Mother Of The Year

Dear Vomit-Machine,

(Or should we call you Poop Bucket?)

So... guess who got a touch of the stomach flu this weekend? That was fun.

Actually, to be completely honest, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Considering that you and I left Daddy at home for the weekend so that we could drive up to the farm to see Grandma and Grandpa and I could go to my 15-year reunion before you and I drove back down to Provo to go to a reception... which made the weekend really, REALLY long.

And considering that you had projectile vomit Friday night at the farm.... (We can only thank our stars that we were outside on the grass, which made for an easy clean up!) But, being the Mother of the Year, I figured it was a one-time occurance and shouldn't be a problem for the rest of the trip. That night, when I woke to the smell of rancid diharrea and had to wrangle you while you were still asleep so that I could change one of the most toxic diapers I've ever seen, I figured that you'd probably got the last of the evil out of your system.

WRONG AGAIN.

And considering that during the trip, I ended up with a broken down car that left me having to borrow Grandpa and Grandma's car to make the trip to Provo... and considering that apparently my prego brain is working overtime right now and I managed to run out of gas.....

On the freeway.

In the rain.

Because I tried to make it from Preston to Provo on a 1/2 tank of gas.

Cuz your Mommy's a rock star that way.

I mean, really... WHO RUNS OUT OF GAS. More specifically, who hears a beeping noise, wonders what it is, then assumes that it must just be a malfunctioning seat belt alarm AND CONTINUES TO DRIVE?

Also, considering that once I was able to cross FOUR lanes of traffic with my hazards flashing as the tires slowed down their rotation and was able to make it to the last exit ramp for a few miles, I discovered that you had a nasty case of the trots... and you had leaked that all over your car seat.....

And, considering that any number of weirdos could have stopped to offer "help", we ended up being helped by a nice man and woman in University of Utah shirts who got me some gas. In the rain, mind you... and refused to take any money? Seriously. I swear it's gotta be your cute little face that did it. Me alone? I would have been hoofing it to get the gas for sure....

And, considering that you had a pretty tough night that night in the hotel room and threw up all over your bed and spent the night in bed with me... which meant that Mommy slept zip, zilch, nada... because you're such a squirmer when you sleep that I was worried if I didn't stay awake (or at least partly awake) you'd squirm right over the edge....

And, not that THAT would have really made a difference because the following day when you and I finally made it home and you had yet ANOTHER runny diaper and you somehow managed to stick your foot in the poop... I broke a cardinal rule and while I was putting the diaper in the bucket, didn't have my hand on you. And the next thing I know, I felt like something wasn't right in the atmosphere and turned just in time to see you land on the floor after rolling off the table.

And one of my nightmares just came true. AWESOME.

Yep... that's me, Mother of the Year.

Luckily, you weren't hurt. Just scared. Nothing a little snuggling couldn't fix. And, hey... if that snuggling turns into an hour nap for you and me? I'M NOT COMPLAINING.

When Daddy finally got home from his volunteer activities that day, I asked if he could watch you while I took a nap. A THREE. HOUR. NAP.

But, it turns out that I wasn't the only one who needed one because when I got up? Guess who ELSE had been asleep for three hours? Apparently, the weekend had taken a toll on you, too.

But it sure was fun. In fact, we took some pics to document the fun-age.

You got to help feed 17 geese. Seriously, 17 geese?
Grandma and Grandpa need a new hobby.

And you got to take your first ride with Grandpa on the four-wheeler.

You got to rock in Mommy's old rocking chair from when
she was your age... or maybe a bit older. Same size, though!

You got to hang out (and throw up) in Grandma and Grandpa's awesome yard.

You got to meet your cousin Grayson... who, I think might
have been a little taken aback by the tornado that is Hazel.

And you went to your first luau in your very own mumu, thanks to Aunt Carol.

Yep... it was quite the event filled weekend.

The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to figure out a way to withdraw my nomination for Mother of the Year. I got up before you, got showered, dressed and ate breakfast all before you woke up. Then, I got you changed and fed and we had a little snuggle time before it was time to go to school.

