20 months

Dear Sweet Baby,

You are 20 months old and we love you so much. That should come as no surprise. We think you are so fun and funny and just all-aroud-awesome. In that respect nothing much as changed. Daddy and I look at each other every day and marvel at how much we like you. You make us smile and laugh so much.

You still love "sa"s

You have learned so much in the last few months. Running, jumping, and talking up a storm occupy our days. You are just starting to put together some phrases. "Bobbin Song" was your first word combo. You love to sing "Wind the Bobbin Up" and ask for it often. You are also working on manners. You know the signs for "please" and "thank you". If I ask you to ask for something nicely you are very good at adding please to your request. Sometimes you sign it, sometimes you say it, and sometimes you do both. You will sign "thank you" when prompted, but haven't started saying it yet. It's really interesting to me to see how your language develops. You are maintaining a neat combination of signing and speaking.

You are learning so much and we've inadvertently taught you a few queues that we think are hilariously awesome. When someone says "fast feet" you run in place. When someone says "What are you gonna do?" you put your hands out as if shrugging your shoulders. When you are cheering yourself or someone else on at an accomplishment you will put your arms up in the air and say "Did it!".

So cute

Perhaps our absolute favourite is your response to the question "Are you OK?". If you are, in fact, ok- you respond "Sha sha". It is too sweet. We're not sure if you're saying "ok" or something else, but it clearly means "Yep. I'm fine." We ask you multiple times a day, just to hear you say it. It is also useful because if you're upset or have had a little tumble we can ask and know that you're no seriously upset or in pain. I need to get it on video. I'll be very sad when you say it. Same goes for you saying "bup" instead of up. Sweet boy!

You love to climb and slide. You are finally getting on board with swimming. You think Mommy and Daddy have beautiful singing voices (You're not wrong about Mommy ;)). I think your favourite activity is bath time. You LOVE to slip and slide while the water is draining. Bath time is both my least and most favourite time of day. Least because it's the end of the day and sometimes I'm just tired and thinking ahead to the dinner that still needs making after you go to bed. And most because you are so cute and fun, splashing in the water and laughing your sweet little giggle. Needless to say, the giggle wins.

You don't believe me when I tell you bath water is yucky.

Your sleep is still great. I could do with a longer nap. You're down to just around and hour in the afternoon. But! You generally sleep from 7PM to 8AM, so I can't complain. You are doing fine with eating and are starting to come out of a picky phase. You love fruit, cheese, and raw cabbage. Pickles and olives are a must. Generally, you want a bite of anything Daddy is eating. Even if you've just finished a meal.

I always said "I just don't understand those mothers that won't cut their son's hair. Mooning over curls." Well I eat my words. Your curls are glorious. I am worried that they will be ruined by a haircut, so I'm holding out until you start to look like a girl. Daddy doesn't mind, given that he'd forgo haircuts altogether if he could. 

You are still a bit shy when we go to toddler groups. You don't cling to me, but you are hesitant to fully join in. You won't really do the motions to songs, even though you do them with me at home. I think you just like to check things out and take the lay of the land before joining in. I can't disagree with that approach. 

Ribbon hat at music group

You are your mother's son and are really into accessories. Sunglasses, hats, bags. It's not unusual for you to cycle through multiple hats in a day. You love to carry bags, throwing them over your arm and saying "Bye-bye" cheerfully. On the other hand, you are also a Daddy's boy. You generally want Daddy to pick you up and hold you when you're upset and lately you are very unhappy if you and I go somewhere without Daddy. Daddy just beams at you. You are free and easy with kisses for both of us, though for some reason, Daddy is often greeted with a head bowed. You present your head, sometimes even the back of your neck for kisses. I more frequently get your mouth or cheek. When you give hugs you go "Ahhh" contentedly. 

I can't believe how much you have changed and grown in the last few months. Every day you do or say something new and we think "how did you learn that?!!?" You are an amazing little man. I say it every letter, but we adore you. Every day, you make my heart full of love. I think you are the best thing I've ever done. 

