I owe all you Pumpkin fans a big apology for the inexcusable delay since my last post. While I acknowledge it was inexcusable, let me give you my excuses – since we last read about Pumpkin we’ve had Ganny come in for a visit, which coincided with 4th of July weekend, which was wonderful but ended with Pumpkin coming down with another ear infection and croup (in July!), which immediately preceded my brand new car going in the shop for unknown technical difficulties the day before our A/C went out. Having said all that, I humbly apologize one more time. There really is no excuse.
It hasn’t all been tragedy and woe on the Pumpkin-front (as if there were any doubt about that). I know I sound like a broken record, but Pumpkin is constantly changing before my eyes and it never ceases to amaze me. She truly has left tiny babydom for toddling little girldom. We’ve come so far that we are even considering a first haircut and are in serious negotiations over the stripping of the paci. Stay tuned, those are both sure to warrant posts of their own (and see photo for evidence of the undeniable attachment to said paci).
The most remarkable developments of late have been in the communication department. One year ago at this time I was just returning from maternity leave and as far as communication went, my little Pumpkin was not much more advanced than a squeak toys. It was all cause and effect – like stepping on a squeak toy – if she was hungry, she squeaked; dirty, she squeaked. Other than that is what quiet and I spent many of those quiet moments wondering if I had the most serious, silent baby on Earth. Those of you that know Pumpkin now see the hilarity in that consideration, for she is neither serious nor silent. In fact, now, just 12 short months later, she can actually communicate her thoughts – not just physical needs but her preferences and desires (thoughts like “I’m taking Mickey Mouse to school whether you like it or not, mama” as shown in photo below) – and she can share many of these thoughts using words (though very caveman-like words, they are words nonetheless).
Just last night we were playing and Hubby would tell her to “get the blue ball” or “get the red ball” and she could not only follow the instruction, but could differentiate between the balls and would deliver it with a hard toss and a “bah” (translation: “ball”). Then, the marvel of all marvels, I said “let’s go take a bath” and Pumpkin’s little open palm reached up for mine and she led me to the bathroom. I was floored.
Well, let's be honest. I wasn't so much floored as I was shrieking-freaking-out-excited and made a complete spaz of myself. I do have to be careful to temper my own jubilation at these accomplishments, because when Pumpkin looked at me with that confused, furrowed brow I realized she might take my reaction as a negative. I promptly calmed myself and gave her a hug and a little "yay" clap to assure her she was doing only good, but I was still spazzing on the inside.
It’s not just that I am thrilled about her displays of brilliance (which I never doubted), but I am selfishly elated about the fact that I can now, finally communicate with my little Pumpkin. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted that until now I can finally do it. Sure, I’ve always had some bit of instinct towards what she wanted at a giving time – though I must admit most of that which I call “instinct” was far from innate and had more to do with checking the clock and consulting the internet than any actual instinct I may purport to have.
It’s not just being able to meet her needs anymore and that is what is exciting – it’s about her actually becoming her own person and me getting to know that little person. Including pregnancy, she’s been a part of me now for almost two years (and longer if we want to get spiritual and talk about the time I was praying and planning for her), and now, after two years I am finally getting to really know her, independent of me, and I love her more than I ever thought possible.
The flip side of that is that I’ve had to recognize, at only 14 months old, that what I just said is true – there is a “her” independent of “me.” I thought I’d have 14 years before I came to that realization. That part is thrilling but also frightening. I want to support and encourage that “her”, nurturing her talents and passions, but still protect her and lead and teach her. It’s a fine balance that I never appreciated parents have to strike. I know the only way I’ll come anywhere close is by trusting her (and myself) to God and knowing he will guide and protect our little family. As evidenced by the photo of her behind the altar, I sometimes think she "gets it" better than I do, because it can sometimes be hard for a control freak like me.
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