Dear Girls,
Have I ever told you that you give the best hugs? Both of you. Well, to be honest... these days not so much Hazel because she would prefer to cuddle up as small as she can (which is no small feat given her genetics) in my lap and have me hug her.
But Millie... oh my, she lurves giving hugs. Complete with the pat on the back as if to say, "Yes, yes I know... it will be alright. My hug will fix it. Kthanxbai!" before running off to lick the garbage can.
The best is when Millie is chasing Hazel throughout the house and Hazel is laughing uncontrollably - because if there's one thing that both of my girls love, it's to be chased - when suddenly I realize that Millie's yelling isn't all fun and games... it's concern. Concern bordering on outright tragedy. Because she just wants to hug her sissy... and her sissy keeps running away from her like she's got a booger hanging out of her nose. Which she does... but that's beside the point.
Every single parent on earth will agree that watching two little kids hug out of love or friendship is the single greatest part about parenting. Second place goes to forcing kiddos to hug when they're fighting... as punishment. Not nearly as cute, but makes up for a lot of nonsense you endure as a parent.... with the added benefit of giving your kids something to talk about in therapy 20 years from now.
But, yes... unless you're made of stone, watching kids hug is natures way of patting a mom or dad on the back and saying: "See? All those poopy diapers and sleepless nights? TOTALLY WORTH IT, HUH?" It's even better when the two munchkins doing the hugging are sisters. Spontaneously. No nudging from Mommy to do it.
Unless, of course, one of them is crying because she wants a hug and Mommy has to get the other one to stop before it can occur. Which is what we call Tuesday in our house. And, after the hug, the two of you are again on your way... laughter lighting up each room you race into. Were it not 20 degrees outside right now, flowers would bloom and birds would stop what they were doing to listen to that beautiful sound... before singing a song in a desperate bid to match its loveliness.
As it is, I just sit here with my coffee. Feeling happy. Feeling blessed. And hoping that the next hug... is mine.
Love,
Mama
Showing posts with label Letter To Tweet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Letter To Tweet. Show all posts
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Someone Just Got A Technical
Dear Hazel,
I told your Daddy last night that I needed to get to work on your 27 month update.
And he looked at me as though I'd lost whatever remaining marbles I still had after giving birth twice in 16 months and politely commented that maybe we were making this too special. In that special way of his.
So, fine... we won't call it your 27-Month Update. Because, yes... I get it. LAME. But there's been a lot going on with you lately and I think you should know about it.
For starters... Holy crap, Batman! Does this kid ever shut up??? (Yes, I know we don't say "shut up" around here, but since you can't quite read yet, I feel like I still have some freedom with my words.) You are SUCH a talker. And you're getting so good at putting words together to actually tell us what you want. Usually, that phrase is something like: "I want applecakes, too." Which comes out sounding like: "Eyyyye ont appecakessss, tuuuuu." But my favorite is when you add the "huh?" or "okay?" after such statements. So we end up hearing things like: "Eyyye ont appecakesss, tuuuu, huh?" Even better, you say it over and over until we acknowledge that yes, we heard you. And yes... good job on being polite. And asking a question with a statement. And blowing up the rules of the English language. Dude... as long as you're not whining, I'M COOL WITH IT.
Secondly, I'm not sure how we're going to get your little sister to start walking if you insist on crawling around with her on the floor everywhere. The two of you are constantly racing up and down the hallway on your hands and knees laughing it up. That is, until sissy is able to get a hold of your hair and pull... then all bets are off and Mommy is consoling you. I'm sure you don't understand why you get in trouble so much when Millie's also misbehaving. You don't quite get that Millie's a bit too young for timeouts. And you... well, you're the Timeout Queen these days. I used to feel like a bad Mommy for putting in you in timeout for throwing a fit, but honestly... having you scream in your room is SO MUCH MORE PREFERABLE than you screaming in the middle of the kitchen. And it struck me the other day that this is totally what you were like as a baby. You just needed to scream. It didn't matter where you were or if we were there to listen to it. And once you exorcise those demons, you seem to be just fine. The other day, though, I had to put you in a timeout in the kitchen because you had taken a berry from your plate when you were specifically told that if you were going to have a berry, you needed to sit in your chair and eat dinner. See.... you've got this thing with sitting at a table and eating. In that you don't want to actually sit and eat. You'd rather run around while shoving food in your mouth. And that means that when we are sitting down to eat, you end up turning into a contortionist in your chair. Feet on the table, or legs behind your ear... you are all over the place. You usually end up sitting sideways on your little chair... and thenget really mad freak out when some of the food from your fork has dropped onto your leg... because, did I also forget to mention that you insist on being 2 feet away from the table whilst eating? Yep. Horror of horrors when a piece of scrambled egg falls on your leg. END OF DAYS. Lots of end of days these days. From food alone.
So, dinner times have been fun lately. But, yes... you were naughty and stole a berry from your dinner plate and had to go into timeout. But, and this was amazing to me, you knew it was wrong and didn't seem to be surprised you ended up in a timeout. And you were sufficiently somber about it. This... this I call PROGRESS.
Also new the last few months? Shyness. You... my little "Most Likely To Be Kidnapped Cuz She's So Darn Friendly".... now all of the sudden you see new people, or even people that you know but haven't seen for a while and you cling to my leg and hide your face. Of course, this only lasts for a little bit before The Real Hazel shows up and it's go-time.
Your meltdowns have continued... as is the rite of passage for most 2-year-olds. Our response to it has improved dramatically, though. Which means, you'll likely see your 3rd birthday. And if we can survive the meltdown of all meltdowns that occurred last week at The Treehouse Museum, I'd say your Daddy and I can pretty much do anything.
You still don't let Mommy do much with your hair. Which, quite frankly, is kind of okay with me. Because Mommy still has to deal with doing HER hair. Add your hair into the mix and the morning is shot. I still can't believe we rolled two girls... two girls who will depend on me to help with their hair for a good portion of the time they live with me. WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO? But your hair... man, you've got some curls. And I kind of think that helps me out because with the curls, it's at least semi-styled by default.
Poor Millie with her straight hair. So. Screwed.
We love you so much, Hazel. And even though you test our patience and our wills to live at times, the good far outweighs the bad and I cannot imagine our lives without you.
Love,
Mama
I told your Daddy last night that I needed to get to work on your 27 month update.
And he looked at me as though I'd lost whatever remaining marbles I still had after giving birth twice in 16 months and politely commented that maybe we were making this too special. In that special way of his.
"27 months? Really, babe??"
So, fine... we won't call it your 27-Month Update. Because, yes... I get it. LAME. But there's been a lot going on with you lately and I think you should know about it.
For starters... Holy crap, Batman! Does this kid ever shut up??? (Yes, I know we don't say "shut up" around here, but since you can't quite read yet, I feel like I still have some freedom with my words.) You are SUCH a talker. And you're getting so good at putting words together to actually tell us what you want. Usually, that phrase is something like: "I want applecakes, too." Which comes out sounding like: "Eyyyye ont appecakessss, tuuuuu." But my favorite is when you add the "huh?" or "okay?" after such statements. So we end up hearing things like: "Eyyye ont appecakesss, tuuuu, huh?" Even better, you say it over and over until we acknowledge that yes, we heard you. And yes... good job on being polite. And asking a question with a statement. And blowing up the rules of the English language. Dude... as long as you're not whining, I'M COOL WITH IT.
Secondly, I'm not sure how we're going to get your little sister to start walking if you insist on crawling around with her on the floor everywhere. The two of you are constantly racing up and down the hallway on your hands and knees laughing it up. That is, until sissy is able to get a hold of your hair and pull... then all bets are off and Mommy is consoling you. I'm sure you don't understand why you get in trouble so much when Millie's also misbehaving. You don't quite get that Millie's a bit too young for timeouts. And you... well, you're the Timeout Queen these days. I used to feel like a bad Mommy for putting in you in timeout for throwing a fit, but honestly... having you scream in your room is SO MUCH MORE PREFERABLE than you screaming in the middle of the kitchen. And it struck me the other day that this is totally what you were like as a baby. You just needed to scream. It didn't matter where you were or if we were there to listen to it. And once you exorcise those demons, you seem to be just fine. The other day, though, I had to put you in a timeout in the kitchen because you had taken a berry from your plate when you were specifically told that if you were going to have a berry, you needed to sit in your chair and eat dinner. See.... you've got this thing with sitting at a table and eating. In that you don't want to actually sit and eat. You'd rather run around while shoving food in your mouth. And that means that when we are sitting down to eat, you end up turning into a contortionist in your chair. Feet on the table, or legs behind your ear... you are all over the place. You usually end up sitting sideways on your little chair... and then
So, dinner times have been fun lately. But, yes... you were naughty and stole a berry from your dinner plate and had to go into timeout. But, and this was amazing to me, you knew it was wrong and didn't seem to be surprised you ended up in a timeout. And you were sufficiently somber about it. This... this I call PROGRESS.
Also new the last few months? Shyness. You... my little "Most Likely To Be Kidnapped Cuz She's So Darn Friendly".... now all of the sudden you see new people, or even people that you know but haven't seen for a while and you cling to my leg and hide your face. Of course, this only lasts for a little bit before The Real Hazel shows up and it's go-time.
Your meltdowns have continued... as is the rite of passage for most 2-year-olds. Our response to it has improved dramatically, though. Which means, you'll likely see your 3rd birthday. And if we can survive the meltdown of all meltdowns that occurred last week at The Treehouse Museum, I'd say your Daddy and I can pretty much do anything.
You still don't let Mommy do much with your hair. Which, quite frankly, is kind of okay with me. Because Mommy still has to deal with doing HER hair. Add your hair into the mix and the morning is shot. I still can't believe we rolled two girls... two girls who will depend on me to help with their hair for a good portion of the time they live with me. WHAT HAVE I GOTTEN MYSELF INTO? But your hair... man, you've got some curls. And I kind of think that helps me out because with the curls, it's at least semi-styled by default.
Poor Millie with her straight hair. So. Screwed.
We love you so much, Hazel. And even though you test our patience and our wills to live at times, the good far outweighs the bad and I cannot imagine our lives without you.
Love,
Mama
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Hazel's Two-ish Update
Dear Hazel,
A couple of weeks ago, you turned 2. Holy crap. I have a two-year-old. How in the WORLD did THAT happen? How is it possible that 2 years ago, you came into this world. And blew it up? In a good way, of course. Even if at the time, we didn't quite realize it. Couldn't quite comprehend that this screaming bundle of arms, legs and LUNGS was going to turn into the fun, loving little girl who... yes, would continue to keep us on our toes. AT ALL TIMES.
You'll have to forgive this late blog. There's just something about writing your 2-year post that has got me a little... frazzled. Maybe a little down. Because time has just gone by soooo fast that there are days that I can't quite comprehend that I'm the mother of a toddler. That two years have gone by so quickly. That I am in charge of turning you into a productive member of society. And how in the world did anyone think that I should ever be in charge of something as significant as THAT?
Last month, you had an absolute blast. We had some cousin's visit from Phoenix and you absolutely adored them. The week they were in town was a week of firsts for you. Namely, the first time you fell down the stairs... and the first time you rode your train down the stairs. Two separate incidents, by the way. And then... when we did the unthinkable and took the stairs... away... well, that didn't go well. Especially since you've figured out how to unlatch the gate at the top of the stairs. So... even though we promised ourselves we wouldn't do it... Daddy and I have fallen back on parenting through FEAR... at least when it comes to the stairs.
Having cousins visit also meant a huge first for you... you got to stay up WAAAAYYY past your bedtime. My rule was that you could stay up and play... as long as you didn't throw a fit because you were tired. And I'll be damned... but it worked. You were super happy the whole time. Even when it was a 9 p.m. bedtime!!! You just love being around other kids. And that visit got me so pumped up for our trip to San Diego next year. You and the cousins are going to be running around everywhere!
You love being a big sister. Even though you still have a few moments of sibling rivalry... and out-and-out jealousy. You sure love to snuggle with your sissy. And when you get up in the morning, the first thing you want to do is see Millie. Or, Minny, in your world. You loves you some Minny. You love to kiss her. You love to hug her. You love to feed her. You just LOVE her. (Except for the times when you DON'T love her. Which, thankfully, are few and far between.)
When you turned 2, you moved up to the 2-3 year old class. Big news around here. Because I was able to finally get you out of the basement at daycare. See... I don't tell a lot of people this (so I should just blog it, right?) but I have a... thing... with basements. Your Daddy doesn't understand why I don't like to be downstairs in our basement. I just like to be upstairs where there is natural light. And when you were downstairs at daycare... while it was a wonderful environment with a wonderful teacher... you were still in a basement. Blah. My girl needs some LIGHT! So, we moved you upstairs.
It was really past time for you to move up, baby girl. For a couple months prior to turning 2, you had been struggling during nap time at school. We didn't know what was up with that. The teachers were at their wits end. They had tried EVERYTHING, but still couldn't get you to sleep for more than 45 minutes. Meanwhile, on the weekends, you were regularly sleeping 2-3 hours. We finally decided that you must be bored. You were one of the oldest in the classroom. And apparently, you had been totally bogarting the flashcard time and none of the other kids got to say anything. Not with you yelling out: "DUCK! CARROT! CAR! GREEN! FLUVIAL GEOMORPHOLOGY!" (someone's been listening to Daddy too much!)