School. There's something about that word that I think makes you nauseous because when I asked you if you were ready for school? Up came EVERYTHING you'd eaten that morning and the night before. And it kept coming. And coming. And COMING. You even buried your face in my chest as it came, which meant that it was all over your face, in your eyes, in your ears.

I gotta tell you... I wasn't really sure how exactly to clean up the mess. You were covered. I was covered. The couch was covered. So, we took a trip to the shower and decided that today, you and I would be staying home.

I think, though... getting that last throw-up out of the way really made you feel better because you've been fine ever since. Sure, sure... right now, all you really want is the bottle and have declared a moratorium on anything resembling solid foods unless it's a banana, but I'm hopeful that once your tummy starts feeling better, that will change. The good news is that I think that the yogurt I've been sneaking into your bottle is helping with your tummy... something about the probiotics calming it down? At least, that's what the doc recommended. But, he also said that you're not the hugest baby he's ever seen... so it's possible he's crazy.

In other news, you go in for your ear tubes on Monday. I don't know whether to be excited or scared for you.

Excited because, YAY! No more ear infections we have to treat with antibiotics!

Scared because THEY'RE CUTTING A HOLE IN YOUR EAR DRUM!

I think this is our best option as the ENT said that you're hearing is a bit compromised now and that you're ripe for another ear infection given the fluid in your ears. I wonder if they'll let me be in the room with you when they put you under?

I'll let you know how it goes. Although, if you're actually reading this when you're older, you probably already know by now!

Love,
Mama

Nine Month Update

Dear Birdzo Butts,
It's been a while since I've written, but I'm hoping you'll forgive me. This last month has been.... WOW. Crazy. Like pink elephants, crazy. But not the kind you get from drinking a little too much at the circus. Rather, the kind where you throw up your hands and exclaim: Really? Pink elephants? IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, WORLD?

And because of the craziness, I haven't posted about your first trip to the beach! But, it's coming. I promise. Eventually. Hopefully by your second trip to the beach next year.

But, let's get over the fact that Mommy's a bit of a procrastinator these days and talk instead about what a magical month this last month has been, mkay?

First and foremost, the biggest event of the past month? GUESS WHO HAS BECOME MOBILE??? That's right, on July 11th, you took your first crawl. And we've been screwed ever since!!! Seriously... it's like you've discovered this whole new world that you haven't been a part of for the last 8 months and MUST DISCOVER EVERY. SINGLE. NOOK. AND. CRANNY. OF. IT. All before you go to bed each night. Every day blows your mind and I'm not confident that you're not just a teeny bit upset with us that we've been keeping this newfound world from you. I'm telling you, once you found your so-called legs? Nothing can contain you! Overnight, our perfect, adult-styled house had to be completely childproofed so that the Hazel Bird wouldn't be able to stick her fingers in the sockets, or pull the bookcases down on top of herself.

It's like you know when there's something in the vicinity that you're NOT supposed to play with... and that's the thing that you hone in on. I mean, why bother playing with all the toys that Mommy and Daddy got for you when you can lick Daddy's flip-flops? Or tear apart Mommy's magazine? Or strangle yourself on our blind cords? Or slobber all over my cell phone?

You've also discovered the wonder that is opening and closing doors and drawers. So, before we were finally able to childproof the drawers and doors, you were under constant supervision in the kitchen. And man... do you LOVES you some drawers. Especially the ones with the towels in them. I know I'll rue the day when you figure out the drawer on the oven.

Sidenote: Honestly... it's taking your Daddy and I a lot longer than we expected to get used to the new baby-proofedness of our house. Every morning, we forget that drawers and doors have been "fixed" and what you hear is an attempt at opening a drawer, followed by a under-the-breath "damn!". If it wasn't so pathetic - because this is our life for the next couple of years - it would be funny.

Daddy also had to put up a gate by the stairs... which you are already trying to break down. Why? Because CLEARLY we don't want you there. Therefore... YOU. MUST. BE. THERE.

