Month 11

Dear Desi,

Month 11 already? Where did the time fly? I guess the past month crept up on me unawares since I've been obsessing over your party, driving myself nuts finding a venue. You're sharing your party with Daddy and Tita Michelle. I hope you don't mind. Don't worry it's still going to be a children's party, with games and balloons, only Daddy and Tita Che have to blow out their candles as well as yours. You haven't quite learned how to do that yet.



But oh the many many other things you do know how to do. It's amazing how half the things you know you taught yourself. Because, how could I even hope to teach you how to blow a whistle? Actually, it's broken toy recorder. I guess you saw Ate Lia playing it, and decided you wanted to play it too. At first you would put it in your mouth and hum into it, noticing perhaps that when you hum, a whistling sound comes out along with your voice. You would even stuff it in my mouth to see how I do it, and I obligingly ignore the wetness and blow into it for you because it always makes you smile. A couple of days later, you're not humming into it anymore you're actually blowing the whistle, making a very loud piercing sound. Good thing we only have one of those in this room. I don't even want to imagine the cacophony of you and Ate with a whistle each.



Speaking of broken, did I ever tell you about Daddy's latest nickname for you? He has dubbed you Desi the Darling. You should thank me for that because what he really wants to call you is Desi the Destroyer. What after the broken Minnie Mouse lighting wand, and Barbie stethoscope with only one earpiece left, Daddy seems to think your hands can cause the house to fall apart. Once you pulled on Lola Cora's emerald necklace and sent pearls rolling all over the kitchen and living room. I keep trying to tell Daddy, you're not a destroyer, you're a darling! You see, he hasn't seen the destructive power of twin boys. His only basis of comparison is your Ate, who is very smart but is just not as curious about how much chewing a celphone will take, or what she could step on to climb out of her crib. You, my child, are really my child, because you attempt these things. But I insisted that he do NOT call you a destroyer, because you don't destroy everything. In fact, you can be very gentle with things and toys, just looking, and inspecting, and yes, the inevitable tasting, but you respond to No quite well and will stop fiddling with something once I say No. Given that I see what you're doing and is therefore able to tell you No.

So when Daddy says, "Careful, Desi might Darling the remote control," Or, "Did Desi Darling this CD case?" You know what he means. He means to annoy your Mommy.



Since you mastered signing for milk last month, you've picked up quick and added a whole host of signs to your repertoire. You sign "change-change" for when you're wet, "up-up" for when you want to go upstairs, and "ligo" for when you're about to take a bath. In one restaurant, I showed you the fish swimming in the aquarium, and you copied me when I signed "fish," and while watching one of Ate's bedtime videos, you signed "monkey." But you also came up with a sign you taught yourself. One morning, I come down to see you eating breakfast, and I said, "Hello!" and you put your hand to your ear as if you were talking on the phone. Hello! No one taught you that sign but you do it every time someone says hello to you. It's the cutest thing in the world. Some times you even say "Oooow!" with your hand to you ear. How about that? Such a clever clever baby! You even know all the actions to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I know you do because once I sang it to you and you were watching your own reflection on the TV and you did every single gesture with me. When there are other people around you only do half the actions and then the clapping at the end. But I know you know them all. Don't worry babe. I won't tell anyone. That will be our own little secret.



You, my dear, are a child after my own... genes. Because you like to climb. You don't succeed very often, but you do try. And that makes me proud, that the Lapid monkey genes have gone to the next generation. You try to climb out of your crib, try to climb up the shelves, once you climbed up my shoulders and was able to climb up on to the bed. Actually, lately your favorite thing to do is when we're playing in Mommy's bed, you would scoot over to the very edge, dangle your feet over the side and sort of inch your way forward until I hold on to you and you get me to lower you gently on to the ground. You just love the floor because it gives you access to DVDs, calling cards, tool boxes and other cool stuff. Sometimes I'm tempted to just let you sit at the edge of the bed and see if you'll still push off if I'm not holding on to you. But I can't bear to risk it because if you really got the monkey genes, you will definitely push off the bed. Or even jump. Because you think you can fly.

Why am I happy about your being a monkey again?



My favorite thing about you growing up is now you and your sister can play together. You love chasing each other in the garage, or tackling each other on the bed. Actually, Desi, you do most of the chasing and tackling. Ate Lia loves when you go after her, it always makes her laugh. She hugs you and kisses you and never wants to go anywhere without you. She even introduces you to random children in the supermarket saying, "This is my baby, Desi." And at the end of the day, when I ask her what she did, she always says, "Play with Desi!" You, on the other hand, love to imitate your Ate. You laugh when she laughs, yell when she yells, you even copy her when she's singing. And when no one else can get you to do Beautiful Eyes, the sole guarantee that you will do it is if Ate Lia is the one that says to you, Beautiful Eyes.  I am so blessed and thankful to have two daughters who love each other and play together. I only hope you grow up to be each other's best friend. This probably means you'll be covering for each other against me and your Dad, but that's ok. That's what sisters do and I wouldn't have it any other way.



Desi, you are so special and so lovely. You delight me every day with your dimply smile, your sweet out-of-nowhere hugs, your clever signing, your infinitely expressive eyes. You'll be one year old in just 28 days, it's hard to believe you've only been in my life for that long. It feels like I've been loving you all my life. You make being you Mommy the most fulfilling job I ever had.


I love you,
Mommy