Anyhoo... the first day of your new class, I was a little nervous. You're getting to that age where instead of being open and happy meeting new people, you can be a little more reserved. But... well, what the hell do I know? Cuz you walked into that room like you owned it. And the rest is history. You're now sleeping 2 hours per day and your teacher constantly gushes to me (btw... I really like your teacher) about how awesome it is having you in class, and how smart you are. WORDS MOMMY LIKES TO HEAR. The polar opposite of what I heard today. (PS... you and I are going to have a talk about playing King of the Mountain and KICKING our friends. Yep.)
The word "time out" has become familiar to you in the last month or so. We have to take a lot of time outs with you when you get worked up over something. It's nothing too bad... we just take you to your room or out of the situation you're in and we have a little discussion about what is appropriate. We have to finish by giving Mommy a kiss and a hug... and then usually an apology to either Mommy, Millie, Daddy or a friend that came to visit. Or... you know, the car seat that you decided was evil. But, it's working. For how long, we don't know. You're very... 2ish right now, let's just leave it at that.
We have started to push the idea of going potty in the toilet with you. We're not quite sure what we're doing here... I gotta be honest. And if we would just buck up and read a book on it, we'd be set. We've tried bribery... (lots of Halloween candy still waiting to be eaten), and we've tried exaggerating our excitement when you do tinkle in the toilet. But, overall... you're not too interested. And kid... I can't wait for you to be interested. Because you're getting to be old enough and big enough that... WOW. You really gotta start going potty in the toilet. My gag reflexes are not super sensitive... but you're able to bring me to the brink. And we'll leave it at that.
You're talking a lot right now. A. Lot. And in the last week, you're vocabulary has EXPLODED. You're able to follow directions. And you're able (for the most part) to say what you want or what you need. We have to watch what we say right now... because you repeat EVERYTHING. And yes... it's possible that you learned your first four-letter word from Mommy the other day. I'm THAT mom. Awesome.
You love to color. Well... scratch that. You love to watch Mommy color next to you. And if Mommy stops coloring or isn't interested in coloring, you hand me a crayon/marker/chalk and say: "Cudder? Cudder?" And while coloring isn't exactly my idea of fun these days and I would much rather you color on your own so I can clean the house or shave my legs, I keep remembering that these moments are fleeting. And not too long from now, you won't want me to cudder with you.
And, so... I cudder. I also make sand art and bake cookies with you. Whenever you get to "help" me do anything, you're down. And I will remind you of this when you turn 15. YES. I. WILL.
You are such a sweetheart, Hazel. You're hard... trust me, I earn Mommyhood every. single. day. But you're totally worth it. You are a little girl that knows what she wants. You're a little girl who knows EVERYTHING already. You love deeply. And you disagree passionately.
That last one... well, it's gonna serve you well. It's always served Mommy well.
Then again, Mommy's only ever been wrong about one thing. And that's when she stupidly pointed to a crocodile in a book and said: "Crocodile". Too which you pointed out that it actually was a frog.
NO. FROG.
I stand corrected.
Love,
Mama
A couple of weeks ago, you turned 2. Holy crap. I have a two-year-old. How in the WORLD did THAT happen? How is it possible that 2 years ago, you came into this world. And blew it up? In a good way, of course. Even if at the time, we didn't quite realize it. Couldn't quite comprehend that this screaming bundle of arms, legs and LUNGS was going to turn into the fun, loving little girl who... yes, would continue to keep us on our toes. AT ALL TIMES.
You'll have to forgive this late blog. There's just something about writing your 2-year post that has got me a little... frazzled. Maybe a little down. Because time has just gone by soooo fast that there are days that I can't quite comprehend that I'm the mother of a toddler. That two years have gone by so quickly. That I am in charge of turning you into a productive member of society. And how in the world did anyone think that I should ever be in charge of something as significant as THAT?
Having cousins visit also meant a huge first for you... you got to stay up WAAAAYYY past your bedtime. My rule was that you could stay up and play... as long as you didn't throw a fit because you were tired. And I'll be damned... but it worked. You were super happy the whole time. Even when it was a 9 p.m. bedtime!!! You just love being around other kids. And that visit got me so pumped up for our trip to San Diego next year. You and the cousins are going to be running around everywhere!
You love being a big sister. Even though you still have a few moments of sibling rivalry... and out-and-out jealousy. You sure love to snuggle with your sissy. And when you get up in the morning, the first thing you want to do is see Millie. Or, Minny, in your world. You loves you some Minny. You love to kiss her. You love to hug her. You love to feed her. You just LOVE her. (Except for the times when you DON'T love her. Which, thankfully, are few and far between.)
When you turned 2, you moved up to the 2-3 year old class. Big news around here. Because I was able to finally get you out of the basement at daycare. See... I don't tell a lot of people this (so I should just blog it, right?) but I have a... thing... with basements. Your Daddy doesn't understand why I don't like to be downstairs in our basement. I just like to be upstairs where there is natural light. And when you were downstairs at daycare... while it was a wonderful environment with a wonderful teacher... you were still in a basement. Blah. My girl needs some LIGHT! So, we moved you upstairs.
It was really past time for you to move up, baby girl. For a couple months prior to turning 2, you had been struggling during nap time at school. We didn't know what was up with that. The teachers were at their wits end. They had tried EVERYTHING, but still couldn't get you to sleep for more than 45 minutes. Meanwhile, on the weekends, you were regularly sleeping 2-3 hours. We finally decided that you must be bored. You were one of the oldest in the classroom. And apparently, you had been totally bogarting the flashcard time and none of the other kids got to say anything. Not with you yelling out: "DUCK! CARROT! CAR! GREEN! FLUVIAL GEOMORPHOLOGY!" (someone's been listening to Daddy too much!)
Anyhoo... the first day of your new class, I was a little nervous. You're getting to that age where instead of being open and happy meeting new people, you can be a little more reserved. But... well, what the hell do I know? Cuz you walked into that room like you owned it. And the rest is history. You're now sleeping 2 hours per day and your teacher constantly gushes to me (btw... I really like your teacher) about how awesome it is having you in class, and how smart you are. WORDS MOMMY LIKES TO HEAR. The polar opposite of what I heard today. (PS... you and I are going to have a talk about playing King of the Mountain and KICKING our friends. Yep.)
The word "time out" has become familiar to you in the last month or so. We have to take a lot of time outs with you when you get worked up over something. It's nothing too bad... we just take you to your room or out of the situation you're in and we have a little discussion about what is appropriate. We have to finish by giving Mommy a kiss and a hug... and then usually an apology to either Mommy, Millie, Daddy or a friend that came to visit. Or... you know, the car seat that you decided was evil. But, it's working. For how long, we don't know. You're very... 2ish right now, let's just leave it at that.
You're talking a lot right now. A. Lot. And in the last week, you're vocabulary has EXPLODED. You're able to follow directions. And you're able (for the most part) to say what you want or what you need. We have to watch what we say right now... because you repeat EVERYTHING. And yes... it's possible that you learned your first four-letter word from Mommy the other day. I'm THAT mom. Awesome.
You love to color. Well... scratch that. You love to watch Mommy color next to you. And if Mommy stops coloring or isn't interested in coloring, you hand me a crayon/marker/chalk and say: "Cudder? Cudder?" And while coloring isn't exactly my idea of fun these days and I would much rather you color on your own so I can clean the house or shave my legs, I keep remembering that these moments are fleeting. And not too long from now, you won't want me to cudder with you.
And, so... I cudder. I also make sand art and bake cookies with you. Whenever you get to "help" me do anything, you're down. And I will remind you of this when you turn 15. YES. I. WILL.
You are such a sweetheart, Hazel. You're hard... trust me, I earn Mommyhood every. single. day. But you're totally worth it. You are a little girl that knows what she wants. You're a little girl who knows EVERYTHING already. You love deeply. And you disagree passionately.
That last one... well, it's gonna serve you well. It's always served Mommy well.
Then again, Mommy's only ever been wrong about one thing. And that's when she stupidly pointed to a crocodile in a book and said: "Crocodile". Too which you pointed out that it actually was a frog.
No... crocodile.
NO. FROG.
No... that's a crocodile.
NO! FROG! FROG! FROG!
I stand corrected.
Love,
Mama
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Almost 2. How Did That Happen?
Dear Hazel,
This weekend, you turned 23 months old. And celebrated the huge accomplishment by coming down with croup. That was fun. Almost as fun as molars.
I felt so bad for you, baby girl. Just listening to you struggling to breathe was awful. But a couple of shots of steroids later and you returned to a somewhat happy Bird. You still spiked a temp every now and then... and let's be honest here, kicked Mommy and Daddy's butts in the process... but overall, you were still our sweet little girl that just wanted to be happy and were willing to fight for it.
The last couple of months have been amazing for you. You've had your fair share of teething pains and you're also starting to skip naps or severely limiting your nap to just 1 hour. Gone are the beautiful days of 3 hour naps, I'm afraid. I miss those days already. Because with taking just the 1 hour nap? Someone throws A LOT more tantrums, these days.
You've also started to play more independently, which is so much fun to watch. You especially love playing in your playhouse in the backyard. I've got to get you some more props because I think you're losing the novelty of bringing me the fake corn or bread when I ask for it. And, Grandma and Grandpa have some explaining to do because after they babysat you and your sissy for a weekend while Daddy and I had some much needed adult time, I came home to discover that when you played in the house and handed me a cup, instead of saying "wa-wa", you were instead saying "pop". I guess we can be grateful that you're not saying Dr. Pepper. Yet.
Speaking of your playhouse, I've had your Daddy spray it repeatedly for spiders. Because - and you'll soon learn this - Mommy will put up with a lot of things. You can hand Mommy a booger and she'll thank you for it, before wiping it on the grass. You can hand Mommy dog poop and she'll thank you for it and then remind you that rocks are not soft. You can hand her "poot" (poop) from when you stick your hands down your diaper, and she'll hold the vomit in and wash your hands before reminding you that "poot" stays in the diaper. But what you should never - MUST NEVER - do, is hand Mommy a spider. While calling it a bug.
Listen, sweetie... there are bugs... and there are SPIDERS. And spiders? Not. Bugs. An aphid? Yes... an aphid is a bug. And Mommy doesn't mind you playing with an aphid... or a roly-poly bug or a dragonfly or a grasshopper. Those are cool things and Mommy's totally down with watching you interact with your world and nature. But spiders? SPIDERS ARE NOT NATURE. Spiders are evil. Spiders can kill people, sweetie. Aphids? No. Aphids don't kill people. Grasshoppers? Grasshoppers kill crops... but that's okay because we live in Utah and the grasshoppers know that if they get out of hand the seagulls will be all: "Oh, no, you diin't!" So the grasshoppers keep a low profile around here. (Non-Utahn's will never understand the genius that is those last two sentences. But you'll get it. Eventually) Dragonfly's? Dragonfly's don't kill people. They eat mosquito's. And they make Mommy happy cuz they're purty. Spiders? Even on the off chance that the spider you're handing me doesn't kill people, he has a distant cousin in Australia, Iraq or next door (lookin' at you black widow and brown recluse) that can. And will. And even if he doesn't kill, he can maim (lookin' at you hobo spider). Therefore, the only responsible thing to do when you see a spider is to hyperventilate and scream until your Daddy comes running with a shoe. Have I clarified this enough for you? Bugs, good. Spiders... can go straight to hell. That's where they came from. Send them home, sweetie. Do NOT hand one to me in a teacup. Ever. Again.
Ahem.
You are talking so much these days. And you pick up on EVERYTHING. And I do mean, EVERYTHING. In fact, Mommy currently "owns" a lot of words that we don't exactly want you repeating in public. That's okay, though... cuz Daddy owns a few things of his own... like how you shove Costco samples into your mouth whole, rather than taking bites. Yep. Daddy owns THAT one. You can also, apparently, spell. Because you used to jump up immediately and head for the door when a walk was suggested. So we started spelling walk. It took about two days before you picked up on that and as soon as we spelled W-A-L-K, you'd run to the door, and yell: WALK!!!
You also like to play on your computer. And pull it out whenever Mommy or Daddy are on our computer. There's just something about OMG BUTTONS!!! that you can't get enough of. And heaven help us if you see Mommy put something in her pocket and you go to do the same and discover - horror of horrors - that you don't have a pocket in those pants. THE HUMANITY! THE ABSOLUTE INDIGNITY OF NOT HAVING POCKETS WHEN YOU NEED A FREAKIN' POCKET!
And while you're getting really good at verbalizing what you want, you still confound us with some of your words that we simply cannot figure out. But when we do figure out what you mean, we feel like we've just passed some sort of Toddler Test. For instance, you have been saying EC, a lot. And it started shortly after Aunt KC babysat you and we just assumed that that was how you said Aunt KC.
Nope.
EC apparently stands for two things:
1) Under the Sea... as in The Little Mermaid song... as in watching the video of Under the Sea on the computer. Over and over and over and over and over....
2) TV. And now we know how Aunt KC keeps you entertained in our absence. You say EC all the time. And unfortunately, when either Mommy or Daddy is single-parenting it, we've had to sit you in your chair, and turn on the EC to Little Einsteins or Sesame Street so that we can feed Millie and put her to bed. So... we're reinforcing the EC. And it sucks. But sometimes... well, sometimes that EC has saved our lives. Seriously... I'm not sure what people did before EC. I'm not sure how they kept their toddler out of the nursery, or kept them from setting the house on fire... but the EC has magical properties in that it can keep a toddler in a trance so that you can feed the baby and get dinner ready without having to navigate around Curious Hazel.
