Dear Zoë,

A couple of weeks ago, you turned 11-months-old.  I just want to let you know to get used to me running behind schedule.  Your mother is the master at believing she can do everything.  I can’t, but I keep trying.  I promise the important things will get done on time–you know meals, dr’s appt.s.  I can’t say the same for these letters which often fall to the bottom of the list.  That fact is by no means a reflection of the love I hold for you.  Because you are the moon to Noah’s sun.  Our world wouldn’t function without either of you. 

During this past month, you have come so close to walking and have perfected speed crawling.  You are a lighting bolt and I have to watch you like a hawk.  This is the opposite of your brother.  When he was your age, he was walking (no competition here) but he wasn’t the adventurer you are.  You climb on everything–whether it is stable or not.  (Just now you fell off of non-stationary toy and got back up to try it again).  You are pushing the limits and boundaries and smile while doing it.  You love the dog water and every time I stop you by saying your name you look up at me and smile.  And in that smiling face, I see the teenage girl who is going to give me that look when I catch you sneaking out or in–if you follow in  your mom’s footsteps it will be both.   I don’t think I am looking forward to those teenage years.   

Let me apologize now for already warping your mind with television. You are enthralled with Yo Gabba Gabba and sometimes that is the only thing that will calm you down if you are super crabby.  You laugh and giggle and clap.  It is really cute.  I know what all the studies say about TV actually making young children stupid.  If that is the case, I am very sorry because we are in no way rich enough to buy your way into college.  Community college isn’t too bad.  They have some great programs. 

I have to talk about his love affair you have with your daddy.  You get this goofy smile on your face whenever he walks into the room.  No matter how intensely you were crying and screaming before he was there…he shows up and you are all sunshine and rainbows.  It’s  a little annoying.  I am slightly vindicated by the fact that you say “mamma” an never utter the “d” word (dada).  Your brother was almost 19 months before he said mamma.  So in terms of that accomplishment–you are so totally my favorite.  But it all evens out, becasue you dislike sleeping and your brother is the champion napper–so he is my favorite when it comes to sleep. 

Sleep.  Why don’t you need any?   I know you are resistant to napping now, because you are so interested in all the things you can do now that you can stand and cruise and eat all the scraps of paper off the floor and any other stray food your brother drops. I spend half of my day fishing paper that comes out of no where out of your mouth and the other half doing sacfices to the sleep gods in the hopes of you napping when your brother does or at all for that matter. 

You got to see the Ocean for the first time this month and you loved it as much as you like all water.  You spend a good part of every day standing next to the bathtub trying to will yourself in.  You were completely unphased by the sand and the fact that your brother like to cover you in it.  You handled the world traveling well, other than the sleep issues.  But as you can see that isn’t too surprising.  You are a pistol, little Miss Zoë and will continue to challenge us in ways that are totally new and exciting and frustrating.  I am so happy to have you my life and as part or our family.  You fit in seamlessly. 

Keep pushing the limits.

Love you,

Mommy