned to put on my own sneaker. No one is sure how I did this, but it involved going into a corner by myself, making a lot of noise, and emerging triumphantly a few minutes later. I learned to tell people I want to go for a walk outside by bringing them my hat and shoes. While on such walks, I've learned how to run into our neighbors' yards, which "aren't ours" and are therefore much more enticing. Some of those yards have flowers I enjoy touching and dogs that bark at me. I learned to bark back. (See below.)
I learned to sort objects by shape. Mommy gave me a pile of spheres (wooden balls) and cubes (wooden blocks), and showed me how to put each in a separate container. I caught on rather quickly, if I do say so myself. I'm not sure why we want to segregate the shapes. That is, I didn't think we were a discriminating family, but Mommy was really into the whole idea of "this goes here, and that goes there," so I humored her, as usual. She has been great about learning to get out the Cheerios when I bring her my sad, empty bowl, so I wanted to return the favor.
I learned how to help Mommy put away the groceries. I learned that if I poke a hole in one of the packages of chicken or steak, we have to eat that for dinner. I learned to fall asleep while riding on Mommy like a backpack when you and Bubbie showed us how to get to the grocery store from the boat. I learned that adults like to drink coffee in mugs that are "hot" and not safe to touch. I learned that Aunt Jill has forgotten what it's like to have toddlers around, which led to her leaving a glass of white wine on a low table, which led to my picking up said glass, which led to covering myself in said wine. I learned that bath water is not for drinking, and cups full of drinking water are not for washing my hands. You can see how these two concepts might be easily confused, right?
As you've heard, I can "woof woof" like a dog and "me-ow" like a cat. I can also "roar" like a lion and "quack quack" like a duck. I taught myself to wave to birds, both in real life and in books. I've learned that words can be used to identify objects and communicate my desires. So far, my parents have been able to figure out that I can say mama, da (dad), nana (banana or Grandma, depending on the situation), uh-oh, kah (car), ka (cat), dah (dog), wawa (water), ya (yes), dee-en (the end, as in what you say after reading a book) and the ever-useful NO. I still haven't said "hello" again since we were in Atlanta. I am most likely messing with my parents and/or waiting until I meet someone truly interesting and therefore worthy of such a well-pronounced greeting. I'm also capable of speaking in complex sentences, but no one seems to understand me, no matter how many times I repeat myself. Do you think they all have hearing problems?
This month I've learned to point to named body parts on myself and others. I know where all of the following can be found: head, hair, tummy, belly button, nose, ears, eyes, mouth, tongue, teeth, tushie, nipple, feet, toes, fingers, arms, legs, and hands. When reading a book with a grown-up, I can also identify such common objects as houses, chairs, trucks, beds, socks, and various animals.
I learned to kick a ball thanks to my "Uncle" Jack. I learned how to walk down the aisle (carrying my monkey, of course) at Danny and Yael's wedding, where I also learned to dance the hora with a bunch of Daddy's friends. I learned to turn a paper towel tube into a horn. Lego towers can be used, as well, but you don't get that same echo. I learned how to grab onto Mommy's knees in such a way that she cannot move in any direction. I like to employ that skill when she's making dinner. I learned that matzah is not only delicious but also the perfect snack if I want to leave a trail wherever I go. On the contrary, I learned that soap is not such a good snack, and taking a bite out of Mommy's bar soap results in a mouth full of yuck and a call to poison control.
My parents say that the best thing I've learned is how to give kisses and hugs when asked. I agree that it's an incredibly useful skill. One kiss from me and they'll agree to anything, even a cookie before dinner.
It seems like I'm learning something new every day, which I'm sure is related to the fact that I never stop moving, from the moment I get Mommy out of bed at 6:00 a.m. until the moment I curl up with my monkey and fall asleep at 7:30 p.m. The older I get, the more I realize how big and fascinating the world is, and the more I want to see, hear, and taste every bit of it. (Mostly taste.)
Your kinetic kid,
Zelda