Ah, Curious Hazel. Curious Hazel loves to help. Curious Hazel loves to throw away her diaper or her sissy's diaper. And Curious Hazel likes to put stuff in the sink. Things that may or may not belong in the sink. Mommy has recently lost a wine glass to a bottle that you threw in the sink when I wasn't looking. The good news is... there are more glasses where that one came from. And you were just trying to help. I cannot and will not ever get mad at that. And I will remember this when you're a teenager and I can't get you to pick up a thing.
I've had to keep an eye on you lately because you think that you can pick up your sissy and I've had to jump up quickly and remind you that sissy need to stay on the ground. You like to say "sissy" a lot. And you have started saying Millie... but it comes out Miwwee. And it's so stinkin' cute that I've started saying Miwwee.
You've started to 'negotiate' bedtime. Which I'm not a fan of. We have decided that when it's time to wind down for the night, you get to pick one book for Daddy to read to you, and one book for Mommy to read to you. And that's it. Then we brush our teeth, give you a kiss and put you to bed. We've had a few maintenance sessions of letting you cry for a bit... but this is non-negotiable, as far as I'm concerned. 7:30 is the latest you'll go to bed (barring a late night with friends occasionally) until you're much, much older. Say, 21?
Speaking of books... my goodness, do you like to read!! And not only that, but you are really understanding what's going on in the pictures. And that, to me, is amazing. The other night, we were reading Dr. Seuss' Foot Book. And when we got to the part of "Well feet, Sick feet", you looked at the little character in the book, saw that his feet were "sick" and bandaged up, got a perplexed look on your face and said: "Ohhh." and leaned in to give the feet a kiss to make it better. We read that book 15 times that night and every single time we came to the sick feet, you became very concerned. As if you could feel the pain of the sick feet. I've started showing you pictures of happy babies and crying babies... and you get very concerned when you see the picture of the crying baby and always give it a kiss.
It's so stinkin' adorable I want to cry.
Currently you love having your hair done. In a ponytail on top, pwease. Which is good because you're hair is OUT of control and Mommy doesn't really know what to do with it other than to put it in a ponytail on top of your head, and smile politely when people giggle and say: "Awwww... she's so cute! Did she do her hair by herself?" Look... I happen to think you look great as Pebbles Flintstone. In fact... that's given me a great idea for Halloween.
You definitely know what you want and you're pumped that you can now verbalize it and Mommy jumps whenever you say: Nana, wa-wa, melk, walk, park, pocket, rocks, acorn, tots, bib or piwwow. In fact, I do believe that you wait until I get comfortable or am doing something else to ask me for something. Even if you don't really want or need it. You just like having the power to get me to do something. The good news is that with this power comes great responsibility. And since I know you now understand what I'm saying, there's a little more logic in my parenting. Rather than just taking something from your hand because I know that negotiation is futile, I can reason with you (somewhat) and often get you to relinquish your grip on the rock or the dolly that's not yours. When you hit... and yes, you hit... Mommy or Daddy can talk to you about why we don't hit. And it usually ends with you saying sorry (sowwy) and giving us a hug and a kiss.
That part of parenting rocks.
Love,
Mama
This weekend, you turned 23 months old. And celebrated the huge accomplishment by coming down with croup. That was fun. Almost as fun as molars.
I felt so bad for you, baby girl. Just listening to you struggling to breathe was awful. But a couple of shots of steroids later and you returned to a somewhat happy Bird. You still spiked a temp every now and then... and let's be honest here, kicked Mommy and Daddy's butts in the process... but overall, you were still our sweet little girl that just wanted to be happy and were willing to fight for it.
The last couple of months have been amazing for you. You've had your fair share of teething pains and you're also starting to skip naps or severely limiting your nap to just 1 hour. Gone are the beautiful days of 3 hour naps, I'm afraid. I miss those days already. Because with taking just the 1 hour nap? Someone throws A LOT more tantrums, these days.
Speaking of your playhouse, I've had your Daddy spray it repeatedly for spiders. Because - and you'll soon learn this - Mommy will put up with a lot of things. You can hand Mommy a booger and she'll thank you for it, before wiping it on the grass. You can hand Mommy dog poop and she'll thank you for it and then remind you that rocks are not soft. You can hand her "poot" (poop) from when you stick your hands down your diaper, and she'll hold the vomit in and wash your hands before reminding you that "poot" stays in the diaper. But what you should never - MUST NEVER - do, is hand Mommy a spider. While calling it a bug.
Listen, sweetie... there are bugs... and there are SPIDERS. And spiders? Not. Bugs. An aphid? Yes... an aphid is a bug. And Mommy doesn't mind you playing with an aphid... or a roly-poly bug or a dragonfly or a grasshopper. Those are cool things and Mommy's totally down with watching you interact with your world and nature. But spiders? SPIDERS ARE NOT NATURE. Spiders are evil. Spiders can kill people, sweetie. Aphids? No. Aphids don't kill people. Grasshoppers? Grasshoppers kill crops... but that's okay because we live in Utah and the grasshoppers know that if they get out of hand the seagulls will be all: "Oh, no, you diin't!" So the grasshoppers keep a low profile around here. (Non-Utahn's will never understand the genius that is those last two sentences. But you'll get it. Eventually) Dragonfly's? Dragonfly's don't kill people. They eat mosquito's. And they make Mommy happy cuz they're purty. Spiders? Even on the off chance that the spider you're handing me doesn't kill people, he has a distant cousin in Australia, Iraq or next door (lookin' at you black widow and brown recluse) that can. And will. And even if he doesn't kill, he can maim (lookin' at you hobo spider). Therefore, the only responsible thing to do when you see a spider is to hyperventilate and scream until your Daddy comes running with a shoe. Have I clarified this enough for you? Bugs, good. Spiders... can go straight to hell. That's where they came from. Send them home, sweetie. Do NOT hand one to me in a teacup. Ever. Again.
Ahem.
You are talking so much these days. And you pick up on EVERYTHING. And I do mean, EVERYTHING. In fact, Mommy currently "owns" a lot of words that we don't exactly want you repeating in public. That's okay, though... cuz Daddy owns a few things of his own... like how you shove Costco samples into your mouth whole, rather than taking bites. Yep. Daddy owns THAT one. You can also, apparently, spell. Because you used to jump up immediately and head for the door when a walk was suggested. So we started spelling walk. It took about two days before you picked up on that and as soon as we spelled W-A-L-K, you'd run to the door, and yell: WALK!!!
You also like to play on your computer. And pull it out whenever Mommy or Daddy are on our computer. There's just something about OMG BUTTONS!!! that you can't get enough of. And heaven help us if you see Mommy put something in her pocket and you go to do the same and discover - horror of horrors - that you don't have a pocket in those pants. THE HUMANITY! THE ABSOLUTE INDIGNITY OF NOT HAVING POCKETS WHEN YOU NEED A FREAKIN' POCKET!
And while you're getting really good at verbalizing what you want, you still confound us with some of your words that we simply cannot figure out. But when we do figure out what you mean, we feel like we've just passed some sort of Toddler Test. For instance, you have been saying EC, a lot. And it started shortly after Aunt KC babysat you and we just assumed that that was how you said Aunt KC.
Nope.
EC apparently stands for two things:
1) Under the Sea... as in The Little Mermaid song... as in watching the video of Under the Sea on the computer. Over and over and over and over and over....
2) TV. And now we know how Aunt KC keeps you entertained in our absence. You say EC all the time. And unfortunately, when either Mommy or Daddy is single-parenting it, we've had to sit you in your chair, and turn on the EC to Little Einsteins or Sesame Street so that we can feed Millie and put her to bed. So... we're reinforcing the EC. And it sucks. But sometimes... well, sometimes that EC has saved our lives. Seriously... I'm not sure what people did before EC. I'm not sure how they kept their toddler out of the nursery, or kept them from setting the house on fire... but the EC has magical properties in that it can keep a toddler in a trance so that you can feed the baby and get dinner ready without having to navigate around Curious Hazel.
I've had to keep an eye on you lately because you think that you can pick up your sissy and I've had to jump up quickly and remind you that sissy need to stay on the ground. You like to say "sissy" a lot. And you have started saying Millie... but it comes out Miwwee. And it's so stinkin' cute that I've started saying Miwwee.
You've started to 'negotiate' bedtime. Which I'm not a fan of. We have decided that when it's time to wind down for the night, you get to pick one book for Daddy to read to you, and one book for Mommy to read to you. And that's it. Then we brush our teeth, give you a kiss and put you to bed. We've had a few maintenance sessions of letting you cry for a bit... but this is non-negotiable, as far as I'm concerned. 7:30 is the latest you'll go to bed (barring a late night with friends occasionally) until you're much, much older. Say, 21?
It's so stinkin' adorable I want to cry.
Currently you love having your hair done. In a ponytail on top, pwease. Which is good because you're hair is OUT of control and Mommy doesn't really know what to do with it other than to put it in a ponytail on top of your head, and smile politely when people giggle and say: "Awwww... she's so cute! Did she do her hair by herself?" Look... I happen to think you look great as Pebbles Flintstone. In fact... that's given me a great idea for Halloween.
You definitely know what you want and you're pumped that you can now verbalize it and Mommy jumps whenever you say: Nana, wa-wa, melk, walk, park, pocket, rocks, acorn, tots, bib or piwwow. In fact, I do believe that you wait until I get comfortable or am doing something else to ask me for something. Even if you don't really want or need it. You just like having the power to get me to do something. The good news is that with this power comes great responsibility. And since I know you now understand what I'm saying, there's a little more logic in my parenting. Rather than just taking something from your hand because I know that negotiation is futile, I can reason with you (somewhat) and often get you to relinquish your grip on the rock or the dolly that's not yours. When you hit... and yes, you hit... Mommy or Daddy can talk to you about why we don't hit. And it usually ends with you saying sorry (sowwy) and giving us a hug and a kiss.
That part of parenting rocks.
Love,
Mama
Monday, August 1, 2011
21 Months of The Bird
Dear Hazel,
This weekend, you turned 21 (months). We celebrated by going to a pool party where you were almost successful in giving Mommy a heart-attack by jumping into the deep end. And then after you survived that near drowning, you were pushed to the ladder, climbed up and REPEATED the insanity for the rest of the day.
When you turn 21 years, I can only hope that you won't show as much persistence with what normally occurs for 21st birthdays. And, just to be on the safe side, promise me that you won't go near a pool that day, mkay?
So, the last two months have been amazing for you. You are growing and developing in leaps and bounds. You continue to mimic your Daddy and I every time we turn around. You also appear to mimic Millie... and you want to sit in her car seat or her jump-a-roo whenever she's not in it. And if YOU can't sit in it, then your dolly will. Sometimes, it's a race for Mommy to get Millie into the jump-a-roo before you can stick your dolly in it. Today, it was Raggedy Ann in the car seat.
You love your little sister something fierce. And, I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating: You make my heart melt every morning when you run out to give Millie a hug and a kiss. And every evening when you give her a kiss goodnight before she goes to bed. And in between when you want to hold her, or hold her hand in the car when we're driving. You can't get enough of your sissy. And she feels the same. Which makes us feel like we're the luckiest parents in the world.
You have been pretty happy lately. Oh, trust me. You have your moments of bi-polarness that comes with just being a toddler in a big world where, yea... you don't have a whole lot of power in yet. Not that you don't try to have all the power. But either we've grown numb to it, or you've decided that being happy is better than being difficult. Could be a little bit of both. But whatever it is, it is most welcome.
You've learned how to pout. That didn't take long. You pout about things like Mommy not letting you drive the car. Or the nice girl on the playground who stopped you from picking up the gum she just spit out. But, it's a cute pout. One that makes me feel bad for you and giggle at the same time. You also demand a binkie. You remember... that thing you REFUSED when you were a baby? That's the one. And you want your binkie all the time. And if you can't have your binkie, you'll gladly take Millies. And then hand it to me. Or try to put it back in her mouth. Because, how in the world did it get out of there in the first place?
When I pick you up from day care these days, you walk out with me and wait patiently for me to put Millie down so that we can put you in the car first. I have to do it this way because I'm terrified that you'll run out in the traffic and get killed in the 2 seconds it takes for me to get the carrier secured into the car. So, I set Millie on the sidewalk and turn around to pick you up. As soon as I set her down... THE GAME IS ON. You take off running and giggling back to the door for day care. You love the chase. Mommy doesn't mind the chase, unless she's sore from Crossfit... which is 90% of the time. Sometimes, I have to trick you into getting closer to me before I set Millie down so I have a chance at catching you. But you seem to be picking up on my cleverness.
You are full of words these days, too. Besides truck (tuck), tractor (takta), and binks (binkie), you've now incorporated a word that makes me giggle: Nope.
Seriously... there's just something about the word "nope" that cracks me up and is so much better to hear than the word "no". It might be the emphasis you put on the P, or it might be that I'm seeing so much of myself in you by you just using that word vs the standard "no". I don't know. But it's honestly so heartwarming to me.
You also say "yea"... a lot. This upsets your Daddy as he's all about you speaking correctly.
Hazel, do you want some grapes?
Meanwhile, when Daddy's not looking, Mommy continues to say "Yea". Because I can't remember not to say sh%t, d#^m and h*ll in front of my little mimic. There's no way I'm going to remember to say "Yes" instead of "Yea". Call it the White Trash in me. I can't change.
