Dear Boo Boo Chicken,

Well, it’s official; you survived us.  12 whole months with you has felt like 12 minutes.  From your perspective, spending 12 months with the three of us?  Well, it must feel like a lifetime.  Ha! Ha!

This past month you finally put your mind to catching up on a few things.  You went from Tooth Count: ZERO to Tooth Count: 6 and more a-comin’.  As painful as I’m sure that had to be, you tolerated it well.  I can’t begin to make a list of all the new foods you’ve tried, but I will say I’m most impressed by your ability to eat corn chips with your nubbin teeth.  Anyone that dedicated to junk food is surely my kid.

You woke up from a nap one random day, and you suddenly had hair.  I’ve religiously brushed the 3 strands you’ve had since birth, but now, you have actual clumps of hair.  I managed to lodge a bow in your hair for pictures, but it was precarious.  Now Blondie, if you could figure a way to turn this bright yellowish white mop of yours to black, that would be swell.  Your sister asked me last week, “Mommy, why you hab brack hair?”  The better question would be to you both, “Where is YOUR black hair?  I was supposed to have daughters with black hair.  Everyone knows this.”  Blonde, huh?  What’s done is done.  We’ll have to make it work.

Let’s get to the big news Miss Frito-Lay: you are walking.  And when I say walking, I mean RUNNING.  Forever you’ve behaved as a typical 2nd child, which is to say…you’re in no hurry.  Just standing has seemed challenging for you; so much so, that you spent many attempts sitting down with a “forget this mess” look on your face.  Then suddenly, you took two steps.  Then four.  While these steps are barely on balance, yesterday you ran down the hall.  At every second I was sure you’d fall, but onward you plunged.

In your usual “this world is mine and I’m going to EAT IT” attitude, you took OUT the driveway today.  Walking, walking, fall forward, elbows gave out at an inopportune moment, and your forehead took a dive.  I heard the knock as my hands grabbed at your thighs.  Honey, you’ve fallen about a trillion times in these past 2 weeks (as you INSIST on walking everywhere), and you’ll fall a trillion more.  I wish I had better news.  You screamed bloody murder until Daddy got a hold of you, and voila!  All boo boos healed.  You have a lovely trio of scratches on your forehead, eyebrow, and nose to prove your bravery.

I love your new found chattiness.  You’ve been a relatively quiet child, save for the teradactyl squawking, present since your first breath of air.  But, along with all the other newness of this month, you decided to join the conversation.  You “da da da” through dinner conversation.  You “da da da” while “reading” books to me.  You “da da da” for entire car trips.  Because you have a 2  year old constantly buzzing around your ear, you are trying desperately to talk.  After your bedtime bottle (which I have NO INTENTION of weaning anytime soon BABY girl), you sit upright and belt out, “BOO!”, pointing to your stack of books.  I pick up “‘Brown Bear, Brown Bear”, and you say, “Be-rrrrr”.  Duck is “Du”, and Dog is “Dawwww”.  Cat is “Tat”.  But, just like your sister, Daddy is….Daddy.  The -dy is subtle, but when you are determined (ie hurt, tired, pissed off, in need of a cuddle), Dad-dy is your man.  That’s not to say you’re not a Momma’s girl, but you seem to know you have me on the hook approximately 24 hours a day, 8 days a week.  I say 8, because there’s always one day per week when both you and Sara are in crap moods, making that day twice as long as the others.

I guess I can best encapsulate this month with the funniest little memory.  We were driving home on a Sunday afternoon, and Daddy rolled down your window.  The weather this summer has been unforgettably beautiful.  I looked back, and your chubby little hands were dancing over the gusts.  You were giggling uncontrollably as you tried to catch the wind.  You smacked at it, you grabbed, you even tried to pull…but there was no turning that air into anything material that you could hold onto.

Those are my days with you.  I’ve spent the past 4 months gluing, cutting, tying, and stenciling every piece of tissue paper in the state.  Most have wondered aloud to me, “Why Lori?  Why would you go to all the trouble to recreate Candy Land as a first birthday party theme?  It’s too much bother.  Too much mess.”  Because my time with you and Sara feels like the wind, rushing past me and taking my breath away.  I never know how long the wind will blow.  How many refreshing gusts I will be granted before it has all rushed past me?  I thought if maybe I commemorated it, stapled it, and covered it with glitter, this AMAZING year would become real.  A ceremony befitting of a year of wonderfulness I never thought possible.  12 months ago I prepared myself for long nights, colic, exhaustion and coughs and colds, etc and on and on.  But instead, we got you.  Happiness, joy, smiles and giggles.  We must have had a trying moment or two, but right now, nothing comes to mind.

Kelly, I swear on my life, if I could do this year all over again, I would in a second.  Nothing could ever be too much trouble for you.  No amount of time I spend with you will ever be enough.

Your Devoted Party Planner (pay me in hugs and kisses),

Mommy

To view SIXTY Pictures of Candy Land, click here