First Love

Dear Connor,

When Daddy and I were in college, Daddy told me that he loved me just a few weeks after we'd started dating (Yes, that is kind of fast and no, you shouldn't "play it cool" with a girl. Girls don't like that, trust me.) We were hanging out on our dorm building's large stone balcony (Yes, we lived in a fancy dorm--in an old mansion actually--and no, your college digs aren't necessarily going to be as luxe.) and talking about random things. Daddy was talking about me meeting his parents and said, "They're going to love you just like I do." And then Daddy blushed when he realized what he'd revealed. 

I remember feeling surprised and happy. And I felt those same things today when you walked over to me while I was sitting on the couch, laid your head in my lap, looked up and smiled at me and said that you love me, too.

Well, you technically said, "Ayoo." But I know what you meant :) 

Love,

Mom

So Sorry

Dear Connor,

Earlier today, you were insisting that I pick you up but I was trying to get your lunch ready so I told you I couldn't hold you. This made you angry so you started crying, screaming and throwing yourself on the floor. (You are a bit of a drama queen.) I yelled at you to stop throwing a tantrum and you kept crying but said in your sad little voice, "Sorreeeee." I asked you, "Why are you sorry?" and you replied--while still sobbing--"I don't knoooooow." Typical male response!

Love,

Mom

Another Visit to the ER

Dear Connor,

Back in March, I wrote you that letter about our trip to the emergency room. I wrote that I never wanted to go back to the emergency room with you ever again. But the emergency room was exactly where we were this past Saturday. While we were visiting Uncle Ray, Aunt Sylvia and their new baby daughter (with whom you were completely smitten, by the way!), you thought it would be fun to jump on their couch and then hurl your whole body backward. You thought you were just going to flop back onto the fluffy couch cushions but you ended up hitting your head on the edge of the air conditioning vent. You immediately started crying so I pulled you into my lap to comfort you and you gradually stopped crying. You even started playing around again. But then Daddy noticed the bump on the back of your head and when he parted your hair to inspect it, we both saw something that made our hearts stop: blood.

You bump your head all the time. All the time. But you'd never bumped it so badly that you started bleeding. Daddy and Uncle Ray carefully cleaned your wound and said it didn't seem serious but I was freaking out because:

a) there was blood
b) I tend to freak out around blood
c) I'm your mom and will freak out every time you get hurt, blood or no blood

So Daddy and I rushed you to the emergency room where a doctor examined you right away and said exactly what Daddy and Uncle Ray had said: Your wound wasn't serious. Even though there was blood, there wasn't a laceration and you didn't need stitches. The doctor just cleaned off the rest of the blood, applied some antibiotic cream and sent us on our way. It was all over faster than I could ask, "Are you sure he doesn't need an X-ray?"

So . . . whew! You were actually pretty oblivious to your injury the whole night, so I guess it really wasn't that bad. You had cried for about a minute after you first hit your head but after that, you were laughing, running and goofing off like your usual self the rest of the evening. However, I was--and still am--pretty shaken, which was not helped by the fact that you hurt your head again yesterday. Daddy was sitting at the dining table and you were running toward him when you tripped, fell and hit your head on the corner of a dining table chair leg. There was thankfully no blood this time but you do have a big red scar on your forehead now. 

And I'm going online to order you a helmet right this second.

Love,
Mom

Online Love

Dear Connor,

You were playing with my phone today and managed to log onto the dating website Match.com. You already have several girlfriends but that is apparently not enough, you little player!

Love,

Mom

Potty Mouth

Dear Connor,

You learned how to say the word "short" today! And as with the words car, truck and frog, your pronunciation of your newest word is not G-rated. 

Me: Connor, are you tall or short?

You: <expletive that is a four-letter word for poop>

Yeah, we better work on that one, too.

Love,

Mom

Fay Da Fan

Dear Connor,

We often go to a Chinese bakery named Fay Da near our house and you love the steamed buns there. And I mean LOVE. As soon as we step foot inside the bakery, you start shouting at the top of your lungs, "Bao bao! Bao bao! Bao baaaaaaaooooooo!" Um, can we use our inside voice please? You scream for the buns as if I haven't fed you in days and don't stop until you have the pillowy white bread in your chubby little hands. I always have to rush to the counter and order the buns as fast as I can while ignoring the stares from EVERYONE in the store. And when we're home, you start yelling, "Bao bao!!!" even if you just see Fay Da's signature yellow plastic bag.