And yea... let's talk about the swearing for a bit. Honestly... has the music industry always had this much swearing??? I am now FORCED to listen to nursery songs because I think that you like Chris Brown a leetle too much and he's got a couple of f-bombs in his song that Mommy keeps forgetting about. See? These are things that I always thought parents needed to chill about. So the FCC allows the words "ass", "hell" and "damn" to be played on the radio. Who cares? Good parenting should overcome that. THE REST OF US SHOULDN'T BE FORCED TO LISTEN TO EDITED VERSIONS OF WORDS THAT, LET'S BE HONEST, ARE THEY EVEN SWEAR WORDS?
And then I had a toddler who is an absolute sponge. And I really don't want to be raising "that kid" in day care. The one that teaches all of the other kids the four-letter words. Trust me... every class has that kid. I still remember "that kid" that I went to school with.
Anyway, we're trying to get you to say "yea" or "yes" a lot. Because this means you're not being disagreeable and are willing to do what we ask you. Because if we ask you something and you say "nope", and then we force you to do it anyway... THE TODDLER IS NOT HAVING IT. But, if we can trick you by asking you questions that you say "yea" to... in rapid-fire succession, and then throwing in the one that you would normally say "no" to... well, it's like magic. Because even though you don't necessarily want to do something, it's like you know that you just said "yea"... and there's no going back on "yea". Or, at least you haven't quite figured that out yet.
It's awesome.
And, you have recently put together your very first phrase. I had always dreamed of the first semi-coherent sentence would be something like: "Mommy. I love you and you're the most beautiful Mommy in the world. Can I rub your feet with lotion, please"
Or something like that.
Never, in any of my dreams, was your first phrase: "NO WANT IT!" The good news? Now we know that if we give you the banana anyways when you say "NO WANT IT!", that it will likely end up on the floor. The bad news? Holy crap... now you really think you have a choice in your life. No bueno.
You've also become super "helpful" in the last couple of months. You pick things up off the floor.... or the table... or out of the trash can... or out of your nose... and hand it to me. Yay. Mommy.
This has been an epic summer for you so far. We've gone to the beach, we've gone swimming, we've gone to parades, we've hit the park every weekend, we've gone to Kangaroo Zoo and let you jump around all afternoon, we've hit petting zoos, we've gone to the farm, we have gone to the farmers market so you can ride the choo-choo train and the covered wagon. WE HAVE WORN OURSELVES OUT FOR YOU! And you have loved every single minute of it.
You continue to adore music and moving your body. You've started to jump up and down as well. And you're getting some good height! Your new favorite song (and I can't believe I'm admitting this) is Chris Brown's Yeah 3X's. We are required to listen to this song on the way too and from school. Or whenever we're out and about. For whatever reason, you LOVE this song. Mommy used to love the song... but Mommy's kind of over it right about now.
You love to take walks to the park with your little sister. Our favorite park is Mt. Ogden... because it's super shady and you don't burn your little tush going down the slid. And can we talk about the slide for a second? Because, kiddo... you have NO FEAR. You go to the biggest slide they have and just launch yourself like it's just another day at the... well, park. And if there are other kids there, oh, you're ALL ABOUT other kids. And you're also all about climbing and being a monkey. Mostly when Mommy's not looking. The first time this happened, I turned my head for one second to make sure I didn't step in dog poop and when I turned back to tell you to that it was time to go, I discovered that you were hanging by one arm - BY ONE ARM, HAZEL - from a bar at the top of the playground equipment. I knew that if I yelled and ran over to you, it would startle you and you might let go... and rather than wearing the poop-eating grin you were sporting, you'd have a broken FACE. I tried to nonchalantly run over to you, but when I was about 8 feet away, you lost your grip and fell face first on to the ground. About a 7 foot drop. I have no idea how you didn't scrape you face along the giant beam that you landed by. And I have no idea how you didn't break a bone. What I do know is that it scared you... but not enough to keep you away from other death traps. There are currently bets out there to see who is going to survive your childhood. You or me. I'd say right now it's 70-30 in your favor.
You still love to eat. Although, I will say that sometimes you don't eat your whole meal... because you're too excited about playing or rough housing with Daddy. OMG do you love rough housing with Daddy. It's the best part of the day. You're also learning how to play with other kids and adore hanging out with Gavin and Jilly. Gavin took you to a parade and made sure that you didn't get lost. Cuz that's what big brothers do.
You're still a Daddy's Girl, but you are getting over your need to have him hold you the minute he walks in the door. You still run to him and jump up for a hug, but you're able to go about your business after that. And, can I be honest? AWESOMENESS.
Last night, you made me laugh harder than I've ever laughed at you. Seriously, baby girl. You discovered last night how much fun it is to make Mommy laugh. For the first time, you did something purposely to make someone else, besides yourself, laugh. It all started when you ate a grape that, perhaps, was a little sour or tart. I happened to be watching you eat and caught the fist-clenched, eyebrows-arched, lips-pursed, full-body shiver that followed. And it CRACKED me up. You didn't catch on at first, probably thought that Mommy was just being weird again. But then you had another tart grape and another full-body shiver. And Mommy lost it again! That's when you figured it out, and started making the tart-grape face. Over. And over. And over, again! Seriously... I could not stop laughing. And you kept making that face. Pretty soon, I asked: "Hazel. Can you make Mommy laugh?" And because you're brilliant, you understand exactly what I'm asking and pull the tart-grape full-body shiver face. Daddy couldn't figure out what all the ruckus was about... and was sure I was exaggerating how funny you were. But then he caught a glimpse of "The Face". And, well... he realized that I was right. Funniest. Thing. Ever. (below is a pic of "the face"... along with a scrape of "the nose". it's rough being a toddler)
I think we realized that it was the first time you've ever recognized that something you're doing is making someone else laugh. And you LURVE it. I suspect that you're going to have quite the sense of humor when you grow up.... which is good because one of the most important tools you can have in your personality? Humor. How in the world do you think I survived college? How in the world do you think I survived those first few dates with you Dad? For the love, how in the world do you think I have survived every day of your childhood thus far? I have to laugh. Laugh at you. Laugh at your Daddy. Laugh at myself. Laugh at this world that changes every day. And, most importantly, laugh at the absurdity that is the cost of a gallon of gas.
You are a friendly little cuss, Hazel. So much so that I feel the need to teach you about Stranger Danger. But to you, in your innocent world, everyone is a friend. And everyone is capable of holding you when you demand "UP!". You love visiting the farm and spending time with Grandma and Grandpa. Especially on Grandma's hammock. There are so many cool things at the farm... I can't wait until you get a little older and can really enjoy it
.
You have started to become much more balanced in your demands of who should be paying attention to you. No longer do you demand that Daddy hold you all the time. Now, sometimes you actually want Mommy. Which is awesome.
Seriously, Hazey. You have turned into such a little girl. You're not a baby anymore. (Which I keep reminding you when you try to get in the jump-a-roo) And it happened when I wasn't looking. It's like you turned one... and then the world started to spin faster and you aged and developed at a faster rate than I was able to adjust to. It wasn't that long ago that you were screaming in my ear all night long. It wasn't that long ago that you took Daddy and me through the initiation of First Time Parents. How you managed to escape relatively unharmed is still beyond my comprehension. And now... now I have this vivacious, happy, not-quite-2-year-old that brings a smile to my face every stinkin' day. HOW DID YOU DO THAT? And is the rest of your life going to fly by as quickly?
I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that.
Love,
Mama
This weekend, you turned 21 (months). We celebrated by going to a pool party where you were almost successful in giving Mommy a heart-attack by jumping into the deep end. And then after you survived that near drowning, you were pushed to the ladder, climbed up and REPEATED the insanity for the rest of the day.
When you turn 21 years, I can only hope that you won't show as much persistence with what normally occurs for 21st birthdays. And, just to be on the safe side, promise me that you won't go near a pool that day, mkay?
You love your little sister something fierce. And, I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating: You make my heart melt every morning when you run out to give Millie a hug and a kiss. And every evening when you give her a kiss goodnight before she goes to bed. And in between when you want to hold her, or hold her hand in the car when we're driving. You can't get enough of your sissy. And she feels the same. Which makes us feel like we're the luckiest parents in the world. You have been pretty happy lately. Oh, trust me. You have your moments of bi-polarness that comes with just being a toddler in a big world where, yea... you don't have a whole lot of power in yet. Not that you don't try to have all the power. But either we've grown numb to it, or you've decided that being happy is better than being difficult. Could be a little bit of both. But whatever it is, it is most welcome.
When I pick you up from day care these days, you walk out with me and wait patiently for me to put Millie down so that we can put you in the car first. I have to do it this way because I'm terrified that you'll run out in the traffic and get killed in the 2 seconds it takes for me to get the carrier secured into the car. So, I set Millie on the sidewalk and turn around to pick you up. As soon as I set her down... THE GAME IS ON. You take off running and giggling back to the door for day care. You love the chase. Mommy doesn't mind the chase, unless she's sore from Crossfit... which is 90% of the time. Sometimes, I have to trick you into getting closer to me before I set Millie down so I have a chance at catching you. But you seem to be picking up on my cleverness.
You are full of words these days, too. Besides truck (tuck), tractor (takta), and binks (binkie), you've now incorporated a word that makes me giggle: Nope.
Hazel, do you want Mommy to change your diaper?
Nope.
Hazel, do you want to go outside?
Nope.
Hazel, can you please stop licking the pool deck?
Nope.
Hazel, would you like to eat chocolate cake and stay up all night long?
Nope.
Seriously... there's just something about the word "nope" that cracks me up and is so much better to hear than the word "no". It might be the emphasis you put on the P, or it might be that I'm seeing so much of myself in you by you just using that word vs the standard "no". I don't know. But it's honestly so heartwarming to me.
You also say "yea"... a lot. This upsets your Daddy as he's all about you speaking correctly.
Hazel, do you want some grapes?
Yea.
Yessssss. Say yesssss.
Yesssssssssssss.
Okay! Let's get some grapes.
Meanwhile, when Daddy's not looking, Mommy continues to say "Yea". Because I can't remember not to say sh%t, d#^m and h*ll in front of my little mimic. There's no way I'm going to remember to say "Yes" instead of "Yea". Call it the White Trash in me. I can't change.
And yea... let's talk about the swearing for a bit. Honestly... has the music industry always had this much swearing??? I am now FORCED to listen to nursery songs because I think that you like Chris Brown a leetle too much and he's got a couple of f-bombs in his song that Mommy keeps forgetting about. See? These are things that I always thought parents needed to chill about. So the FCC allows the words "ass", "hell" and "damn" to be played on the radio. Who cares? Good parenting should overcome that. THE REST OF US SHOULDN'T BE FORCED TO LISTEN TO EDITED VERSIONS OF WORDS THAT, LET'S BE HONEST, ARE THEY EVEN SWEAR WORDS?
And then I had a toddler who is an absolute sponge. And I really don't want to be raising "that kid" in day care. The one that teaches all of the other kids the four-letter words. Trust me... every class has that kid. I still remember "that kid" that I went to school with.
Anyway, we're trying to get you to say "yea" or "yes" a lot. Because this means you're not being disagreeable and are willing to do what we ask you. Because if we ask you something and you say "nope", and then we force you to do it anyway... THE TODDLER IS NOT HAVING IT. But, if we can trick you by asking you questions that you say "yea" to... in rapid-fire succession, and then throwing in the one that you would normally say "no" to... well, it's like magic. Because even though you don't necessarily want to do something, it's like you know that you just said "yea"... and there's no going back on "yea". Or, at least you haven't quite figured that out yet.
It's awesome.
And, you have recently put together your very first phrase. I had always dreamed of the first semi-coherent sentence would be something like: "Mommy. I love you and you're the most beautiful Mommy in the world. Can I rub your feet with lotion, please"
Or something like that.
Never, in any of my dreams, was your first phrase: "NO WANT IT!" The good news? Now we know that if we give you the banana anyways when you say "NO WANT IT!", that it will likely end up on the floor. The bad news? Holy crap... now you really think you have a choice in your life. No bueno.
You've also become super "helpful" in the last couple of months. You pick things up off the floor.... or the table... or out of the trash can... or out of your nose... and hand it to me. Yay. Mommy.
This has been an epic summer for you so far. We've gone to the beach, we've gone swimming, we've gone to parades, we've hit the park every weekend, we've gone to Kangaroo Zoo and let you jump around all afternoon, we've hit petting zoos, we've gone to the farm, we have gone to the farmers market so you can ride the choo-choo train and the covered wagon. WE HAVE WORN OURSELVES OUT FOR YOU! And you have loved every single minute of it. You continue to adore music and moving your body. You've started to jump up and down as well. And you're getting some good height! Your new favorite song (and I can't believe I'm admitting this) is Chris Brown's Yeah 3X's. We are required to listen to this song on the way too and from school. Or whenever we're out and about. For whatever reason, you LOVE this song. Mommy used to love the song... but Mommy's kind of over it right about now.
You love to take walks to the park with your little sister. Our favorite park is Mt. Ogden... because it's super shady and you don't burn your little tush going down the slid. And can we talk about the slide for a second? Because, kiddo... you have NO FEAR. You go to the biggest slide they have and just launch yourself like it's just another day at the... well, park. And if there are other kids there, oh, you're ALL ABOUT other kids. And you're also all about climbing and being a monkey. Mostly when Mommy's not looking. The first time this happened, I turned my head for one second to make sure I didn't step in dog poop and when I turned back to tell you to that it was time to go, I discovered that you were hanging by one arm - BY ONE ARM, HAZEL - from a bar at the top of the playground equipment. I knew that if I yelled and ran over to you, it would startle you and you might let go... and rather than wearing the poop-eating grin you were sporting, you'd have a broken FACE. I tried to nonchalantly run over to you, but when I was about 8 feet away, you lost your grip and fell face first on to the ground. About a 7 foot drop. I have no idea how you didn't scrape you face along the giant beam that you landed by. And I have no idea how you didn't break a bone. What I do know is that it scared you... but not enough to keep you away from other death traps. There are currently bets out there to see who is going to survive your childhood. You or me. I'd say right now it's 70-30 in your favor.