I think that your new mobility is wreaking havoc on your sleep schedule. You used to be a great little sleeper at night. We could put you down, almost wide-awake, and you'd roll over to your side, stick in your thumby and it was night-night. FOR 12 HOURS. Now? Well, you refuse to go to bed unless you've been up for at least four hours. And then, when we do get you down, you wake up after 45 minutes and we have to go in and rock you back down. We're a little concerned that you're about to the stage where we're going to have to let you cry it out. I was hoping to avoid that stage all together. But it appears that your newfound freedom has given you a bit of an... attitude. I HATE listening to your cries, Birdy. It's the single-most awful sound in the world. Even worse? Someone has taken up the new routine of bagging her head against the bars in the crib. And either you have a high pain tolerance... OR you simply don't learn. Because after one night of letting you cry it out for 5 minutes? The next morning, you had three bruises on your beautiful little head. Not that it seems to bother you too much... but it bothers the hell out of me!

You've also started a new thing where you wake up at 3ish in the morning and we have to run in and pat your back until you go back to sleep. So that in an hour, you can wake up again and need to have your back patted to go back down. And lather, rinse, REPEAT. So, your Daddy and I have been taking turns spending the early, EARLY morning hours asleep in your room. So... that's fun.

This month has also brought new additions to your diet. Your normal breakfast these days is a bowl of oatmeal cereal, a whole banana and a piece of toast.

Couple of things that need to be mentioned here:

- The oatmeal cereal. So, most babies are on rice cereal. You, apparently need more fiber than the rice cereal provides. Because you, my dear, have had full formed turds greet me when I change your diaper. In fact, I've taken to naming them since a couple of them have even had faces. But, the most prevalent poopy in the block is Hanky. He comes out with a Santa Claus hat on and jumps around everywhere saying "Howdy, Ho!". (Yea... you can take the girl out of college, but you can't take the college out of the girl! And I'll explain that one to you when you're about 18.)

- The toast? DON'T MESS WITH THE TOAST. You love, love, LOVE toast and if I have to take it away from you for any reason... like to give you your milk? HEADS. WILL. ROLL.

You pretty much eat anything these days. Interestingly enough, you're not a big fan of yogurt. Or cottage cheese. I don't know if it's the cold or the actual taste, but you're just not down with it and I usually end up with yogurt spit out all over the high chair.

Also this month, you came down with a weird case of pneumonia. In July. Really? Really. That was fun. I have never heard such a horrible, horrible cough. It sounded like a 60-year-old smokers cough and you had absolute fits with it. It was awful, but you pulled through. It only took one day of antibiotics for you to show some improvement. But, man... I hate that you've been on antibiotics so much!

Not that it's been affecting you in any way. You're still growing like a weed. In short, you're HUGE. Not fat, just long. You currently fit in 12-18 month old clothes and I just can't keep up with the new clothes you constantly need.

You've also discovered the joy that is playing ball. You love, love, LOVE playing with the ball. And since you've become mobile, you're able to throw the ball across the room and then crawl to it... so that you can throw in back across the room. You also like to throw the ball to Mommy and Daddy and provide us hours and hours of fun.



You also are a big, BIG fan of animals. Any animals. Especially cats. Whenever I take you outside to put you in the car and you see Nytro, you start screeching like a piglet. It's adorable. It's even more adorable that when I put you down to let you pet the kitty while she's eating, you just stick your hands out, but refuse to touch her. But the squeal is ever present and ever hilarious.

To celebrate your 9-month birthday, we went downtown at the Pioneer Day Parade, so that you could squeal at the horses, and then the Farmer's Market before we headed to some friends house for Pie-N-Beer Day. You were so excited to see so many kids at the party and I know you can't wait to start walking so you can keep up with them.



Oh... and another new thing you've taken to this month. You loves you some of Mommy's hair. I'm holding off on the prediction that you're bound to be stylist. But I'm still holding out hope that you'll be able to do your hair better than Mommy has ever been able to do her hair. Cuz if not... we're gonna have some problems in your teens!


Some other big news during your ninth month of life: You're gonna be a big sister! I told your Daddy on Father's Day, while you were chewing on his Father's Day card. It wasn't exactly a memorable moment for you, but I think your Daddy will remember it the rest of his life.



