23 Month Update

Dear Lana,

You turned 23 months old a couple of days ago. That means you are now just a month shy of two years, the age at which the American Academy of Pediatrics says it is okay for kids to begin watching some television. After reading several alarming reports and a book on the effects of television on young minds, I came to agree with that recommendation and took pains to limit your TV consumption in our house. Fortunately for me, you showed almost no interest in television for the first 22 months of your life. Then you saw a few minutes of Shrek and life as we know it came to an end.

For the last month, the first words out of your mouth every morning were, "Wanna see Shrek!" You would sit on the couch watching the movie and drinking your morning cup of milk like a little Shrek zombie, snapping out of your trance only long enough to inquire, "Where Shrek?" whenever he wandered off screen. Before I knew it we were watching Shrek in the mornings before breakfast, right before nap time, and in the evening before bed time. I began to wake up with the music from Shrek lodged in my head and found I could recite every line from the movie. I tried introducing some new children's movies like my personal favorite, Annie. Poor Little Orphan Annie barely finished her first song before you were demanding more Shrek. Your Grandma Omo was kind enough to purchase Finding Nemo, so I talked you into watching a few minutes of that. I started to think you were actually interested when you looked at me and asked, "Where Nemo's Daddy?" I pointed him out and you replied, "Ok. I WANNA WATCH SHREK!!!"

When you weren't busy watching Shrek and inquiring into the whereabouts of Donkey, Fiona, and Dragon, you occupied yourself by asking about everyone else you could think of: "Where my Daddy? Where my Granny? Where my Rico? Where Preston? Where Andra?" Your teacher told me that you would often stop what you were doing on days at school and ask, "Where John Mayes?" or "Where my JMo?" I guess at some point during the month you decided that mommy was a baby term and you began almost exclusively calling me JMo. I think it perplexes your teachers, but I actually find it quite endearing.

Speaking of endearing, you learned the fine art of complimenting and used it to great effect in the past month. When your father would return home from work and scoop you up into his arms, you'd look him over and say something like, "I like your shirt." When I modeled my new bathing suit you said, without any encouragement, "JMo cute." You also learned that meeting new people is a lot easier when you have something nice to say, like the little girl you were introduced to at the pool named Bernadette. She was hanging out with Samantha, an older girl from the neighborhood who loves children. When Sam left the pool for a second there was a bit of an awkward silence as you and Bernadette eyed each other, and then you walked over to her and said, "Hi! I like your hair." Bernadette smiled and I nearly overdosed on the cuteness of the moment.

Apparently, your cuteness has earned you some extra attention at school as well. For a couple of days after school you reported that, "CJ knock me down" and you'd occasionally blurt out, "Go away CJ!" I talked to your teachers and found out that CJ is a boy in the other middle 2K class that you run into on the playground. He developed a crush on you almost immediately and began chasing your around the playground attempting to give you hugs. Unfortunately, CJ is the Paul Bunyan of two-year-olds and his attempts at affection left you on the ground or scrambling into the arms of one of the teachers.

Less abrasive but just as interested is Kaleb, a boy in your class who has recently taken to handing me your backpack and lunchbox when I arrive to pick you up. He occasionally grabs his own bags in hopes that we'll bring him home with us, and once he even chased you out the door yelling, "Kiss, kiss, kiss!" You stopped and allowed him to plant a quick kiss on your cheek before scampering out the door and away from your boy troubles for a couple of days.

I figured that boys would be a problem for us at some point, but I am surprised to be worrying about them even before your second birthday. Come to think of it, almost everything about how fast you are growing surprises me. One evening this past month you were playing with your car, climbing in and out with a purse slung over your shoulder. You bid farewell to your father, so he joined in the game and asked, "Are you going to work?" You looked at him in amazement and said, "I'm going to school." Then you actually rolled your eyes, shook your head, and muttered, "Work!" to yourself before driving off to tell all your friends about your clueless dad.

It is an absolute joy to watch you grow, my sweet Lana Kathleen, but please try to take your time. And remember, boys are ICKY.

Love,

JMo