You still love to eat. Although, I will say that sometimes you don't eat your whole meal... because you're too excited about playing or rough housing with Daddy. OMG do you love rough housing with Daddy. It's the best part of the day. You're also learning how to play with other kids and adore hanging out with Gavin and Jilly. Gavin took you to a parade and made sure that you didn't get lost. Cuz that's what big brothers do. You're still a Daddy's Girl, but you are getting over your need to have him hold you the minute he walks in the door. You still run to him and jump up for a hug, but you're able to go about your business after that. And, can I be honest? AWESOMENESS.
Last night, you made me laugh harder than I've ever laughed at you. Seriously, baby girl. You discovered last night how much fun it is to make Mommy laugh. For the first time, you did something purposely to make someone else, besides yourself, laugh. It all started when you ate a grape that, perhaps, was a little sour or tart. I happened to be watching you eat and caught the fist-clenched, eyebrows-arched, lips-pursed, full-body shiver that followed. And it CRACKED me up. You didn't catch on at first, probably thought that Mommy was just being weird again. But then you had another tart grape and another full-body shiver. And Mommy lost it again! That's when you figured it out, and started making the tart-grape face. Over. And over. And over, again! Seriously... I could not stop laughing. And you kept making that face. Pretty soon, I asked: "Hazel. Can you make Mommy laugh?" And because you're brilliant, you understand exactly what I'm asking and pull the tart-grape full-body shiver face. Daddy couldn't figure out what all the ruckus was about... and was sure I was exaggerating how funny you were. But then he caught a glimpse of "The Face". And, well... he realized that I was right. Funniest. Thing. Ever. (below is a pic of "the face"... along with a scrape of "the nose". it's rough being a toddler)
I think we realized that it was the first time you've ever recognized that something you're doing is making someone else laugh. And you LURVE it. I suspect that you're going to have quite the sense of humor when you grow up.... which is good because one of the most important tools you can have in your personality? Humor. How in the world do you think I survived college? How in the world do you think I survived those first few dates with you Dad? For the love, how in the world do you think I have survived every day of your childhood thus far? I have to laugh. Laugh at you. Laugh at your Daddy. Laugh at myself. Laugh at this world that changes every day. And, most importantly, laugh at the absurdity that is the cost of a gallon of gas.
You are a friendly little cuss, Hazel. So much so that I feel the need to teach you about Stranger Danger. But to you, in your innocent world, everyone is a friend. And everyone is capable of holding you when you demand "UP!". You love visiting the farm and spending time with Grandma and Grandpa. Especially on Grandma's hammock. There are so many cool things at the farm... I can't wait until you get a little older and can really enjoy it.
You have started to become much more balanced in your demands of who should be paying attention to you. No longer do you demand that Daddy hold you all the time. Now, sometimes you actually want Mommy. Which is awesome.Seriously, Hazey. You have turned into such a little girl. You're not a baby anymore. (Which I keep reminding you when you try to get in the jump-a-roo) And it happened when I wasn't looking. It's like you turned one... and then the world started to spin faster and you aged and developed at a faster rate than I was able to adjust to. It wasn't that long ago that you were screaming in my ear all night long. It wasn't that long ago that you took Daddy and me through the initiation of First Time Parents. How you managed to escape relatively unharmed is still beyond my comprehension. And now... now I have this vivacious, happy, not-quite-2-year-old that brings a smile to my face every stinkin' day. HOW DID YOU DO THAT? And is the rest of your life going to fly by as quickly?
I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that.
Love,
Mama
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
... It'll Be A Short Drive
Dear Girls,
This weekend was my birthday. Your dear old Mommy turned a whopping 34-years-old. ANCIENT. But, with the help of a little dye, my hair looks like that of a 20-something, even if the laugh lines around my eyes don't. So I've got that going for me.
Your grandparents came down to visit and got to spend some quality babysitting time with you while Daddy and I went on a hike to Waterfall Canyon. The last time I made that trip was when I was 6 months pregnant with Hazel... and thinking about that now blows my mind! We can't wait to take the two of you up there! It's going to require a lot of patience on our part and a lot of energy on your part. But I see families with 5 or 6 kids making that trip and even the littlest ones seem to be a having a good time, so I believe our visit will be sooner rather than later.
It was a great weekend. I woke up to find these that Hazel and Daddy had picked.
Millie... well, the only thing you can pick right now is your binkie out of your mouth (yea.... you're GOOD), but the flowers were from both of you. Right out of my garden!
Sunday morning, we decided to make a trip to the doctor's office. Hazel had been coughing on and off for a couple of weeks and Millie had started to cough a couple of days prior. So, just to be on the safe side (and live up to my "THAT mother" status at the clinic) we took you both in. The doc thought Hazel had allergies, but I had my suspicions. So, she gave us some Claritin as well as a prescription for an antibiotic and told us to only fill it if the Claritin didn't work. I was fully prepared to fill that prescription and say "Screw the allergy theory!", and was shocked to discover that the Claritin? It worked. And our little ray of sunshine... who has, for the past week or so been a holy living terror and super whiny?
She's baaaccckkkkkk!
Allergies, huh? WHO KNEW? This is just a not-so-gentle reminder to us that when Hazel is whiny and needy and OMG WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE CRYING OVER EVERYTHING?... well, that just means that there's something going on with her. Sick. Allergies. Something.
She's not being evil just to be evil. Or "two-ish" as the pediatrician put it.
She's not being evil just to be evil. This will be my mantra.
I may have to put it up as a wall decal somewhere in the house.
Millie, on the other hand... well, she has bronchiolitis. Or RSV. We're not sure. But since the treatment is the same for both, we didn't bother with the test. Doing some reading on bronchiolitis... well, let's just say it's a huge bummer. It's defined as the swelling and mucus buildup in the smallest air passages in the lungs (bronchioles), usually due to a viral infection. AWESOME. Millie had breathing issues when she was born, so I wonder if she is particularly susceptible to it. I'm hoping that we've reached the peak of her coughing.
She's been awfully needy lately... anxiety, I suppose. She has even fallen asleep on both myself and Benny several times in the last few days. I mean, Millie doesn't ever want to snuggle and right now, I'm not really allowed to put her down without her crying. Oh, also... SOMEONE HAS FOUND HER LUNGS. Holy Mother of All That Used To Be Holy In This House.... she's going to give Hazel a run for her money. She could give Steven Tyler a run for his money. As a matter of fact, I challenge Steven Tyler to come visit us and we'll compare. And, hey... if that means that I get to act on my Laminated List of Celebs I Get To Make Out With? SO. BE. IT.
Anyway, this also means that the nights are tough. When she wakes up, we have to suction out her nose, which totally wakes her up. We also have to give her breathing treatments... the same ones we gave Hazel when she was four months old and had RSV. I'm telling you, though... Millie is WAY stronger than Hazel was at this age. And, if possible... more tenacious. She fights the breathing treatments like NOBODY'S BUSINESS. We can't trick her into it like we could with Hazel... which was by standing inches away from the TV and hoping that the big pretty lights would distract her. They don't.
And when she feeds.... well, let's just say that I had already forgotten how sore nipples get when a baby is sick, because they feed like EVERY HOUR. On top of that, it's like she's trying to find whatever comfort she can by clamping down on my poor, unsuspecting nipples. Luckily, Benny has been able to spell me during one of the night shifts and will rock with her for a bit after I feed her so I can get some rest. Guess we get to re-do the sleep training after she feels better.
Poor Millie. The one saving grace during this whole experience is that the Claritin has helped Hazel and when she comes home at night and when she makes up in the morning, she's not demanding. She waits patiently for me to finish feeding Millie or cooking breakfast or dinner or whatever. She even plays by herself without whining or throwing a fit. In short, she's my lifesaver. Millie was my lifesaver when Hazel was acting up... THANK GOD THE TWO OF THEM DON'T WORK TOGETHER TO DRIVE ME BONKERS YET.
Love,
Mama
This weekend was my birthday. Your dear old Mommy turned a whopping 34-years-old. ANCIENT. But, with the help of a little dye, my hair looks like that of a 20-something, even if the laugh lines around my eyes don't. So I've got that going for me.
Your grandparents came down to visit and got to spend some quality babysitting time with you while Daddy and I went on a hike to Waterfall Canyon. The last time I made that trip was when I was 6 months pregnant with Hazel... and thinking about that now blows my mind! We can't wait to take the two of you up there! It's going to require a lot of patience on our part and a lot of energy on your part. But I see families with 5 or 6 kids making that trip and even the littlest ones seem to be a having a good time, so I believe our visit will be sooner rather than later.
It was a great weekend. I woke up to find these that Hazel and Daddy had picked.
Millie... well, the only thing you can pick right now is your binkie out of your mouth (yea.... you're GOOD), but the flowers were from both of you. Right out of my garden!
Sunday morning, we decided to make a trip to the doctor's office. Hazel had been coughing on and off for a couple of weeks and Millie had started to cough a couple of days prior. So, just to be on the safe side (and live up to my "THAT mother" status at the clinic) we took you both in. The doc thought Hazel had allergies, but I had my suspicions. So, she gave us some Claritin as well as a prescription for an antibiotic and told us to only fill it if the Claritin didn't work. I was fully prepared to fill that prescription and say "Screw the allergy theory!", and was shocked to discover that the Claritin? It worked. And our little ray of sunshine... who has, for the past week or so been a holy living terror and super whiny?
She's baaaccckkkkkk!
Allergies, huh? WHO KNEW? This is just a not-so-gentle reminder to us that when Hazel is whiny and needy and OMG WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE CRYING OVER EVERYTHING?... well, that just means that there's something going on with her. Sick. Allergies. Something.
She's not being evil just to be evil. Or "two-ish" as the pediatrician put it.
She's not being evil just to be evil. This will be my mantra.
I may have to put it up as a wall decal somewhere in the house.
Millie, on the other hand... well, she has bronchiolitis. Or RSV. We're not sure. But since the treatment is the same for both, we didn't bother with the test. Doing some reading on bronchiolitis... well, let's just say it's a huge bummer. It's defined as the swelling and mucus buildup in the smallest air passages in the lungs (bronchioles), usually due to a viral infection. AWESOME. Millie had breathing issues when she was born, so I wonder if she is particularly susceptible to it. I'm hoping that we've reached the peak of her coughing.
She's been awfully needy lately... anxiety, I suppose. She has even fallen asleep on both myself and Benny several times in the last few days. I mean, Millie doesn't ever want to snuggle and right now, I'm not really allowed to put her down without her crying. Oh, also... SOMEONE HAS FOUND HER LUNGS. Holy Mother of All That Used To Be Holy In This House.... she's going to give Hazel a run for her money. She could give Steven Tyler a run for his money. As a matter of fact, I challenge Steven Tyler to come visit us and we'll compare. And, hey... if that means that I get to act on my Laminated List of Celebs I Get To Make Out With? SO. BE. IT.
Anyway, this also means that the nights are tough. When she wakes up, we have to suction out her nose, which totally wakes her up. We also have to give her breathing treatments... the same ones we gave Hazel when she was four months old and had RSV. I'm telling you, though... Millie is WAY stronger than Hazel was at this age. And, if possible... more tenacious. She fights the breathing treatments like NOBODY'S BUSINESS. We can't trick her into it like we could with Hazel... which was by standing inches away from the TV and hoping that the big pretty lights would distract her. They don't.
And when she feeds.... well, let's just say that I had already forgotten how sore nipples get when a baby is sick, because they feed like EVERY HOUR. On top of that, it's like she's trying to find whatever comfort she can by clamping down on my poor, unsuspecting nipples. Luckily, Benny has been able to spell me during one of the night shifts and will rock with her for a bit after I feed her so I can get some rest. Guess we get to re-do the sleep training after she feels better.
Poor Millie. The one saving grace during this whole experience is that the Claritin has helped Hazel and when she comes home at night and when she makes up in the morning, she's not demanding. She waits patiently for me to finish feeding Millie or cooking breakfast or dinner or whatever. She even plays by herself without whining or throwing a fit. In short, she's my lifesaver. Millie was my lifesaver when Hazel was acting up... THANK GOD THE TWO OF THEM DON'T WORK TOGETHER TO DRIVE ME BONKERS YET.
Love,
Mama
Thursday, May 5, 2011
My Girls
Dear Girls,
Happy Cinco de Mayo!!! So much has changed in the last year. Last year, Millie was not even a bun in the oven. And Hazel was just one day away from being weaned from the boob. Last year, we had a gaping hole in the floor, with no plans of fixing it and I was not sure I wanted another baby because... MAN, is this HARD!!!
Fast forward 12 months and our family of three is now a complete family of four and our lives which were in total chaos for the first six months of Hazel's life, are now running like a well-oiled machine, and we can't imagine life without our two little girls.
