Have I written about your obsession with umbrellas yet? We have a cabinet in the dining room, a built in meant to hold dishes, and we have ceded the lower portion of it to you for your entertainment during mealtimes. In this cabinet we keep a few board books, a stuffed wooly mammoth that I got on a trip to Spain like six years ago, some bells, several rolled up placemats, and, crucially, like six different folding umbrellas.
You love umbrellas.
I think you love how they change shape, and you love the different bright colors. You love to hide underneath them, or behind them, or sit in them like they're a boat, or make a sort of barricade out of three or four of them. You like to open the blue one, and then the plaid one, and then the one with smiley faces that we don't know where it came from, and have me hold one and your dad hold another while you hide under a third. Your favorite item to cuddle while riding in the car is the hot pink one with the duck-head shaped handle. You have gnawed off some of the paint off the duck bill, which is probably not great for you, but hopefully it won't have any lasting effects. I have seen you drift off to sleep in your car seat, one baby hand resting lovingly on the duck umbrella.
You still aren't in your language explosion yet, but I feel like it must be coming any day now.
Right now you are at school, and I am missing you.
And that is where things stand, one month before you turn one and a half.
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