Memo To Emmy: 20 + 21 Months

Dear Emmy,

I am so lame, for real. I missed your memo for 20 months and figured I'd just double up on the next one but no one told me that Terrible Twos start two months early for the special parents.

Month 20, you were awesome. When I asked, "Do you love Mommy?" you would actually say "Ya," instead of "N'oh?" You learned how to do the mini splits when we lift you up and command, "Emmy! Do the splits!" 

 

And you started to identify all the letters and numbers on your little Melissa & Doug puzzle. I don't know who Melissa or Doug is/are but I know we've spent a small fortune on their products and they're probably on a private island somewhere enjoying cocoa butter massages and sipping rum drinks out of a coconut. Why oh why didn't I invent wooden puzzles with giant knobs all over them?

Your favorite thing to do this month was say "Bye!" and shut the door in our faces. About 700 times in a row. Bye! BYE! BYYYYYYE!!! Never ever got old to you. And every single time Asian Grandma would get another gray hair and tell you, "Watch your fingers EMMY!" We had to buy a lot of hair dye that month.

But while you were behind closed doors you invented a game that you enjoyed for about 7 days and then you never wanted to do it again, so Mama's lucky she got this short little video. I have no idea who the woman repeating, "Good job Emmy" in the ear piercing screechy voice is. She's definitely not annoying or anything.

Excuse the poor lighting. We're not working with a lot in this rental.

You also developed this scary habit of having to see every picture and video that's taken of you, the instant after it's taken. That's what you did at the end of that video--stormed the photographer demanding to see what's on the camera. Sean Penn paparazzi toddler. 

You're hardcore into Sesame street. Three words you'd never think to put together: hardcore + Sesame Street. But that's your favorite thing to watch in the morning while drinking your milk. Is TV rotting your brain already? I don't know. Your dad watched a lot of TV and look, he's a doctor! I was wandering around as a refugee toddler on the beaches of Malaysia at your age. No TV. And look, I'm a reporter! TV's probably not so bad for you.

Then you turned the corner heading into this past month. You went from my sweet girl to The Toddler That Will CUTTTTT YOU if you try to change her diaper when she doesn't want it changed. Or brush her teeth when she's not in the mood. One day, when Dada got called back into work and Mama was getting you ready for naptime, you became the Bon Qui Qui baby. Welcome to King Burger where you will NOT have it your way. You can have a Coke. No milkshake for me, you refused to open your mouth, stand, or do anything except melt into a crying cesspool of indignation because God forbid Mama protects you from gray teeth and gingivitis. 

I don't know who this terrible almost two year old is but it is cray-zizzles. The new crinkle face eyes and pouty lips and vigorous head shaking is out of con-treezy. Look, you're causing Mommy to start speaking like Snoop Dogg because your attitude is wackitude.

Lucky for you, your speech is so endearing. You gesture dramatically and sound like you're performing Shakespeare in French with a German accent. Or you speak English, at most 2 syllables at a time, and add a "tsch" or a hard "kuh" to random words because you think they sound better that way. So "pink" becomes "pintsch!" And Bert becomes "Betsch!" Or the number one in Vietnamese, which is "mot," becomes "mokh!" You're a very enthusiastic little language butcher. The counting is really awesome. You count to ten in Vietnamese and English. Eight! is your favorite number. 

Dada taught you to say "cool!" And "whoa!" So when you two are together it's like Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventures.

As you know, I love to document your every pee and poo-portunity and you hit a big milestone. You now say, "Poop!" and clutch your diaper when it's time to drop some kids off at the pool. And you deliver about 90% of the time. Sometimes you just want to sit on your padded seat and hold me captive because you know I won't leave you perched on a toilet for fear you'll lean forward, fall off, and DIE. So I sit on the floor staring at you and you cock your head and smile. 

White Grandma witnessed your almost terrible twosome tendencies firsthand. I pushed your sleeves up so you wouldn't dunk them in your ketchup. But just as I sat back down, you looked me dead in the eye, gave me the Dirty Harry stare down, and yanked each sleeve back down. Total defiance in front of an elder. You would not last long in the old country, my friend. Vietnamese babies get sent to the Communists for those kinds of stunts. 

But alas, you have charmed all of your extended family. Asian Grandma's sister is always knitting hats for you and they are unlike any to be purchased at Baby Gap or its retail ilk. Purely homespun with love. And as Dada noticed, unique. Like this one, with a flower on the side, a fold up brim, AND earflaps with tie strings. Just try to find THAT on eBay.

 

You're one of a kind and we're getting to know which kind with every new day. We love you, because even when you're terrible, you remind us of how awesome you are when you're not. 

Happy 20 + 21 months Emmy! As you would say, "Happy!" and I would say, "Birthday," and you would say, "to," and I would say, "you!" That's another new habit. You like to fill in the gaps for popular phrases instead of saying the whole thing.  Complete sentences are so 2000-late.

Love you little mayhem,

Mama and Dada

Vicky NguyenBloggity, Emmy Memo