Dear Maia,

Well, it took over a year, which is actually better than I thought I might do, but I finally forgot to write your monthly letter and have it posted at 1:07am on the 13th for the first time.  I don’t even have a good reason for this; I’m just busy and distracted as usual, spending all day with you (or at work) and all evening with your daddy.  I’m certain this won’t be the last time I let you down (although it would be wonderful if it were), but it’s a disappointment to me nonetheless.

After realizing how few pictures I’d been taking, I resolved to take more this month.  And fortunately, there have been some gloriously beautiful days of late, where we’ve gone outside as a family and explored the world.  You want to know what you explored and promptly decided you hated?  MUD.

You see, you and I took the dogs out one afternoon when all the snow was melting.  You held onto Joss’ leash (because he is a good dog and will not try to yank you off your feet, like his sister), and when you dropped it, he loped away over the sodden ground towards the brush to do his doggie business.  You decided to follow him.

But the ground was uneven, and you stumbled after a few steps, your hands and knees pressing down into the mud.  Maia, I wish I’d been taking video, because the way you reacted to this was hilarious.  Your face contorted into a fierce scowl and you let out this screech of absolute disgust as you scrambled to stand up.   You promptly retreated onto the sidewalk and, so help me, I could NOT get you to walk out onto the grass again.  You would not chase Joss and you would not come hug me — you just stood there, angry, fingers splayed wide and muddy palms outstretched.  That was the end of that little outing.

There were plenty of other outings this month, though.

Most notably, one of your playgroups has started up again.  So far, you have really enjoyed it, and you’re definitely one of “the big girls” there, far ahead of your peers in terms of how steady you are on your feet.  You run, Maia.  And you’re so strong.  You’re not interested in playing with one little toy; you want to lift up the entire box of toys and walk around with them.  You don’t want to sit in my lap to do arts and crafts, you want to sit on the chair by yourself and mess with the Play-Doh at your own pace (and “your own pace” seems to be pinching off little pieces of it and setting them to either side in neat little piles).

You’re still nursing several times a day — I’d venture to say five or six — which is surprising, given how much you love to eat.  You will nurse when you wake up, then stuff yourself full of Cheerios and fruit and juice, and an hour later you’ll walk over to me and start tugging at my shirt, demanding to nurse again.  Sometimes I wonder if you’re trying to get more attention from me and don’t really want to eat.  I guess I still have a lot to learn.

You eat everything and anything. It’s awesome.  Usually for lunch, you’ll have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but sometimes we’ll get adventurous and have grilled cheese.  Or we’ll have brunch, which is also one of your favourites; you love eggs, bacon, and toast.  I’ve found one thing you don’t really like so far, even though I called it an awesome name: “funfetti”, which is grated raw carrot mixed with shredded cheese.  You kind of poked at it, pushed it away, and that was that, you were finished with it, you wanted more strawberries and red grapes and Goldfish, thank you very much Mommy.

It’s amazing to watch you grow up, Squeaky (this is a new, very appropriate nickname).  You have always had such personality, but you outdo yourself every day.  I love you dearly, but moreso, I’m noticing how much your Daddy loves you.  When you two play together, it’s almost like I don’t even exist, because you are so wrapped up in one another, your big brown eyes shining, your smiling faces mirrors of each other.  But when you’re upset, you still want me, and sometimes this hurts him.  If you’re having trouble falling asleep and he comes to comfort you, you’ll wail and shriek and arch your back while protesting, “MA MA MA MA!” as he tries to rock you in his arms.  It’s frustrating to both of us, but I have to admit, there are few things as precious as when I take your sleepy weight into my arms and you wrap your legs around my torso and nuzzle your head into my shoulder.  You trust and love me so completely.

And you wanna know what?  The feeling’s mutual.

We love you,
Mama & Dada