Dear Chipmunk and LP,
You carried it faithfully for over two years, Chipmunk. From the time you started walking and talking, you’ve been a small yelling machine. After being such an easy going baby, I have to hand it to you, that was a good trick you played and me and your father.
Speaking of your father, I blame him for your prolonged torch carrying. He’s quick to anger and quick to forgive; you seem to take after him. (I think later, that characteristic will be endearing. Not right now though, sorry.) I admit that it gives me secret chuckles to watch you guys get under each others’ skin. Then again, I’m pretty sure he laughs just as hard when Mouse and I have week-long, silent standoffs.
LP, it looks like you are going to be a very diligent Trouble Torch bearer. Every morning you wake at sunrise and devote every single waking moment to something I’d rather you didn’t do.
My favorite is when you acquire small objects to drop into the heater intake. A lot of people think it is funny, that you couldn’t possibly know that it is wrong. I beg to differ, because when I spot you getting my driver’s license out of my wallet, it seems mightily suspicious that you high tail it to the heater grate with a maniacal laugh.
Let’s not forget the rearranging of anything and everything in a drawer, hurling food and utensils just for fun, or learning how to undo the baby gate before you learn to walk. Then there is the dying chicken squawk-cry that you have when you don’t get your way. That doesn’t get on my nerves at all.
I guess you’re both growing up. Chipmunk, you are turning into a little girl. LP, you are really getting the hang of toddlerhood. You’ve had a pretty hilarious relationship so far. I can’t say that LP has really appreciated you in the past, Chipmunk, but I think that is changing.
Aside from driving me to my wit’s end, you guys are doing pretty well. You should stick together, you’ll be the middle children, after all.
Your tired mother
Yes, you’ve officially been alive for 2.5 years. Seems like it is time to write you another letter. What can I say? You’re a pain in my ass right now.
There. Don’t ever tell me I wasn’t honest with you. Read the rest of this entry »
(I’m taking a break from my ranting for a sec. Just needed a little recharge before I went back, ya know?)
I don’t write about you enough on this blog. See, your sister is mercurial and talks a lot more than you (you’re catching up on that), and your brother has Down syndrome. Not that Down syndrome means so much in our daily lives, but I spend a lot of time thinking about it, thinking about the world’s ideas on it, thinking about how to foster change… just a lot of thinking. Read the rest of this entry »