Here is the list of words you do know and use with varying regularity:
In addition to the aforementioned habit of throwing your food on the floor, you also enjoy sticking your fingers down your throat to gag yourself - over and over and over. I have no idea why, maybe you're practicing to be bulimic. You do this so often that your dad and I both pretty much tune out the sound, and usually don't even react when we hear a choking sound from you. This, as I have explained to you countless times, has the ability to bite you in the ass if you don't cut it out. Between this and the food-flinging, two very charming behaviours, family dinners are not that pleasant. Your dad and I are both really looking forward to the day when we can teach you some manners.
This month, you discovered my drawer full of food storage containers. This has caused you a lot of delight, as cheap tupperware knock-offs are apparently far more entertaining than a living room full of actual Fisher Price. (I actually could have predicted that, but you can't tell grandparents anything.) You are in this drawer every single day, taking things out and strewing them about the floor. I don't mind so much, because despite my best intentions I am not very good at keeping that drawer organized, and now I can blame the chaos on you instead of admitting that sometimes I'm too lazy to rearrange all the small containers so I can fit the big one in underneath. There are some benefits to parenting, you know.
You seem to really enjoy music these days, and will sometimes dance and groove to the beat. Your favourite song seems to be "Head and Shoulders" and you have started to thump yourself on the chest with great enthusiasm whenever you hear a song that slightly resembles it. We think this is your attempt to do the actions. At Christmas time, your Gramma Karen and Grandpa Keith bought you a stacker toy that plays rock and roll music, and for the past five months you have had an intense fear and also an intense fascination with this toy. You would pull it off the shelf, bring it to your dad or me and place it about a foot away, then sit down in our lap and wait for us to press the button. The music startled you so much that you didn't want to press it yourself, but I guess you wanted to face your fear, because you wanted to do this over and over again. It seems you have now conquered your fear, and we're all very impressed. It's not every day you meet a toddler with an interest in self-improvement.
I should mention that you are kind of a crazy kid (which is clearly not our fault, it's totally normal to teach your kids the Jaws theme). By that I mean that we sort of suspect you might be an adrenaline junkie later in life. The best way to get you to giggle uncontrollably in fits of pure joy is to grab you by the ankles and swing you around upside down. Your dad does this at least a couple of times a week, and I wouldn't even be able to watch if it weren't for the incredible joy on your face when he does it. I'm pretty sure that next year when you catch on to what all the playground equipment is for, it's going to blow your tiny mind. And just wait till you're six and I take you to an amusement park!
A mystery has been solved this month. Ever since you were about five months old, you have occasionally, intentionally bonked your face into the floor in our kitchen or living room. We always thought this was pretty weird, especially when you were teething and you would sometimes actually hurt your gums by doing this. A couple of weeks ago, I suddenly had a flash of insight: you are kissing the baby in the reflection of the laminate flooring. Aha! And also, aww! You do make some sense after all.
To contrast with that adorable story, let me tell you about the tantrums. At least once a day, you allow us a glimpse into our future, the future where you are two years old and fully vocal and ready to voice your displeasure at any opportunity. Any time we take away something you want to play with, or we don't feed you as quickly as you'd like, you Lose Your Mind. Complete with throwing your head back to wail your complaints to the ceiling. I hasten to state that I am not complaining about this, as my parents would confirm that I Had It Coming. But it bears mention in your newsletter.
Overall, you've become much less a baby and much more a little girl, which has been incredible to watch. And we know the best is still to come.