PoiPoi said I should teach you how to say "Fay Da" because then the bakery could hire you to stand outside and advertise for them by shouting, "Fay Da bao bao! Fay Da bao bao!"

Love,
Mom

Cookie Catastrophe

Dear Connor,

You asked me for a cookie.
I gave you a cookie.
You started whining for a second cookie before you'd even taken a bite out of the cookie I already gave you.
I told you to eat the cookie you had first.
You cried.
I explained to you that you already had a cookie in your hand and that you had to eat that one before I'd give you another one.
You cried harder.
And harder.
My patience wearing thin, I yelled at you to stop crying or I would not give you anymore cookies ever.
You stopped crying but whimpered while you ate your cookie.
You finished your cookie and started whining for another one.
I handed you a second cookie.
You shook your head, started crying and wouldn't take the cookie because you apparently didn't want it anymore.

Oh. My. GOD.

Love,
Mom

Bad Words

Dear Connor,

When you first learned how to say the words "car" and "truck," sometimes you combined them into one word and said what sounded like "cock." We'd be walking down the street and you'd point at vehicles and shout, "Cock!" Oh my. Thankfully, you don't do that anymore. But now you say the word "frog" and it sounds as if you're saying a very different, very bad four-letter word that also begins with f. We better work on that.

Love,
Mom

22 Months

Dear Connor,

You are 22 months old today! I can't believe you are almost 2 years old. Here is an update on the things you've been doing and learning recently:

-You continue to learn new words every day. The latest ones are sun, moon, rocks, bobo (rainbow), stroller, slippers, cup, sad, itchy, shark, frog, puppy, mouse, cycle (motorcycle), fan, chair, snack, cheese, cereal, sneeze, smee mee (excuse me), all done, all clean, jump, airplane, fay gay (Chinese for airplane), voom (vacuum), mouth, hands, hair, elbow, tummy, burp, straw, yummy, yucky, stairs, drum, sky, yay, hooray, home, soup, shiny, funny, bunny, mango and gai gai (Chinese for chicken).

-You can say, "It's so cool!" which is, well, so cool!

-You've learned the color blue--and only blue. Whenever I ask you what color something is, you always reply, "Blue." Aunt Yuan said her sons also said everything was blue at first. Is this a boy thing?

-You know the word oi neow (Chinese for peeing) and say, "Poo poo!" after you poop. If you could learn to tell me these things before you pee or poop, we could master potty training in no time!

-You can kind of ask the questions, "What should we do?" and "Where did it go?" You hold your hands up in the air and ask, "Do?" and "Go?"

-One of the newest phrases you've picked up is "how about." When I ask you which snack you want to eat or which book you want to read, you scan the pantry/bookshelf and say, "How about . . ." before picking something out. You sound like such an adult!

-You can say your name but when I ask you what it is, you still say, "Me!"

-You can identify and say all of the names of the shapes on your shape puzzle and put all of the pieces in the correct spots. When you see certain shapes in our house or when we're out, you often point them out and call them out by name.

-You can count from 0 to 12.

-You love it when we play our squeeze game. You sit behind me on the couch and wrap your arms around me, I lean back onto you and we both shout, "Squeeze!"

-When I hold my hand out to you and say, "Shake!" you shake my hand. 

-You can blow bubbles with bubble wands.

-You can also blow out candles on a cake and even try to blow out the candles when you see a picture of a birthday cake in one of your books. 

-You love to read and can spend an hour in your room flipping through your books. I have always been a big reader--and was the type of kid who would read with my nightlight long after I was supposed to be asleep--so I am especially proud of you for this!

-You've been into cars, trucks and trains for awhile and have recently become obsessed with Thomas the Tank Engine. You have a few Thomas books and I made the mistake of letting you watch an episode of "Thomas & Friends" on TV once. Now you constantly point to the TV and say, "Thomas! Thomas!"

-You've suddenly become very shy when you meet new people or when we go to new places. Last week, we had brunch at a restaurant for my birthday and you ran up to the front door of the restaurant but became scared when I opened the door and you saw all of the people inside the lobby. I had to carry you into the party room where my friends were waiting and when you saw all of them, you clung to me and buried your face in my chest. You do this all of the time now but fortunately, you always warm up after about 10 minutes and start running around and chatting with people like your usual friendly, outgoing self.

-Whenever you want to be tickled, you come up to me with a big grin on your face, wiggle your two pointer fingers in the air and say, "Ticka ticka ticka!" It is too cute!

Love,

Mom

Coming Out

Dear Connor,

When you get older, I hope a news anchor's sexual orientation is no longer "news."

Love,
Mom