Memo to Odessa: 21.5 Months
You are growing cuter and smarter by the day. I feel so remiss for not updating this memo sooner. But I've been taking notes ma'am. You have this raspy little voice and adorable bashful grin that's somehow mischievous at the same time.
You talk so much now. Lots of questions and phrases. "Hello Emmy/Tofu/Romeo." "What dat sound?" "What's his name?" "Where's Gramma?" "It smells good." It is seriously one of the best feelings of the parenthood experience when you hear your baby come up with her own questions and ideas. You still say Meema and Poopa but now you can say Gramma and Grampa. It doesn't matter what you call them, they answer to all your demands.
You're smart. You know that when you climb over the makeshift ottoman/outdoor cushion barricade that we've propped up as a baby gate, you call for help by notifying Gramma that you've breached the security system. You don't hesitate in the face of danger but you always sound the alarm before things get too dangerous.
Your Vietnamese is excellent! You know so many words and phrases in both languages and you know who to use them with. Your Vietnamese is already way better than Daddy's. Good job Meema.
You play well by yourself and just this weekend, I watched you and Emmy play together where she directed you and you actually listened and there was no biting or hitting attempts involved. A preview into the future I hope.
You can answer our questions about whether you napped or if you have to poop. This is major. Over the past 3 months, you've rarely pooped in a diaper. Hallelujah!
"I reading!" "I eating!" "I sleepy." "I 'wake!" "I boreddd." "I hungry." You've pretty much gotten the "me" and "you" concept. Except for when it comes to being picked up.
"Mommy carry you?" Emmy said this when she was your age too. Instead of saying, "Carry me," you've heard us say "You want me to carry you?" so much you've abbreviated it to just raising your arms and saying, "Carry you?" Or else it's just, "Gramma, gramma, gramma, gramma, gramma," Or, "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." Or, "Daddee, daddee, daaaadeeee." You're very persistent and other than how heavy you are, it's quite satisying to "carry you." You give big hugs and wrap your arms and legs around us. You lean your big noggin into my neck and I can just kiss your fat puffy cheeks and breathe in your wispy hair. Definitely worth the price of admission.
You've also encountered your first major illness. Poor baby. "I barf. I barf." You had a terrible phlegmy cough and your coughing would sometimes get you so worked up you would throw up. Then you got better. Then Emmy got sick. Then you got PNEUMONIA. PNEUMONIA!!!!!!! Miserable, cranky, achy. Thankfully it is not contagious but we're downing the Costco bottles of Airborne anyway. Children are germ factories.
You've been mostly a trooper through the whole thing. You love to snuggle and listen to Daddy's lullabies. It's the most still you've been since you started walking. You walked around saying, "I need help. I need helllpppp," in a froggy voice. And "Boogers. Help. I have boogers." Pretty heartwrenching. Mostly you're OK with us using the greatest invention ever to suck your snot out. The satisfaction of getting a tubeful of mucus out of your child's nose is pretty unparalleled.
You're bouncing back now thanks to your antibiotics "yogurt."
Whenever we tell you to be careful or be gentle, you say, "I know. I know." Or "All right, all right." Lucky for you, those gapped front teeth and chubby cheeks still allow you to be adorable enough to be excused for your apparent disregard for authority.
You have little swatty hands and kicky feet that we still have to remind you to keep to yourself when you try to hit Emmy unprovoked. The pneumonia has you especially aggro. Which reminds me of a time when I told Daddy not to be so aggro and you repeated, "Daddy no aggro." Your comic timing is excellent for a not yet 2 year old.
In summary, we enjoy you and your little antics so much. You are a fearless sidekick with your "Oh la la" exclamations and your husky baritone "Hello" when you're doing the voice of a "boy" stuffed animal.
You're full of hijinks and always asking to see the Ylvis video. "What the fox say?" We love you little Dessy.
Mama and Papa