These days, Hazel, you are a happy (unless you're sick) 18-month-old who likes to jabber on about nothing in particular. And occasionally, you actually throw out a word that Mommy and Daddy recognize. For instance, a couple of weeks ago I took you shopping and you were such a doll during the trip that when we got to the check out line and you pointed at a balloon and said "ball"... well, I caved and spent the $3 on it. And made your day. Daddy then made your day further when he taught you how to hit him on the head with the balloon (it's one that's on a stick). And you started to say "boo", which is Hazel-speak for TOTALLY AWESOME BALLOON THAT I GET TO HIT DADDY ON THE HEAD WITH... HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
You also imitate certain words that you hear us say a lot.
Like boogie. We say boogie all the time as we're doing booger removal from your nose. Which actually includes me grabbing your boogers with tweezers, pulling it out and showing it to her while saying "Boogie!" This is the only way you don't throw a fit while we try to tend to the amazing amount of boogers in your nose. You're also experimenting with saying things like "toast", "diaper", "cheese", "cracker", "ball", "two", "baby", "tree", "bird", "woof", "dog" and "dada". Often, when you're asking where Daddy is, you use your modified sign language for him... which is pointing at your head with a look of confusion on her face. You also know the sign for Grandpa and recognizes when I say Grandpa. The other day, you were looking at a book with a tractor in it and I told you that Grandpa drives a tractor. You kept pointing at the tractor and then doing the sign for Grandpa. Wait until I blow your mind when we see a school bus. Wait! Grandpa drives a tractor AND a bus???? I'm not sure you'll be able to comprehend exactly that, but I know you'll make the sign every time you sees one or the other.
You have also discovered the awesome world of Mommy's bathroom. There you get to practice flushing the toilet. And you get to try and grab whatever Mommy has left near the edge of the counter. And when you inevitably snag something (say, foundation, mascara, hairspray) you take off with it. It's like you KNOW that it's the one thing Mommy hasn't used yet that morning and will make a trade of cookies for. At 8 a.m.
Smart little girl. Almost proud of you for manipulating the situation.
Aunt KC also taught you to pick dandylions and there's not one of those weeds that you walk by without picking it and trying to stick it in your ear. Apparently, you also do this at day care, much to the delight of the teachers. I'm absolutely happy with this as I'd like to teach you at a young age to pick weeds, rather than Mommy's tulips. See how well it's going?
You have also fallen in love with mousse. And will come into the bathroom, point at the can and say "moosh" and hold out your hand, expecting the soft, foamy stuff. Luckily, you don't try to eat it, but you sure do love to mush it in your hands and then rub it in your hair like I taught you to.
You're really into her sunglasses these days, too. You insist on them whenever you see me put on my glasses. And you wore them to school today. I can't tell you how hard I laughed as you sat down at the table for breakfast in your sunglasses and jacket on while looking at the other kids as if to say: YOU ONLY WISH YOU COOL ENOUGH TO WEAR SUNGLASSES AT BREAKFAST.
Millie, you continue to be a rock star baby. My goodness are you easy. You love to smile and make faces at me after I feed you, although you're still not a fan of cuddling. That's probably the hardest thing for me.... wanting to cuddle and knowing that my 10-week-old wants nothing of the sort. You just want to look at people. Look them in the eye to see if they''re good people or not. You have no need to look at what's going on behind my back... you want to face the world. What a cool thing! But it's a huge bummer to not to get to snuggle with your baby.
You never cry. Unless you're hungry or wet. And you love to watch your big sister running around. I never have to worry about you because you're is one thing that Hazel rarely was: content. You just enjoys... being. And you have transitioned to day care extremely well. I never would have considered leaving Hazel for Daddy to deal with on his own at night at 2 months. But, with my little Chilly Millie, I have a standing Wednesday night date with my girlfriend Jodi. And Daddy has a standing Thursday night drama - I mean poker - club.
Lately, you have been going to sleep around 8. Which means we have the evening to ourselves. I can't believe it only took a couple of months for that to happen. I mean, it felt like FOREVER while we were going through it... but it wasn't that bad even then!
The one thing you will not tolerate? Taking a bottle from me. It's like you know... Hey! You're the milk lady! GET THIS BOTTLE OUT OF MY FACE AND WHIP 'EM OUT! Daddy and the ladies at day care are the only ones you'll take a bottle from. Luckily, I've been able to keep my milk supply up.
Mostly by drinking a beer every day. Yep. I'm THAT Mommy. At least, that's what I'm hoping is causing the turnaround in milk supply. It's either that or the $70/week prescription that I have to buy. Yep... the big benefit of breastfeeding is that it's free. Not for me, though.
I have to pay.
Awesome.
I can't wait until the day that both of you girls are running around. Your head and neck are so strong already. It won't be long before we can start putting you in the little bumbo seat. And possibly jump-a-roo. I give it another month.
The ladies at day care continue to gush over both of your. It makes me feel better knowing that my daughters... the most important people in my world... are taken care of and loved while I'm at work.
I love both of you girls more than you'll ever know. I hope that I'm the Mommy you deserve... and the Mommy that deserves you both.
Love,
Mama
I'm writing this letter to both of you because, quite frankly, if I spend time right now writing two different letters, the house will never get picked up and the laundry will never get done. Also, I hope that this letter will give you some insight into what our world is like... right now... as a family of four. Enjoy.
Happy Cinco de Mayo!!! So much has changed in the last year. Last year, Millie was not even a bun in the oven. And Hazel was just one day away from being weaned from the boob. Last year, we had a gaping hole in the floor, with no plans of fixing it and I was not sure I wanted another baby because... MAN, is this HARD!!!
Fast forward 12 months and our family of three is now a complete family of four and our lives which were in total chaos for the first six months of Hazel's life, are now running like a well-oiled machine, and we can't imagine life without our two little girls.
These days, Hazel, you are a happy (unless you're sick) 18-month-old who likes to jabber on about nothing in particular. And occasionally, you actually throw out a word that Mommy and Daddy recognize. For instance, a couple of weeks ago I took you shopping and you were such a doll during the trip that when we got to the check out line and you pointed at a balloon and said "ball"... well, I caved and spent the $3 on it. And made your day. Daddy then made your day further when he taught you how to hit him on the head with the balloon (it's one that's on a stick). And you started to say "boo", which is Hazel-speak for TOTALLY AWESOME BALLOON THAT I GET TO HIT DADDY ON THE HEAD WITH... HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
You also imitate certain words that you hear us say a lot.
Like boogie. We say boogie all the time as we're doing booger removal from your nose. Which actually includes me grabbing your boogers with tweezers, pulling it out and showing it to her while saying "Boogie!" This is the only way you don't throw a fit while we try to tend to the amazing amount of boogers in your nose. You're also experimenting with saying things like "toast", "diaper", "cheese", "cracker", "ball", "two", "baby", "tree", "bird", "woof", "dog" and "dada". Often, when you're asking where Daddy is, you use your modified sign language for him... which is pointing at your head with a look of confusion on her face. You also know the sign for Grandpa and recognizes when I say Grandpa. The other day, you were looking at a book with a tractor in it and I told you that Grandpa drives a tractor. You kept pointing at the tractor and then doing the sign for Grandpa. Wait until I blow your mind when we see a school bus. Wait! Grandpa drives a tractor AND a bus???? I'm not sure you'll be able to comprehend exactly that, but I know you'll make the sign every time you sees one or the other.
You have also discovered the awesome world of Mommy's bathroom. There you get to practice flushing the toilet. And you get to try and grab whatever Mommy has left near the edge of the counter. And when you inevitably snag something (say, foundation, mascara, hairspray) you take off with it. It's like you KNOW that it's the one thing Mommy hasn't used yet that morning and will make a trade of cookies for. At 8 a.m.
Smart little girl. Almost proud of you for manipulating the situation.
Aunt KC also taught you to pick dandylions and there's not one of those weeds that you walk by without picking it and trying to stick it in your ear. Apparently, you also do this at day care, much to the delight of the teachers. I'm absolutely happy with this as I'd like to teach you at a young age to pick weeds, rather than Mommy's tulips. See how well it's going?
You have also fallen in love with mousse. And will come into the bathroom, point at the can and say "moosh" and hold out your hand, expecting the soft, foamy stuff. Luckily, you don't try to eat it, but you sure do love to mush it in your hands and then rub it in your hair like I taught you to.
You're really into her sunglasses these days, too. You insist on them whenever you see me put on my glasses. And you wore them to school today. I can't tell you how hard I laughed as you sat down at the table for breakfast in your sunglasses and jacket on while looking at the other kids as if to say: YOU ONLY WISH YOU COOL ENOUGH TO WEAR SUNGLASSES AT BREAKFAST.Today they officially moved you down to the 18-24 month old room. I had been told it would be a little while before you moved down... which was heartening to me as I love the ladies in the 12-18 month old room. And it's easier to drop you off as it's right next to Millie's room. And the other room is on the other side of the building, down two flights of stairs and... yea, sometimes you want to do the stairs yourself. And other times you want me to carry you down. Not a problem... if I weren't also carrying Millie's car seat. But, I'm sure you'll have a good time down there with your friends Jaxton, Quincy and Emmy. As long as Jaxton stops kissing on you and giving Daddy a heart attack.
Millie, you continue to be a rock star baby. My goodness are you easy. You love to smile and make faces at me after I feed you, although you're still not a fan of cuddling. That's probably the hardest thing for me.... wanting to cuddle and knowing that my 10-week-old wants nothing of the sort. You just want to look at people. Look them in the eye to see if they''re good people or not. You have no need to look at what's going on behind my back... you want to face the world. What a cool thing! But it's a huge bummer to not to get to snuggle with your baby.You still like being swaddled and sleeping with your binkie. You've been throwing down some awesome overnighters. Just the other night, you slept from 7:45-4:15! And you've done at least 6 hours in-a-row for the last week or so. This after you hadn't slept more than 3 hours at a time your entire life. It's like all of the sudden you decided she would take it easy on me, since you somehow knew I was going back to work and needed some sleep!
You never cry. Unless you're hungry or wet. And you love to watch your big sister running around. I never have to worry about you because you're is one thing that Hazel rarely was: content. You just enjoys... being. And you have transitioned to day care extremely well. I never would have considered leaving Hazel for Daddy to deal with on his own at night at 2 months. But, with my little Chilly Millie, I have a standing Wednesday night date with my girlfriend Jodi. And Daddy has a standing Thursday night drama - I mean poker - club.
Lately, you have been going to sleep around 8. Which means we have the evening to ourselves. I can't believe it only took a couple of months for that to happen. I mean, it felt like FOREVER while we were going through it... but it wasn't that bad even then!
The one thing you will not tolerate? Taking a bottle from me. It's like you know... Hey! You're the milk lady! GET THIS BOTTLE OUT OF MY FACE AND WHIP 'EM OUT! Daddy and the ladies at day care are the only ones you'll take a bottle from. Luckily, I've been able to keep my milk supply up.
Mostly by drinking a beer every day. Yep. I'm THAT Mommy. At least, that's what I'm hoping is causing the turnaround in milk supply. It's either that or the $70/week prescription that I have to buy. Yep... the big benefit of breastfeeding is that it's free. Not for me, though.
I have to pay.
Awesome.
I can't wait until the day that both of you girls are running around. Your head and neck are so strong already. It won't be long before we can start putting you in the little bumbo seat. And possibly jump-a-roo. I give it another month.
The ladies at day care continue to gush over both of your. It makes me feel better knowing that my daughters... the most important people in my world... are taken care of and loved while I'm at work.
The Bean's first day at "school". Her big sister is excited for her!
I love both of you girls more than you'll ever know. I hope that I'm the Mommy you deserve... and the Mommy that deserves you both.
Love,
Mama
Monday, April 18, 2011
18 Months. WHAT?
Dear Hazel,
It's been a rough couple of weeks for you. But you have emerged relatively unscathed and looking more like the little angel that you are.
You (and everyone else in day care) had a runny nose for a couple of weeks. But it didn't bother you and you went on your merry way. In fact, Daddy "taught" you how to blow your nose. Somewhat. We hold the tissue to your nose and say: "What sound does a moose make?' And then you snort into the tissue. Meanwhile, we use this distraction to wipe your nose. It seemed to be working well and then... well, then the runny nose started to really get bad. We're talking green boogers and blood bad. And you started to get SUPER fussy. But, we figured that maybe you were teething again... because really, have you stopped teething in the last year? Nope. So, we'd give you some Tylenol and just deal with your fussiness.
Then one day, I got a call from day care telling me you had a fever. Weird. But, often when you have a fever at day care, I bring you home and check and it's a full degree less than what it was at day care and not a problem. So, I wasn't too worried. Until I picked you up and brought you home. By the time we got home, your temp had gone from 100 at day care to 102. I quickly gave you some Tylenol and put you to bed. Because Mommy's an idiot that way.
You woke back up and your temp was normal so I thought we were out of the woods. Until 2 hours later and your temp was back up to 102. Blah. By then, it was too late to get you to the doctor so we figured we'd see if you miraculously recovered overnight. But, you woke up at midnight needing another dose and we knew it was a big deal.
The next day, we took you to the doc to find out that you had a bacterial sinus infection that absolutely needed treatment. Yep. Your mother... is completely inept with you.
Anyway, after just the first two doses of antibiotic, your nose was starting to clear up... but you were even more fussy than before. We had started to give you children's Motrin because it lasted longer than the Tylenol because, for some stupid reason, we thought that you were still teething.
And still... you continued to fuss. And it was the kind of "fuss" that echoed those first few weeks of your life where I wanted to rip off my ears and smash my head through the front door. You remember those days, don't you? When you were pure evil? Yea... that's pretty much where we were with you last weekend.
