Dear Annika,
I didn't quite manage to write a letter for you last month, so this one is for the past two months combined.
At the beginning of your 8th month, we went to West Virginia for a weekend to meet our friends Lisa and Jeff, and Molly with her three Jack Russell terriers. We stayed in an A-frame cabin just outside the town of Berkeley Springs. I was somewhat surprised to find that there really are springs there, with a long history of use by those seeking health and pleasure. We didn't actually use the springs, but we went hiking, visited some shops downtown, played Star Wars Trivia at the cabin, and generally enjoyed spending time with friends. You were delighted by the dogs, and for the most part they seemed to like you, too. You got plenty of doggy kisses, and had fun crawling around on the floor after them.
By the time Thanksgiving came, you had gotten pretty good at eating small pieces of grown-up food - and in fact, you ate a nearly complete Thanksgiving dinner off of my fingertips. Two Thanksgiving dinners, rather; one at Grandma and Grandpa Karel's house, and one at the Khavin's. I was thrilled that you were so willing to try any sort of food that came your way - I'd like to think that it means you will be an adventurous and unfussy eater all your life, but I know that as a toddler you will probably feel the need to express strong opinions about everything, including food.
Already, you have strong opinions about a number of things: the undesirability of getting dressed and changed; having to take medicine from a dropper; the acceptability of baby food when there is "real" food to be had; the way that Mommy should read books to you. You don't have much use yet for books as stories, but you love to look at the pictures, and preferably to turn the pages yourself. You'll spend a while on your own just sitting with a book and flipping from the front cover, to a page inside, to the back cover, to another page inside. Sometimes, you will let me read to you, even though I do it all wrong.
For the past month or so, one of your favorite pastimes is to bang with your hands on any surface that makes noise, or even some that don't. Your dad seems to be succeeding in his goal of teaching you to be a drummer; already you can alternate drumming with each hand in rapid succession. I'm still hoping that maybe you will opt for piano or guitar instead. You love playing with dad's acoustic guitar, or with the piano at Grandma and Grandpa's place. Or, maybe you will sing - that seems to be your favorite way of soothing yourself to sleep.
One weekend in December, we went to visit Daniel and Sarah, and you had a great time playing their keyboard, crawling around chasing a laser-dot, frightening their cat, and reading books. Here are some photos and videos that Daniel got (some earlier, most from the recent visit) http://www.flickr.com/photos/3e/sets/72157611305385180/
When we went to Grandma and Grandpa Khavin's house for Grandma Yelena's birthday (which also happens to be Christmas Day), of course you got lots of attention from everyone. Uncle Igor's dog Sammy is very fond of you - she licks your feet, gives you "kisses", and whenever you cry, she acts very worried.
For New Year's Eve, you dad and I went up to New Jersey, but you stayed with Grandma and Grandpa Karel. I'm sure you would have lobbied to stay up and party past midnight, if only you could talk.
You're working on figuring out how to talk, I think. Recently, you started trying to say "cat" although it comes out more like "gaah". You often look at me and say something like, "goo-gah!" with such an expressive look that I'm certain you're trying to convey something and I'm just not getting it. The idea that your parents "just don't get it" starts well before the teenage years, evidently.
Love,
Mama
Monday, January 5, 2009
7 months, catching up
Some commentary before the monthly letter: admittedly, I fell off the news-posting bandwagon for two months. This is her 7-month letter, which I wrote down on time - just after the 2008 election - but didn't actually post until now.
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Dear Annika,
In your newsletters so far, I have focused on you to the exclusion of the rest of the world - what could be more important, after all, than a new baby? But this month, the amazing things that you have been doing should be set in the context of the amazing things happening in the rest of the world.
The year of your birth is turning out to be a very eventful one. At its beginning, while you were still in the womb, your father's beloved Giants won the Superbowl. The summer and fall brought the beginnings of a financial crisis that is still unfolding; it is said that it's the worst one since the Great Depression. Banks failed, and stock markets around the world plunged. For the city of Philadelphia, all of that was forgotten briefly on October 29th, when the Phillies won the World Series for the first time in 25 years. On November 4th, America elected Barack Obama as the nation's 44th persident. I hope that by the time you're reading these letters, there will seem nothing remarkable about a black person, or a woman, becoming president. I hope that you'll need a good imagination to picture an America where that wasn't possible. For the first time in eight years, I am optimistic that when you are my age, and you look back at what has happened in the world during your lifetime, you will see positive changes and progress.
Of course, you are a poster child for progress yourself, and when I come home and you hold out your arms to me, everything else is secondary.
This month, you discovered how to crawl, and you're delighted by your newfound mobility. Trena reports that you stood up for the first time this week - and promptly let go of the sofa you used to pull up, and fell over. Progress is not without its setbacks. But you don't give up easily, I've noticed, when there is something you want. Last night you wanted to drink from my water glass, so I let you try. You had some difficulties, kept trying to gulp too much at one time and ended up gasping and spluttering, but you kept eagerly leaning forward to try again, with a look of very intense concentration.
You're highly interested, in fact, in anything that grown-ups are drinking - water, coffee, orange juice, beer, soda. We've let you sneak a tiny taste of both coffee and beer - your Swedish great-grandmother Lillian was so delighted to hear that you liked coffee! We've also started tentatively trying to feed you foods that aren't pureed, but you're not very good at chewing. You like to try things that we're eating, but you tend to gag on anything with pieces too big to swallow easily. We figure you'll get there eventually, though.
Love,
Mama
*******************************************************
Dear Annika,
In your newsletters so far, I have focused on you to the exclusion of the rest of the world - what could be more important, after all, than a new baby? But this month, the amazing things that you have been doing should be set in the context of the amazing things happening in the rest of the world.
The year of your birth is turning out to be a very eventful one. At its beginning, while you were still in the womb, your father's beloved Giants won the Superbowl. The summer and fall brought the beginnings of a financial crisis that is still unfolding; it is said that it's the worst one since the Great Depression. Banks failed, and stock markets around the world plunged. For the city of Philadelphia, all of that was forgotten briefly on October 29th, when the Phillies won the World Series for the first time in 25 years. On November 4th, America elected Barack Obama as the nation's 44th persident. I hope that by the time you're reading these letters, there will seem nothing remarkable about a black person, or a woman, becoming president. I hope that you'll need a good imagination to picture an America where that wasn't possible. For the first time in eight years, I am optimistic that when you are my age, and you look back at what has happened in the world during your lifetime, you will see positive changes and progress.
Of course, you are a poster child for progress yourself, and when I come home and you hold out your arms to me, everything else is secondary.
This month, you discovered how to crawl, and you're delighted by your newfound mobility. Trena reports that you stood up for the first time this week - and promptly let go of the sofa you used to pull up, and fell over. Progress is not without its setbacks. But you don't give up easily, I've noticed, when there is something you want. Last night you wanted to drink from my water glass, so I let you try. You had some difficulties, kept trying to gulp too much at one time and ended up gasping and spluttering, but you kept eagerly leaning forward to try again, with a look of very intense concentration.
You're highly interested, in fact, in anything that grown-ups are drinking - water, coffee, orange juice, beer, soda. We've let you sneak a tiny taste of both coffee and beer - your Swedish great-grandmother Lillian was so delighted to hear that you liked coffee! We've also started tentatively trying to feed you foods that aren't pureed, but you're not very good at chewing. You like to try things that we're eating, but you tend to gag on anything with pieces too big to swallow easily. We figure you'll get there eventually, though.
Love,
Mama
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