Memo to Emmy: 15 Months

Hello My Little Carbohydrate Eater!

You're a nose crinkling, fish nugget eating, outdoors-going full on toddler these days. Complete with a newly acquired case of Mommyitis. I'm your new BFF and it drives your dada a little batty that you've grown into a maternal Klingon.

But we are all so proud of your latest accomplishment. Asian Grandma has been moved to near tears by this development. You are The Poop Whisperer. 

You tell us when you have the urge to drop some kids off at the pool. You just start going, "Uhh uhh uhh." And then we ask, "Emmy, do you have to go potty?" And you beeline it to the bathroom. One time you just walked straight to the bathroom and started banging on the door to get our attention. It is your most endearing trick yet, even better than showing us your tongue or pointing to your eyebrows. Because this trick ensures Mama doesn't have to open up a Rocky Road diaper of STANK. And there is nothing more satisfying than plopping your little buns onto a padded toilet seat and hearing the sweet sounds of nature. 

You've had your first introduction to the best fast food dessert on Planet Earth. KFC strawberry parfait. You had no idea what to expect when I called you over to my sublime spoonful of sugary perfection. That little plastic cup of high fructose corn syrup, artificial cream, and manufactured cake set the endorphin meter off the chart when I was a little kid going to Gifted and Talented Education (all you California public school kids, remember G.A.T.E.?) Asian Grandma would pick me up every Tuesday after school with a box: two extra crispy drumsticks, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, a biscuit, and one strawberry parfait to be sporked out of the cup and into my mouth.

One day before you turned 15 months, I decided to pass the shortcake to my own little shortcake. Does this set you up for a lifetime of poor food habits? I think you shall overcome. To see your little mouth tasting the creamy goodness of whipped cream and frozen strawberry product. You didn't even move from your spot. Just chewed. Swallowed. And opened your little bird mouth for more. Oh Babycakes, you're hooked. 

You've also had your first taste of candy. Watermelon sweet and sour belts, no less. It was not my choice. You zeroed in on the bag in my purse and Asian Grandma bent to your will. We've all been there.

But the teeth brushing is going well. You have a total of 14 teeth now; the fangs are the newest ones. Your dental hygienist great aunt Tina suggested we floss between any of your teeth that are touching. We suggested she's nuts.

You can start the first half of a somersault all by yourself, a neat trick Dada taught you. I'm always relieved when we assist you through the second half and you don't end up with a faceful of barf.

You now wear a size 4 shoe. And your boots were made for walkin'. All over the backyard and anywhere else your toes touch the ground. You can not stand for any sort of dirt to be stuck on your feet or hands and require us to remove any microscopic specks immediately because you insist, "I can feel something stuck there." Which may explain why you hated standing on the beach so much. Wayyyyy too many specks to deal with.

The doctor said today you are 20lbs and 10oz, putting you into the 17th percentile. Your height is now 31.25in so you are in the 76th percentile, no longer a total shrimp. And your head, your dependably large noggin, remains in the 89th% at 47.5cm around. Nice work Emmy.

You met your pals Sofia and Rio, both around 9 months old and almost dwarfing you already. 

It's them durn all-American genes! 

Every day you are growing up and you look so different than you did even just a month ago. Now I understand why everyone says to savor every moment. It really flies by and I try to inhale as much of your baby neck and jowls into my lungs as I can before you shove me away with your chubby hands.

Love you and your fat belly,

Mama and "Mama" aka Dada