Dear Brennyn (One year, 2 months, & 13 days)

Dear Miss B.,

It is not your birthday. Nor your half birthday. No milestones to speak of. Yet still a letter is in order. Because at one year, two months & 13 days, you are funny. And mischievous and wild and busy. So very busy.

I write to you now to document this time. Not that I could ever (EVER!) forget you painting yourself with your sister’s poo but there is so much more to tell you. So many simple, yet fantastic moments.

The way you don’t ever acknowledge your hair, until you have two hands full of oatmeal. Then it becomes imperative to smooth back your limited locks.

The way you must lean into everything. You never just stand or sit there. You must lean. Kick back. Chill. Looking as though you are the passenger in a convertible on a cross-country roadtrip, arm resting out the window, hair blowing in the wind. You lean back into pillows, chairs, walls, rocks, my lap and too often for my liking, strangers laps. Not even looking, you walk back, back, back until you feel a support and you lean. Even on the short walk over to Willow Park, every front step beckons for you to stop, back-up, and sit awhile.

The way you scratch your back, and bum, just like a bear. Like The Lean only back, back, back to a wall and shake, wiggle and dance away the itch.

The way you don’t speak any words, but don’t not speak either. In fact, I am pretty certain you are fluent in Klingon with that gargled, spitty, throaty babbling.

The way you say ‘Mamma!’ only when you are mad, grunts for most other words and the one English word we can decipher, “Dude.” You say nothing, but understand everything. If asked a yes or no question however, you respond with nods or shakes. The nod, a heavy-metal, head-banging YES. The shake so pronounced it knocks you off your balance and swings you onto the floor. Hilarious.

The way you walk. 4 months of walking now. You definitely do not saunter. Or stroll. You kind of take off running, arms back, legs wide and quick but wobbly, breathing labored. I’m not sure how to describe it except to say it is the opposite of a penguin.

I scooped you up just in time to whip off your dress, pull up your leg warmers and let you splash and bum plunk that ruffly butt right in!

The way you beeline it straight for anything water. Whether it is a lake, river, ocean or water table, you see water and you go. No matter how far the tide is out, you see the water’s edge and GO. Fortunately, you do stop at the edge. Kind of. You don’t just keep walking through the water though you do find it especially hilarious to get your shoes and bum wet as you squat at water’s edge splashing away.

The way you are so proud when you can do something your sister does. Like climb on the bed or reach, reach way up high to the table, pull down her leftover oatmeal and spoon, then sit on the floor and finish her breakfast for her.

Whatever she can do, I can do too!

The way you are so determined to put on your own shoes (or as is most often the case, Kaya’s shoes)

The way you despise sleeping with socks on and manage to get them off every nap time. And the way you look at me with glee while I search for those socks with exasperation and impatience but you prefer to think of it is as a clever and funny endeavour, not an annoying one.

The way you collapse on a pillow or a Riley for random cuddles.

Oh the way you cuddle. Nestled right in with that pat, still that pat of contentment.

The way you bee-bop at the moment anything sounds remotely like music. Or the way you clap at the end of any show or song. You loved being at Live at Squamish music festival. No surprise there.

Ah yes my girl, you are busy. Sometimes trouble. But mostly hilarious, curious and fun (you can remind me I said that after the billionth time you’ve heard the poo story)

While you steal my remote control far too often for my liking, you also steal my heart daily. Which magically, only makes my heart bigger.

So you steal more. Thereby making it grow more.

It’s called forever-cycle lovin’. Being a mom is cool like that.

From my heart to yours and back again on infinite repeat,

Mommy

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2 thoughts on “Dear Brennyn (One year, 2 months, & 13 days)

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