So, your little brother or sister will be here around February 19th. Which means that you'll be approximately 16 months apart. Which, in turn, means that Mommy and Daddy aren't going to get any sleep for the next year. Please be patient with us, though! It'll all be worth it once you have a baby to play with!

Love,
Mama

Eight Month Update

Dear Birdzo-Butt,
Yep. That's what we call you these days. Not for any particular reason other than to mix things up a bit from calling you The Bird and Chunky Butt. Not that you're particular chunky. And not that I'm trying to give you a complex at a young age about the size of your adorable bubble-butt... but it's just so darn cute that we feel that we must incorporate it into one of your many nicknames.

Actually, we've been trying to call you by your given name of Hazel (sometimes with a Hazel-Bird thrown in there for good measure) because you're at that age where you're recognizing your name. And that, my dear, is completely awesome. But it's still hard for us to call you Hazel instead of Birdzo Butt. Because, when you get right down to it? I would have killed for a nickname like Birdzo Butt when I was a kid. Instead, I got stuck with names like Pencil Legs and Giraffe. Not very creative. Granted, this was when I was much older and not required to wear a bib at every feeding (as you are) because as much as I (you) liked to swallow my food, I (you) REALLY enjoyed spitting it out all over Mommy and Daddy. Ahem.

So, this month has been exciting. Really exciting. Like three ear infections in 30 days exciting. Yep. It's been that much fun. But through it all, you've been a total champ. You're still the happiest little girl at school and your face absolutely lights up when either your Daddy or I walk in to any room. There's nothing quite so ego-boosting and day-brightening than having your baby's face break into a beautiful smile at just the sight of you.

We had a get you a new car seat last month because you clocked in a 29.75 inches at one of your doctor's appointments (for another ear infection) and your carrier maxes out at 30 inches. So, on our anniversary, your Daddy and I decided to celebrate by buying a new car seat. When we walked out of Babies-R-Us an hour later, we were both reeling from sticker shock. HOLY COW that was an expensive anniversary gift.

You weren't so much a fan of your new car seat, and quite frankly... neither were we. I'd gotten pretty good at being mobile with you in your infant carrier. I could make a quick stop at Papa Murphy's, grab the carrier, run in, pay for the pizza, balance the pizza on one hand and the carrier on my other arm, manage to open the door, plop the carrier back in and start the car... all in less than 2 minutes.

Now? Well, now it takes me about 90 seconds to even get you out of the seat and then I have to carry you. And at 22 pounds and curious about the world around you? It's like carrying a 22 pound water balloon that's leaking all over my shoulder. Not the easiest thing in the world. And that's not the bad part. The bad part is getting you back in the seat because somewhere between taking you out of the seat and putting you back in the seat you have developed a massive phobia of the seat and O.M.G.... IT'S TRYING TO KILL YOU! It takes me at least 3 minutes to get you back in the seat and buckled up correctly. On a positive note, you've really got the arched-back thing down to a science.

I've actually bypassed a quick stop at the store for something because I don't want to deal with getting you out of your seat. It's that bad. So that's been fun. We're having to adjust our seat paradigm to get used to the new mode of transportation with you. As time goes on, you seem to be doing better and better with it. But you still have your moments. Nothing that a rattle can't take care of. But heaven help Mommy if the rattle is lost. Heads roll.

You're getting sooooo close to crawling. Your Daddy and I can't decide whether to be excited... or terrified. Because the house? NO WHERE CLOSE TO BEING CHILD PROOF. You're just so close, though, and we keep hoping that today will be the day that you finally put it all together and figure out how to move your legs and arms at the same time. Daddy also wants me to tell you that you clearly did not inherit your upper body strength from me. You are super strong and there are times when I almost hand you the jar of baby food to open the lid for me. But, hey... you got my butt. So, I've done my share.

Speaking of food, you are eating a TON of it. You're particularly enamored with sweet potatoes, squash and blueberries. Not so much peaches. I've seen you do full-body shivers several times now. And 90% of the time, it's right after your first taste of peaches. Not a fan.