Finally, after day two of the constant whining... the constant, unending, unmerciful whining that had both Mommy and Daddy at the end of our ropes... your Daddy went to change your pj's (yes... we left you in pj's until noon because we knew you would freak out if we dared change you) and noticed a rash that covered your entire torso.
Yea... that couldn't have been comfortable. We immediately jumped into action (two days too late, but waddayagonnado?) and put some hydrocortisone on it and voila! Within 15 minutes, our CrankyPants had almost returned to her regularly scheduled programming. Turns out, someone's allergic to ibuprofen. You know... the same stuff we'd been shoving down your gullet for two days because we thought your fussiness was due to teething, when really it was due to THE IBUPROFEN.
Seriously. Parents. Of. The. Year.
What really sucked about the whole situation was that Grandma and Grandpa Nadolski were in town to visit and... yea, we didn't get to show off your angel-like qualities that we'd been telling everyone about. Oh well... there's always San Diego.
In other news, you now have more toys at your disposal than you know what to do with. And that Mommy keeps tripping over. But, do you know what you want to play with? The only thing that holds your attention for more than 15 seconds? Markers. Specifically, the pink marker. More specifically, the pink marker's cap that you want to take on and off and on and off and on and off... and then when you put it on and can't get it off you scream and bring it to me to take off... so that you can put it back on again.
Yep.
Since the episode with the ibuprofen, you have been an angel. I mean... seriously. An ANGEL. You are helpful around the house. You like to help me empty the new dishwasher (which I'm already planning on reminding you of when you're 15). Although, today you climbed on to the new dishwashers new door. And Mommy's brain almost exploded. Did I mention that it's NEW?
But, climbing is your thing these days. As is dancing. Not that dancing hasn't ALWAYS been your thing, but this dancing is more joyful and happy than before. Like you're finally getting how amazing it is to move your body and think that everyone else in the world is stupid for not partaking in this magic.
You've started to talk a little more. The other day, you blew my mind when I gave you some cottage cheese and you said "Thank You." You. Said. THANK YOU. While also making the sign for it. I couldn't believe it! Granted, the majority of it is jibber-jabber... and you are telling some amazing stories that I can't wait to hear about when you actually start talking... but you are picking up on and imitating words that we say. Shoes. Cheese. And... well, deuce.
Yep. It's possible that Mommy and Daddy taught you to say "deuce" when you potty #2. This happened completely innocently. You've taken to using the sign for potty whenever you... go. We've heard that this means we should start potty training you... but honestly, that sounds HARD. So, we're ignoring that advice for now. Anyway, one day you made the sign and we asked if you went #1 or #2. And I think that you like the sound of #2... and tried to repeat it. But it came out "deuce". And when we checked... YEP! DEUCE!
Babe! Come quick! Our daughter is freaking brilliant!!!! Call your parents!!!
Ah... the miracle of parenthood. Feeling pride that your daughter accidentally told you she deuced while you clean up said deuce. We may have taken this to the extreme.
(Who? US?)
I cannot believe how much you've grown in the past couple of months. Physically, mentally, emotionally... you're not a baby anymore. Sometimes I find it hard to classify you as a toddler. It seems like you grow every day and you're my little girl now. And that just breaks my heart. I can't believe how fast it's gone. And I still look back (and feel guilty) about those first few months where I was wishing you'd get just a little bit older... faster... so I wouldn't have to carry you everywhere. Or grind up your food. Or have to rock you down for an hour before you would fall asleep.
Now? Well, the only time you want me to carry you anywhere is when I'm carrying the car seat. Which is usually up the stairs at day care. You usually love to tackle the stairs. But, it's like you're trying to prove a point. And food? Forget about it. You will eat just about anything. At any time of day. And are constantly asking for more? more? more? I mean, it's cute and I adore hearing your voice... it just makes me think about the time when you were completely and totally dependent on me and couldn't just go to the pantry and pull out a box of rice and spill it on the floor while looking for crackers. And forget about me rocking you to sleep at night. That ship has sailed. I get just enough time to tell you I love you and get a kiss from you before you lean back as if to say: Alright! Bedtime, Mommy!
I do realize that this is not something I should complain about. But... you know. I miss it.
You are a great big sister to Millie. And boy, is she enthralled with you. You like to help me feed her when she's taking a bottle. And when I feed her in the morning, you don't get upset anymore and just play by yourself until we're done. You also like to give her kisses. Lots and lots of kisses. And sneezes. Lots and lots of sneezes.
I love you so much, Hazel. I can't wait until this stupid spring weather clears up so we can take you to the zoo and show you all the animals. You're old enough that I think you'll actually enjoy it. Of course, that means either Mommy or Daddy is going to wear themselves out chasing after you. You like to get out and run, that's for sure. Prior to having kids, I openly judged those parents who had their kids on leashes. I mean, how hard can it POSSIBLY BE to keep an eye on your 18 month old and keep them close to you?
Turns out? REALLY. FREAKIN'. HARD.
But, I still can't put a leash on you. Not that there haven't been days I've seriously considered it. And that's just for in our house. But, I've decided that this is part of parenting. And this is what we chose. And that this, too, shall pass. Hopefully before you manage to sneak into the ostrich pen.
Love,
Mama
It's been a rough couple of weeks for you. But you have emerged relatively unscathed and looking more like the little angel that you are.
You (and everyone else in day care) had a runny nose for a couple of weeks. But it didn't bother you and you went on your merry way. In fact, Daddy "taught" you how to blow your nose. Somewhat. We hold the tissue to your nose and say: "What sound does a moose make?' And then you snort into the tissue. Meanwhile, we use this distraction to wipe your nose. It seemed to be working well and then... well, then the runny nose started to really get bad. We're talking green boogers and blood bad. And you started to get SUPER fussy. But, we figured that maybe you were teething again... because really, have you stopped teething in the last year? Nope. So, we'd give you some Tylenol and just deal with your fussiness.
Then one day, I got a call from day care telling me you had a fever. Weird. But, often when you have a fever at day care, I bring you home and check and it's a full degree less than what it was at day care and not a problem. So, I wasn't too worried. Until I picked you up and brought you home. By the time we got home, your temp had gone from 100 at day care to 102. I quickly gave you some Tylenol and put you to bed. Because Mommy's an idiot that way.
You woke back up and your temp was normal so I thought we were out of the woods. Until 2 hours later and your temp was back up to 102. Blah. By then, it was too late to get you to the doctor so we figured we'd see if you miraculously recovered overnight. But, you woke up at midnight needing another dose and we knew it was a big deal.
The next day, we took you to the doc to find out that you had a bacterial sinus infection that absolutely needed treatment. Yep. Your mother... is completely inept with you.
Anyway, after just the first two doses of antibiotic, your nose was starting to clear up... but you were even more fussy than before. We had started to give you children's Motrin because it lasted longer than the Tylenol because, for some stupid reason, we thought that you were still teething.
And still... you continued to fuss. And it was the kind of "fuss" that echoed those first few weeks of your life where I wanted to rip off my ears and smash my head through the front door. You remember those days, don't you? When you were pure evil? Yea... that's pretty much where we were with you last weekend.
Finally, after day two of the constant whining... the constant, unending, unmerciful whining that had both Mommy and Daddy at the end of our ropes... your Daddy went to change your pj's (yes... we left you in pj's until noon because we knew you would freak out if we dared change you) and noticed a rash that covered your entire torso.
Yea... that couldn't have been comfortable. We immediately jumped into action (two days too late, but waddayagonnado?) and put some hydrocortisone on it and voila! Within 15 minutes, our CrankyPants had almost returned to her regularly scheduled programming. Turns out, someone's allergic to ibuprofen. You know... the same stuff we'd been shoving down your gullet for two days because we thought your fussiness was due to teething, when really it was due to THE IBUPROFEN.
Seriously. Parents. Of. The. Year.
What really sucked about the whole situation was that Grandma and Grandpa Nadolski were in town to visit and... yea, we didn't get to show off your angel-like qualities that we'd been telling everyone about. Oh well... there's always San Diego.
In other news, you now have more toys at your disposal than you know what to do with. And that Mommy keeps tripping over. But, do you know what you want to play with? The only thing that holds your attention for more than 15 seconds? Markers. Specifically, the pink marker. More specifically, the pink marker's cap that you want to take on and off and on and off and on and off... and then when you put it on and can't get it off you scream and bring it to me to take off... so that you can put it back on again.
Yep.
Since the episode with the ibuprofen, you have been an angel. I mean... seriously. An ANGEL. You are helpful around the house. You like to help me empty the new dishwasher (which I'm already planning on reminding you of when you're 15). Although, today you climbed on to the new dishwashers new door. And Mommy's brain almost exploded. Did I mention that it's NEW?
But, climbing is your thing these days. As is dancing. Not that dancing hasn't ALWAYS been your thing, but this dancing is more joyful and happy than before. Like you're finally getting how amazing it is to move your body and think that everyone else in the world is stupid for not partaking in this magic.
You've started to talk a little more. The other day, you blew my mind when I gave you some cottage cheese and you said "Thank You." You. Said. THANK YOU. While also making the sign for it. I couldn't believe it! Granted, the majority of it is jibber-jabber... and you are telling some amazing stories that I can't wait to hear about when you actually start talking... but you are picking up on and imitating words that we say. Shoes. Cheese. And... well, deuce.
Yep. It's possible that Mommy and Daddy taught you to say "deuce" when you potty #2. This happened completely innocently. You've taken to using the sign for potty whenever you... go. We've heard that this means we should start potty training you... but honestly, that sounds HARD. So, we're ignoring that advice for now. Anyway, one day you made the sign and we asked if you went #1 or #2. And I think that you like the sound of #2... and tried to repeat it. But it came out "deuce". And when we checked... YEP! DEUCE!
Babe! Come quick! Our daughter is freaking brilliant!!!! Call your parents!!!
Ah... the miracle of parenthood. Feeling pride that your daughter accidentally told you she deuced while you clean up said deuce. We may have taken this to the extreme.
(Who? US?)
I cannot believe how much you've grown in the past couple of months. Physically, mentally, emotionally... you're not a baby anymore. Sometimes I find it hard to classify you as a toddler. It seems like you grow every day and you're my little girl now. And that just breaks my heart. I can't believe how fast it's gone. And I still look back (and feel guilty) about those first few months where I was wishing you'd get just a little bit older... faster... so I wouldn't have to carry you everywhere. Or grind up your food. Or have to rock you down for an hour before you would fall asleep.
Now? Well, the only time you want me to carry you anywhere is when I'm carrying the car seat. Which is usually up the stairs at day care. You usually love to tackle the stairs. But, it's like you're trying to prove a point. And food? Forget about it. You will eat just about anything. At any time of day. And are constantly asking for more? more? more? I mean, it's cute and I adore hearing your voice... it just makes me think about the time when you were completely and totally dependent on me and couldn't just go to the pantry and pull out a box of rice and spill it on the floor while looking for crackers. And forget about me rocking you to sleep at night. That ship has sailed. I get just enough time to tell you I love you and get a kiss from you before you lean back as if to say: Alright! Bedtime, Mommy!
I do realize that this is not something I should complain about. But... you know. I miss it.
You are a great big sister to Millie. And boy, is she enthralled with you. You like to help me feed her when she's taking a bottle. And when I feed her in the morning, you don't get upset anymore and just play by yourself until we're done. You also like to give her kisses. Lots and lots of kisses. And sneezes. Lots and lots of sneezes.
I love you so much, Hazel. I can't wait until this stupid spring weather clears up so we can take you to the zoo and show you all the animals. You're old enough that I think you'll actually enjoy it. Of course, that means either Mommy or Daddy is going to wear themselves out chasing after you. You like to get out and run, that's for sure. Prior to having kids, I openly judged those parents who had their kids on leashes. I mean, how hard can it POSSIBLY BE to keep an eye on your 18 month old and keep them close to you?
Turns out? REALLY. FREAKIN'. HARD.
But, I still can't put a leash on you. Not that there haven't been days I've seriously considered it. And that's just for in our house. But, I've decided that this is part of parenting. And this is what we chose. And that this, too, shall pass. Hopefully before you manage to sneak into the ostrich pen.
Love,
Mama
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Dancing Queen
Dear Hazel,
It's been a crazy few weeks around here, and I thought I should update you on everything.
We brought your sister home from the hospital about 3 weeks ago. You weren't quite sure what to make of her. And you were teething. AND had a cold. So, to say that you were unhappy and acted out would be putting it mildly. It was a frustrating first week in the house. One which culminated with your Daddy kicking a few doors and having to regain his composure by taking a hot shower while drinking a beer.
Yep. The first week as a family of four and Millie wasn't the challenge. YOU were. Holy goodness, baby girl. Were you a terror!!! There was so much crying going on in the house that it reminded me of when you were a newborn. But it wasn't Millie crying. It was you. You wanted to be held ALL THE TIME. But you were very specific as to who you wanted to hold you. Yep... you turned into a bit of a Daddy's Girl. Which is great, but put a lot of pressure on Daddy. A few weeks later and you're still all about Daddy. But you seem to be okay with me holding you or reading you stories. So that's good.
It took just that first week for you to adjust... thank goodness. Since then, you've become very curious about our new addition and want to hold her. In fact, when we come out of the bedroom in the morning, you run up to me with your arms outstretched as if to say: My turn to hold Millie? Since your little sister is still a teeny, tiny thing, we don't let you hold her yet. But we do let you snuggle with her. Which you do first thing in the morning by putting your head next to hers, and at night right before bedtime. It's seriously the cutest thing and it melts my heart every time.
But, let's talk about everything else about you that's happened this month.
