Dear Kangaroo, Month 25

Dear Sweet Sasha,

You were 25 months old this week.

I sifted through a mound of laundry, picking out your smocked blue dress with cherries on it. As I folded, tears came to my eyes. You wore it yesterday and it came just to the bottom of your tush - time to pass yet another size-2T down to your baby sister.

Last week, you stood beside Nana and Papa's fooseball table and I noticed your pony tail stood taller than the pole grips. I used to worry that you'd bang your head; instead you navigate deftly around them. No need for my watchful eye.

This morning, I asked you what you wanted to do today - you could do anything at all - and you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment, and said, "Play with Mama...and Mia."

"And do you want to do anything special?"

"Yes. Do an amimal puzzle."

I love how decisive you are, and how simple yet wonderful your desires.

You understand concepts I don't expect. Like I might say, "If you go in the playroom, I'll go with you." And you'll say, "We'll both go. Together." How do you already know these things?

You are getting funnier and appreciating humor more. You think it is hysterical if I sing the "silly animal song," saying I once met a duck who said Meow or an mouse who was as big as a tree. You giggle and say, "No-oh-oh, Mama." If I replace a word in a familiar book, you laugh hysterically and scream the right word out.

Your refrain is still, "Mommy do it," whenever you don't know the answer or feel reluctant to obey. But you do many more things for yourself, and you're especially opinionated. Even if you want me to do something, it had to be your idea in the first place.

Out of the blue, you can sing your ABC's. I never taught them to you, although I do occasionally sing them on a whim. But today, as a stalling technique I asked you to sing your ABC's, promising that when you were done I'd come into the playroom. Well, you were nearly perfect - I was so impressed. You got a bit tripped up on the Q, but otherwise did well.

Among other accomplishments, you said your first curse word yesterday. I checked the answering messages as we returned home from a difficult trip to a friend's house and realized I had missed an appointment.

"Shit," I said softly.

"Shit," you said. I stifled a giggle, kicking myself inside.

"Oops, that was a bad word," I said, avoiding your eyes. "Mommy made a mistake. I won't say that anymore. Now...a better word is 'sit.' Should we go SIT on the couch and watch Elmo?"

It was the best I could do.

And, with that, I'll close your final monthly letter. You don't need these any more because you have you can say the ABC's and curse and you have your own Web site.

You asked for one, and so I made you one. It is super cute and it's name is Books and Ducks and Giraffes. It has your favorite links (to Elmo's World, etc.) and pictures of your favorite things. I will still write you notes there, and things will be a bit more organic. If anyone wants access, the address is private, so please let me know.

I love you, my sweet Sasha. High as the sky and green as the grass. I hope I will always write to you, and I hope one day soon you'll write back.

Forever,

Mama