Things have finally warmed up in Utah and you're discovering all sorts of cool things like the sun, grass and... naked time. Yes. You loves you some naked time. And apparently, Mommy and Daddy need to let you be naked more often because Holy Cow! Is this me? Is this what I look like underneath all those cute outfits? LOOK AT MY AWESOME BODY!!!



Uncle Ryan and Aunt Kaylene hooked you up with an awesome toy the other day and you love to play with it and see how the different shapes move. You've also started to pull it down on top of you... I guess to inspect how it works?

You also scored a couple of toys from Goodwill. Because Mommy cannot stand buying another $20 toy that you lose interest in as soon as you see a piece of paper... or a blade of grass. And surprisingly, the $1 toys from Goodwill? They manage to keep your attention. Your favorite toy teaches you about cause and effect and you love hitting the buttons to get the little animals to pop up. It helps that whenever you are able to get one of the animals to pop up, Mommy and Daddy got nutso and exclamations of "Yay! Hazel!" followed by insane clapping is regularly heard in the house.

Mommy also invested a whole 85 cents on a bouncy ball that you love, love, LOVE. We're not sure if it's the color that has you fascinated, or the bounciness of it... but you're a big, big fan.



You're also a big fan of dropping your toys from the high chair, and then watching as Mommy picks them back up for you. So that you can drop it again. Like I said, you're a big fan of cause and effect.

You're still sleeping 11-12 hours a night. Although you're taking just two 40 minute naps a day. You don't really want to have anything to do with naps while you're at school, so sometimes by the time I pick you up at night, you'll have been awake for five hours and are fading fast. The weekends are a lot better because we take the time to rock you down for your nap... but I guess at school, they just don't have the manpower for that.

What's really cool is that you know that for either a nap or bedtime, when we go into your room and shut the blinds, close the door and turn off the lights... it's time to sleep. And you snuggle up underneath our chin, stick your thumb in your mouth and just doze off. Sometimes you struggle... but when you do that, I just put you in your crib and pat your back until you fall asleep. You love your room and you know what you're supposed to do in there. It's all very magical.

We usually try to have you in bed by 7 p.m., but last month, we decided to take you to SLC with us to see some friends. We figured that you would fall asleep around 7ish and we could just put you in one of the bedrooms while we stayed up and chatted with our friends. Yeeaaa... that was the plan. But you had different plans and stayed up until 8. And even after we got you to sleep and put you in the room, you kept waking up. Probably because you knew that there were some shananigans going on outside and you wanted to be a part of it. In short, you RALLIED.

Last month, you started waking up every weekday at about 8 a.m. Which was awesome. But on the weekends? 6 sharp. We need to work on this, sweetie pie. You've got your days mixed up. Mommy can't do 6 a.m. weekends. She can barely do 7 a.m. weekends.

Last month, you got to go watch Daddy compete in his very first triathlon since you came into our lives. You and I had a good time at Willard Bay waiting for your Daddy to finish. I must say that spectating a triathlon with a kid is a lot different than spectating by yourself. But we made some new friends and did a little bird watching while your Daddy beat himself up in a race that he hadn't trained for and still managed second place in his age division.

And finally, last week, you managed to pop in your top two front teeth. At the same time. With only a little fussiness. With this new development, I know I should probably start giving you new foods to experiment with. Your doc gave the go-ahead.... but I just can't do it. I mean... what if you choke? I haven't had my baby first aid training yet. And the other night when your Daddy and I experimented with giving you some yogurt to help with the thrush in your mouth from the antibiotics? You gagged on a blueberry and Daddy immediately went into his training and took you out of the high chair, held you upside down and started pounding your back. Which I think freaked you out even more than the blueberry. I know it freaked ME out. I've started to give you rice-puff cereal snacks. But go figure... the one thing that you DON'T put in your mouth? Completely edible.

We are so blessed and happy that you are a part of our lives Hazel. You make every day better with your smile and your spirit. Even when you wake up earlier than Mommy was hoping for, when I walk into your room and see you smiling at me from your crib... my heart melts. I can't wait to see you every morning because of it.

Love,
Mama