* You Can Dance!: You STILL lurve to dance. In fact, sometimes a fun jingle will come on during a commercial and I'll look over at you and you're just shaking your booty with a huge smile on your face. HILARIOUS. You've also learned some of the movements for the Hokey-Pokey and we sing it to you every once in a while before you go to bed. You get so excited when we start and the joy that lights up your face... wow, I wish I could bottle it!
* Baby Signing Time: When things are hectic in the mornings, we've taken to turning on the Baby Signing Time video to distract you from tearing up the house while we try to feed Millie and fix your breakfast. It kind of feels like cheating, but it's worked really well for us. Plus, you've gotten really good at signing certain things. Like "cracker", "water", "milk", "eat", "cereal" and the newest one "please". But all of this signing means that you're not really in a hurry to talk or communicate verbally... other than, you know, the standby whining.
* Using Your Words: While you're not talking a whole lot, you are occasionally throwing out some words that get us super excited. We'll ask you if you want to go to school and you'll say: "Yea" and head to the door. You've said other words like water, Momma, ball and nose. Just not consistently. What you do like to do consistently is make animal noises like Daddy. So far, you're a big fan of monkey sounds, but you like to try to do an elephant. Which is impressive because not even Mommy can replicate the elephant noise Daddy has made so popular around here. You can also make a buzzing sound like a bee... which I'm proud to claim I was able to teach you.
* Miss Independent: You neither want nor need to hold our hands while you're walking. And if we do the unthinkable and actually pick you up so you don't get hit by a car in the parking lot...well, it just might be the end of the world.
* Hitting: So... guess who has started to hit when she gets upset? And when she's playing? Yea... I'm kind of over THAT.
* Rough Housing: Also, guess who's a big fan of rough housing every night with Daddy??
* Diaper Duty: You are so helpful these days. (When you feel like it, that is!) After we change your diaper, you will take it and throw it in the garbage for us. You also will find Mommy's phone and bring it to her... which is much better than what you USED to do... scream when Mommy took it away from you because you were somehow purchasing apps. You also have a habit of finding THEEEE MOST OBSCURE items in the MOST obscure places (a piece of an orange peel underneath the couch) and bring it to me for inspection. I guess that's better than when you would find said item and immediately put it in your mouth.
* Cabin Fever: Since it's March now and the sun is actually out some times, you insist on going outside. And you NEVER want to come in. It's days like that that remind me of how much open space I had available to me growing up. I mean, sure... it meant that every Saturday was spent doing yard work ALL. DAY. LONG. But, it also meant that my sisters and I had a ton of space to be a kid in. Including the stream behind the house where we would spend hours making mudpies. It saddens me that we don't have that for you and that our backyard isn't exactly a kiddie playground paradise. Yet. But, we're hoping to work on it for you and your sister this summer so that you have a fun, safe place to play that doesn't require a hike to the nearest park.
* Organic Finger Painting: The whole hands down your diaper phase has morphed into a new phase... on in which you poop your pants and then wipe the poop in your hair, on your sheets and anywhere else you can think of. Short of putting you in a onesie at all times, I'm not sure how to fix this problem. Other than to teach you that it's ICKY.
* Wake Up: Remember when I used to brag that you slept until at least 7 a.m. every morning? It's like you knew how much I loved that and decided to poop on it and devastate Daddy by getting up at 6 a.m. every morning since Millie joined our family. Quite frankly, it's pure evil. I mean, I know it could be worse. I know someone who's little boy woke up at 1 a.m. the other day and stayed awake until 6... but seriously? Mommy's not that patient and when I return back to work in a few weeks, you're going to have to start waking up at 7 again. Sorry. Those are just the rules.
* Chairs: You have decided that any chair is your chair. You use your newfound climbing skills to pull yourself up on the kitchen chairs, but you also have decided that you are entitled to all chairs... even baby bouncy chairs. Which means that if Millie isn't in her bouncy chair, that it's fair game and we can usually find you laying back in it reading a book or just sucking your thumb. You also let us know it's time to eat by pulling out your high chair, bringing it to it's normal position next to the table and lifting your arms up for us to lift you into it.
* Who's The Baby?: You experienced a little bit of jealousy when Millie arrived home. You wanted to be held just like she was... all day long. And when we took the two of you for a walk and stupidly decided you would walk, rather that ride in a stroller... well, that was a rookie mistake that we won't make again as you threw a fit and had to be carried most of the way. And when you weren't being carried or throwing a fit, you insisted on pushing the stroller Millie was in. Even though you're not quite tall enough to do it by yourself . And, you know... you NEITHER WANT NOR NEED OUR HELP PUSHING, MKAY? So, that was another fit that was thrown. You've also been confiscating Milli's binkies and keeping them as your own. As well as her blankies. Luckily, you've gotten over this (for the most part), and we're trying to remember that although you're the older sister, you're not an adult yet and you're still (for the most part) a baby. A baby turning into a little girl, but a baby nonetheless.
We can't wait to see what the coming months bring. Hopefully more talking. Definitely more laughing. This is by far my favorite age.
Love,
Momma
It's been a crazy few weeks around here, and I thought I should update you on everything.
We brought your sister home from the hospital about 3 weeks ago. You weren't quite sure what to make of her. And you were teething. AND had a cold. So, to say that you were unhappy and acted out would be putting it mildly. It was a frustrating first week in the house. One which culminated with your Daddy kicking a few doors and having to regain his composure by taking a hot shower while drinking a beer.
Yep. The first week as a family of four and Millie wasn't the challenge. YOU were. Holy goodness, baby girl. Were you a terror!!! There was so much crying going on in the house that it reminded me of when you were a newborn. But it wasn't Millie crying. It was you. You wanted to be held ALL THE TIME. But you were very specific as to who you wanted to hold you. Yep... you turned into a bit of a Daddy's Girl. Which is great, but put a lot of pressure on Daddy. A few weeks later and you're still all about Daddy. But you seem to be okay with me holding you or reading you stories. So that's good.
It took just that first week for you to adjust... thank goodness. Since then, you've become very curious about our new addition and want to hold her. In fact, when we come out of the bedroom in the morning, you run up to me with your arms outstretched as if to say: My turn to hold Millie? Since your little sister is still a teeny, tiny thing, we don't let you hold her yet. But we do let you snuggle with her. Which you do first thing in the morning by putting your head next to hers, and at night right before bedtime. It's seriously the cutest thing and it melts my heart every time.
But, let's talk about everything else about you that's happened this month.
* You Can Dance!: You STILL lurve to dance. In fact, sometimes a fun jingle will come on during a commercial and I'll look over at you and you're just shaking your booty with a huge smile on your face. HILARIOUS. You've also learned some of the movements for the Hokey-Pokey and we sing it to you every once in a while before you go to bed. You get so excited when we start and the joy that lights up your face... wow, I wish I could bottle it!
* Baby Signing Time: When things are hectic in the mornings, we've taken to turning on the Baby Signing Time video to distract you from tearing up the house while we try to feed Millie and fix your breakfast. It kind of feels like cheating, but it's worked really well for us. Plus, you've gotten really good at signing certain things. Like "cracker", "water", "milk", "eat", "cereal" and the newest one "please". But all of this signing means that you're not really in a hurry to talk or communicate verbally... other than, you know, the standby whining.
* Using Your Words: While you're not talking a whole lot, you are occasionally throwing out some words that get us super excited. We'll ask you if you want to go to school and you'll say: "Yea" and head to the door. You've said other words like water, Momma, ball and nose. Just not consistently. What you do like to do consistently is make animal noises like Daddy. So far, you're a big fan of monkey sounds, but you like to try to do an elephant. Which is impressive because not even Mommy can replicate the elephant noise Daddy has made so popular around here. You can also make a buzzing sound like a bee... which I'm proud to claim I was able to teach you.
* Miss Independent: You neither want nor need to hold our hands while you're walking. And if we do the unthinkable and actually pick you up so you don't get hit by a car in the parking lot...well, it just might be the end of the world.
* Hitting: So... guess who has started to hit when she gets upset? And when she's playing? Yea... I'm kind of over THAT.
* Rough Housing: Also, guess who's a big fan of rough housing every night with Daddy??
* Diaper Duty: You are so helpful these days. (When you feel like it, that is!) After we change your diaper, you will take it and throw it in the garbage for us. You also will find Mommy's phone and bring it to her... which is much better than what you USED to do... scream when Mommy took it away from you because you were somehow purchasing apps. You also have a habit of finding THEEEE MOST OBSCURE items in the MOST obscure places (a piece of an orange peel underneath the couch) and bring it to me for inspection. I guess that's better than when you would find said item and immediately put it in your mouth.
* Cabin Fever: Since it's March now and the sun is actually out some times, you insist on going outside. And you NEVER want to come in. It's days like that that remind me of how much open space I had available to me growing up. I mean, sure... it meant that every Saturday was spent doing yard work ALL. DAY. LONG. But, it also meant that my sisters and I had a ton of space to be a kid in. Including the stream behind the house where we would spend hours making mudpies. It saddens me that we don't have that for you and that our backyard isn't exactly a kiddie playground paradise. Yet. But, we're hoping to work on it for you and your sister this summer so that you have a fun, safe place to play that doesn't require a hike to the nearest park.
* Organic Finger Painting: The whole hands down your diaper phase has morphed into a new phase... on in which you poop your pants and then wipe the poop in your hair, on your sheets and anywhere else you can think of. Short of putting you in a onesie at all times, I'm not sure how to fix this problem. Other than to teach you that it's ICKY.
* Wake Up: Remember when I used to brag that you slept until at least 7 a.m. every morning? It's like you knew how much I loved that and decided to poop on it and devastate Daddy by getting up at 6 a.m. every morning since Millie joined our family. Quite frankly, it's pure evil. I mean, I know it could be worse. I know someone who's little boy woke up at 1 a.m. the other day and stayed awake until 6... but seriously? Mommy's not that patient and when I return back to work in a few weeks, you're going to have to start waking up at 7 again. Sorry. Those are just the rules.
* Chairs: You have decided that any chair is your chair. You use your newfound climbing skills to pull yourself up on the kitchen chairs, but you also have decided that you are entitled to all chairs... even baby bouncy chairs. Which means that if Millie isn't in her bouncy chair, that it's fair game and we can usually find you laying back in it reading a book or just sucking your thumb. You also let us know it's time to eat by pulling out your high chair, bringing it to it's normal position next to the table and lifting your arms up for us to lift you into it.
* Who's The Baby?: You experienced a little bit of jealousy when Millie arrived home. You wanted to be held just like she was... all day long. And when we took the two of you for a walk and stupidly decided you would walk, rather that ride in a stroller... well, that was a rookie mistake that we won't make again as you threw a fit and had to be carried most of the way. And when you weren't being carried or throwing a fit, you insisted on pushing the stroller Millie was in. Even though you're not quite tall enough to do it by yourself . And, you know... you NEITHER WANT NOR NEED OUR HELP PUSHING, MKAY? So, that was another fit that was thrown. You've also been confiscating Milli's binkies and keeping them as your own. As well as her blankies. Luckily, you've gotten over this (for the most part), and we're trying to remember that although you're the older sister, you're not an adult yet and you're still (for the most part) a baby. A baby turning into a little girl, but a baby nonetheless.
We can't wait to see what the coming months bring. Hopefully more talking. Definitely more laughing. This is by far my favorite age.
Love,
Momma
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Party Of 4
Dear Hazel,
Tonight is your last night as an only child. We spent the night playing and snuggling. I can't help but get a little teary-eyed and nostalgic when I think about how much your life is going to change and how hard it's going to be for you to adjust.
Please know that when we had you, we always knew that we wanted you to have a brother or sister. It's not that you weren't enough for our family. It's that we love you so much we wanted you to have a sibling. And we loved that sibling so much (even before we met them) that we knew the best gift we could give her was an older sister like you.
In short, the two of you will complete our family. We will soon be a family of four. And you will soon be a Big Sister. With all of the responsibilities that come with being the oldest. Yea... I'm sorry about THAT part. I know all too well what it's like to be the oldest... what it's like to be the guinea pig. But, I think that you've got the character to handle it.
I hope that this change in your world doesn't cause too much stress for you. And I hope that you love your little sister as much as we love you. And I hope that the two of you will be best friends and that our little family will be as happy with two as we are with just you!
Thank you for being such a sweet little girl that we decided we wanted to risk our sanity and have another one.
Please never forget that we love you and always will.
Tonight is your last night as an only child. We spent the night playing and snuggling. I can't help but get a little teary-eyed and nostalgic when I think about how much your life is going to change and how hard it's going to be for you to adjust.
Please know that when we had you, we always knew that we wanted you to have a brother or sister. It's not that you weren't enough for our family. It's that we love you so much we wanted you to have a sibling. And we loved that sibling so much (even before we met them) that we knew the best gift we could give her was an older sister like you.
In short, the two of you will complete our family. We will soon be a family of four. And you will soon be a Big Sister. With all of the responsibilities that come with being the oldest. Yea... I'm sorry about THAT part. I know all too well what it's like to be the oldest... what it's like to be the guinea pig. But, I think that you've got the character to handle it.
I hope that this change in your world doesn't cause too much stress for you. And I hope that you love your little sister as much as we love you. And I hope that the two of you will be best friends and that our little family will be as happy with two as we are with just you!
Thank you for being such a sweet little girl that we decided we wanted to risk our sanity and have another one.
Please never forget that we love you and always will.
Our last night as a family of three.
February 20, 2011
Love,
Mama
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