Love you so much,

Mommy

Stages of Expat-dom

Every expat certainly hits several milestones in their journey. There are those firsts- firsts that let you know you're really not at home any more. And then they let you know that you're starting to consider this new place home. The two kinds of moments don't transition seamlessly from one kind to the other. They blend and overlap.

There's the first time you buy new toiletries and realize that you can't get your trusted deodorant/moisturiser/razor. There's the first time you need some new clothes and you want to cry because you can't wrap your head around the fact that you have to go up 2 sizes in England. (Not that you are actually bigger, but that doesn't matter to your irrational brain that is tied to the number of your American size.)

There's the time that you realized you looked right at a crosswalk, rather than left without even thinking about it. There are those times when you stumble over your words because your brain can't keep straight the American and British word choices. You can't figure out the right way to say it and then end up saying something that is a bizarre mix of the two that would make sense to neither an American or a Brit. Awesome!

There's the time your Mom asks is a phrase you used was British and your answer is "huh... well, if you didn't understand it, then it must be..." Then there's the time that you hear yourself say something and cringe. The other day, I had one of those moments. I was on the phone with someone and they asked if the number I had called from was the best number to reach me at. I heard myself reply, "Yes, it's my mobile". And not just mobile like I would normally say it (mo-bull). No, I said moBILE.

cringe

I heard it as it was coming out of my mouth. I even said "Oh my god. I can't believe I just said that. Who am I?" as soon as I said it. It was horrifying and hilarious. It was possibly my biggest milestone yet. I think I have to accept that my G'ma is right. I'm starting to sound a little bit British. (I'd always maintained that this was ridiculous and she's just going deaf.)

I'll tell you something, though. It's an expat milestone that has me surprisingly flustered. It demonstrates that I'm not fully entrenched in my new culture. I need new underwear. I've never bought underwear in England. There's no Target (my go-to underwear spot). The sizes are different. It's not that big a deal. I'm sure they have something at M&S that would be just fine, and yet... I'm dragging my feet. Perhaps I'm displaying my patriotism through my undergarments? Who knows.

What have your expat milestones been?

Did you experience any strange hang-ups that surprised you?

It's about the egg cup...

There are many times in my relationship with Ross where I've asked a variation of this question:

"Is that because you're British, or because you're you?"

Something happens, or he says something, and I wonder- is his reaction/answer weird to me because of our cultural differences, or because he's a weird guy. (A wonderful, kooky, lovely, weird guy.) Sometimes, he's not sure. Then I have to ask my friends about it so they can tell me if it's a cultural thing or a Ross thing.

And now, an example.

Are you familiar with egg cups? If you are British, the answer is "Certainly!". I'm not sure any more, but I don't think I'd ever heard of one before moving to the UK. They go crazy for them here.

standard issue egg cup

There are cute ones, funny ones, personalized ones, fancy ones. They are often sold in gift sets. There even exists such a thing as an egg cozy. You know, to keep your egg warm in the brief period of time between when goes into the egg cup and when you eat it.

Get a whole book about them!

Anyway. I get that they are a British staple. I get that they are commonly used- a standard English breakfast food is Eggs & Soldiers. I think I might have used one a couple of times. Ross uses one maybe once a month.

The thing is... we have at least 11. And that's just ones I can think of off the top of my head. Because they're visible in my kitchen without opening any cabinets or digging around. So there are probably more squirrelled away in the recesses of our flat. ELEVEN! For 2 people.

Why? Is this a British thing? To have more egg cups than your household needs? To have several sets of different designs and styles? Or is it just because my husband's family is weird? And likes egg cups to an excessive extent?

In closing, I present a clip from one of my favorite episodes of one of my favorite British sitcoms. It's long, but there's no good way to explain the title of this post without watching quite a bit.

FYI. It's not about the egg cup. 

Is there anything that you randomly have a lot of? Please, tell me I'm not alone.

Words

Because I believe that words have power, I think a lot about what I say to Linus. For many months I've said the same thing to Linus as I put him down for naps and night sleep. The words came spontaneously and remained unaltered for many months.

"You are sweet and smart and beautiful and funny. Mommy and Daddy love you. Grandma and Grandpa love you. You'll go to sleep and have sweet dreams and when you wake up, we'll have a wonderful afternoon/day."

