Month 14

Dear Lia,

14 months! 14 months last Monday. Where did all the time go? And I know I had two months to prepare a letter this time, and it's still late, because it was only when I was thinking about what to say when I realized how hard it is to fit 2 months of insanely rapid development into one letter that isn't too long that it will bore all of Mommy's readers to tears.



Where do I begin?

Perhaps the most fascinating thing about you now is all the new words. When you turned 13 months, I counted how many words you can say (not counting the words you sign, and the words you obviously know the meaning of but don't say) and came up with 20. Now, a month later, and it seems closer to 30. Maybe even 40. You don't sign for water anymore, you say "Mama!" I sort of wanted you to go straight from signing to saying Water, but old traditions die hard and your Lola taught you to say Mamam, so Mamam it is, just like Mommy used to say when she was a baby. You also don't sign for milk anymore, instead you say "Bido!" Of course you mean Nido. But you are so passionate and insistent every time you see the kitchen cabinet open and catch a glimpse of that yellow can, we are assailed by your shouts. Bido! Bido! Bido! Now we all tend to call it Bido too.

You say Bye! and Hi! And Meow! When you see a cat in your books or on TV. It's so cute when you read your alphabet book, and you say Do! (for dog) and Meow! (for cat) And you call any animal on four legs Do. Goats, sheep, horses, lions, elephants, they're all Do. Except Cats. And mice. They are Meow. You have names for people in your life as well. You say "Mommy," and "Daddy" (actually, when you say it it's more like Duddy). "Dada" for Aida, the cook. "Abiya" for the driver Abrilla, Nnnnang for Ninang Michelle. At your last doctor's appointment you learned to say "Dodo" for Tito Jojo, your doctor. Now everyone's in a flurry to teach you their names. Some you learned fast, like Nana, Nanu, Ayo, Ia and Ino. But some others you will probably learn a little later on. Like Bles. And Marifel.



You have also figured out how to say your favorite food. You say Gay for grapes. And really not a meal goes by that you don't consume at least 5. You LOVE grapes, you pop them in your mouth like peanuts. Sometimes without chewing as if it will run out. And you would have your little chubby cheeks full of grapes, it's too cute for words. Which is why we always only show them to you two at a time. And you Lola Cora is especially vigilant that we never run out of grapes, because that happened once before and every time the refrigerator opens you would run and sort of expect something, and when there were no grapes to be had, you'd be sorely disappointed. So now it's a regular on our shopping lists. And not just any ordinary grapes. They have to be seedless. And lately, they have to be peeled. Lola Cora has always been particular about peeling grapes before giving them to you to make sure you don't choke on them. But sometimes we would just give you unpeeled ones behind her back. Especially when you're particularly impatient. You didn't care, you ate it anyway. But yesterday, we gave you a unpeeled grape and you picked it up, stared at it and tried to peel it yourself. Talk about your princessness! Fine. Now Yaya peels all your grapes for you. Anyway you tend to play with them like marbles if they still have skin.



There are also certain concepts you know, like No. When we say No, you usually stop what you're doing. When you see something you know you're not supposed to touch, you come up to it and wag your finger at it and say No! No! You know what Ligpit means. When we say ligpit, you put your toys inside the elephant toy bin. It is one of my most favoritest things that you do. But nothing beats kiss. We say kiss your bear, you kiss your teddy bear. Kiss your baby, you kiss you little doll. And when I say, kiss mommy, you come up to me and plant me a wet one. With sounds pa. Mwa! It is the most adorable thing. Especially when you do it without prodding. When out of the blue you just feel like kissing me. I feel like the most blessed Mommy in the world.

You've also turned out to be brave, active and independent. But within limits. Like, you learned to climb the stairs. But never when no one is watching. When you want to get off our bed, which is almost as tall as you, you sort of shimmy backwards toward the edge. And when your daddy is there, he catches you and you totally let go, knowing he will let you down on the floor gently. But sometimes, you would shimmy and we would not come over and catch you, and sort of stop in mid-shimmy and climb back on to the bed because you don't want to risk doing it on your own. Of course, you probably can do it on your own by now. You barely need any assistance. But we're counting on you to be a little scared just for a little while yet until you're a little taller and we're all sure getting off the bed won't be a problem.



Last Sunday in St. Ignatius, we were praying and you were walking around with a rosary in your mouth when you suddenly decided to spin around. And you've spun around before but we usually tell you to stop. But this time, because we were in the middle of the fourth glorious mystery, no one told you to stop and you just kept spinning and spinning until you stopped. And then tried to walk, but started going sideways and was unable to stop until Tito Migo caught you. You tried to go back, and you started walking sideways the other way, and everyone was giggling through their Hail Marys so I had to take you on my lap and hold you until you stopped being dizzy. But the funniest thing about it was the expression of intense concentration on your face as you spun, and the calm serious look when you were teetering to the side. It was as if to show the world, "I meant to do that. I'm so cool." You are cool, baby. The coolest baby in the whole world.

I was especially proud when last Sunday it was time to go home, you kissed every single one of your lolos and lolas. We could tell you were raring to leave. But one kiss led to another, and soon everyone demanded one. And you patiently obliged. You almost didn't kiss Nanu but in the end you did. And everyone was impressed and happy.



I love you so much, Lia. I missed you so much when we went away on vacation. And soon I might be away for you more often, no more morning cartoons together, and rolling around in bed every afternoon. But I want you to know that even if your Daddy and I aren't around all the time, you are the most important person in the world to us. And you are always in our hearts, and we are always here for you.

I love you,
Mommy