I believe that the words he hears and the intent behind them will soak into his soul. I want him to have these words written on his heart, so he can carry them with him all his life. I believe it is my job as his mother to lay the foundations of self esteem and that, even this small speech, whispered lovingly into his ear every day, will help him.

To that effect, I started thinking about the words I was saying. I decided to amend two of my words. I decided that, while he is sweet, KIND is the word I'd like to steep him in. "You are kind" became the beginning of my sleepy time speech. Sweet is nice. It makes others smile. But- it feels more surface. Like a veneer of sugar. Kind is nice and makes others smile, but it can be revolutionary in a way that sweetness cannot. A small act of true kindness can change lives. I hope that Linus will have a kind spirit.

The other change I made was prompted by an article a friend shared on Facebook. I started to think about the implications of telling Linus that he his smart. The article made me think. It made me think about the fact that, here in Britain, babies and small children are most often praised for being clever.

Smart. Clever. At first glance, it might just seem to be one of the hundreds of instances where the two cultures have differing preferences for similar words. The more I thought about it, however, I came to believe that there's more to it than that. There is a deep-rooted difference in cultural attitudes in the US and the UK. The US is shiny and new. It is confident, loud and brash. It is full of people who would hold up flashing neon signs proclaiming that they are the greatest thing since sliced bread. And increasingly, children who's parents are willing to spend all their time and energy holding up their signs for them. The UK is ancient and staid. It is self-deprecating and stoic. It's people love to complain, but are also famous for their ability to suck it up and quietly do what needs to be done without a show or expecting of praise. Their is even an unspoken mindset that is isn't done to be too striving or self-confident, or flashy.

I thought about the two words and how they are different. In some subtle way, they are each completely reflecting of their respective cultures. Smart is something that you are- without trying, without doing anything to earn. You are smart because you are smart. Your brain is uniquely, inherently superior. Clever, on the other hand, has a subtle implication of more than that. A clever person doesn't just know the answer. They are intelligent enough to work to figure it out. And I like that. I like the idea of instilling in Linus the confidence that he has the resources to figure things out. That he can work hard and exercise his beautiful mind. That his natural-born abilities are not all he has. He has the resourcefulness to reach beyond himself. Does that make sense? It may just be reading too much into a word, but it rings true with me.

And so, I decided to alter half of my words. I take no issue with the other two. Beautiful is exactly what he is. He is beautiful of body and spirit. His very creation is beautiful, regardless of the (admittedly stunning) package. And funny. He's just so, so funny. Which is important. Terribly important.

So I now tell him that he is: kind, clever, beautiful, funny. Because he is. And he always will be. And it's important that he knows it. And so I tell him.

Do you see a difference between smart and clever?
What words do you want to wrap your loved ones in?

I really think I mean it this time.

I've pulled out my laptop for the first time in months. It started up slowly, but seems to be kicking along fine now. (Well... fine for a 5 year old laptop!)
I've had a bit of bloggerblock lately. (I don't know if you noticed. The tale tell clue was the fact that I haven't written anything besides letters to Linus in MONTHS.) I know I've said before that I was going to get back on the horse, but I really think I mean it this time. More and more, these days, I'm finding myself thinking "Oh, that would make a good blog post!" I think that means I should get my butt in gear again.
I don't know how many readers I have any more between the demise of Reader and my radio silence, but I know my mom always enjoys when I post. (Hi Mom! Love you.)

I will share with you a new exciting thing in my life. Do you know about autoawesome? Ross and I just discovered it. Our phones automatically sync with Google+, so all of our pictures get uploaded automatically. The great thing is, Google Pictures (formerly Picasa) will take series of 5 or more pictures and automatically create gifs. It is awesome. Since gifs aren't easy to share on Facebook, we wanted an easy place to share them with friends and family. In case any of your are curious, you can follow our gifs (which are nearly all, unsurprisingly Linus-related) at www.awesomewag.blogspot.com

Mostly I just wanted to tell you about it so you could get your own awesome gifs.
Like this.

Happy Baby

Anyone still out there? How are y'all? What's new?