Not too long ago (a month or so) you were waking up, so I came to get you out of your crib (yes, you still sleep in a crib) and I asked you the question I ask every morning. I asked you, "What did you dream about?" You almost always give the same answer. You say "bears." And I say, "And what were the bears doing?" You almost always answer, "Dancing."
I give this as background because I am pretty sure that you don't always dream of dancing bears. I think you most likely have different dreams every night, and that either A) You don't remember them or B) You don't know what the heck I am talking about. I mean, really, think about it, a dream is a pretty hard concept to wrap your head around when you are 2. And it's pretty hard to explain to a 2-year-old what a dream is.
So, a month ago when I came to get you out of your crib, I asked you the usual question. And this is how you answered, "Mommy, I didn't have any dreams because you took them and you threw them on the floor." In a very matter-of-fact, not really-upset-with-me kind of way. And my first thought was, "This is at age 2, what the hell am I in for at 13?"
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
I decided I am going to try to write more often and whenever the urge strikes, even if it isn't directly related to you.
First of all, I am making a promise to myself. Recently a few friends had birthdays. They are friends that I don't get to see all that often, and I mostly keep up with them via email or Facebook. When their birthdays came, I noticed that it was their birthdays because of Facebook and posted a happy birthday message. This last week I have been thinking a lot about that and I hereby promise to myself to call my friends (not all my Facebook "friends", the people I haven't really thought about since h.s. or college) to chat with them, or at least to leave them a message telling them happy birthday. It's important, it matters to people who love you to hear your voice, and I am embarrassed that I even lost sight of that for a moment.
Second, okay, where do I start? A few weeks ago Grandpa Glen and you and I were taking a nice long walk. As we were walking, we came across a few kids who were playing in front of an apartment complex. One of the kids, a girl, about 6 or 7 apparently got hurt, because she was sobbing pretty loudly. It really hit me in the chest being a mommy and all. At first I wanted to go over to her and ask if she was okay and could I help her get home. But then I thought if I did that, it would probably freak her out and she would think I was trying to abduct her and she'd get more upset than she already was and that her friends would probably take her home or help her feel better. And then I kept walking as I heard her wailing. It haunts me. I am sure she was fine, she probably scraped her knee or something. But how could I, a mother, who was with my child (so, probably not threatening at all) walk away from another child who was clearly in pain. I vowed to myself that night that I would never do that again. And not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of that mistake I made.
So last night I was driving home from work and while I was at a red light I looked over and saw an old man sitting on the sidewalk. At first I thought he was some homeless guy. It wasn't that cold, and it was near where New Hampshire Ave. hits Georgia Ave., so it wouldn't be odd at all for a homeless guy to be sitting there. But then I looked closer. His hand were all bloody and his face was too. And he had a very distant blank look on his face. There was no one near him. So I knew I had to pull over. I rolled down my window and asked if he needed help. He asked if I had a tissue. I told him I didn't, but that I had tissue paper (leftover from a baby shower gift), so I got out of the car, grabbed the paper from the back seat and ran over to him. He dabbed himself. I asked if I could help him get up. He said yes, thank you. I picked up his bags (he had a bag of record albums and a wooden rabbit), and offered my hand to him. That was when he slumped back down to the ground and moaned and said he thought his arm was broken. I told him I thought he should go to the hospital, that I wanted to call 911. He thought about it for a moment and agreed. So I called. I waited with him, I chatted with him to try to get his mind off of things. I dabbed blood off of him, and kind of dabbed off a big chunk of bloody skin from going into his eyes. He was pretty sure he had tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. Then the paramedics came. I made sure they got him on the stretcher and that they grabbed his stuff, and they wheeled him off into the ambulance. I never asked him his name. I didn't offer to go to the hospital with him to keep him company. I wish that I had asked him if there was anyone I could call to let them know where he was (he didn't have a cell phone). In a weird way I think I had assumed this man was alone. Maybe he was. Or maybe I assumed it because he was old. And I keep thinking, he was once someone's little boy and now he is this sad old man who fell down on the sidewalk while he was walking home. How sad. It makes me sad because as much as I want you to know that I am here for you, I won't always be, and you will be old one day yourself. I can't assume that the man made any bad choices in his life, he might have and he might have not, but I hope that I give you all the foundation you need to be certain you are loved and cared for throughout your entire life. And I will never walk by or drive by a person in need again. And from now on I will ask them if they want me to call/find someone in their lives. And I hope that if I or you or anyone we know is ever in need of help, that someone will stop and at the very least help us, even if it is just by dialing 911. It's not heroic, or even extraordinary, it's the most basic thing a person can do, and yet many don't these days. I will no longer be that person.
First of all, I am making a promise to myself. Recently a few friends had birthdays. They are friends that I don't get to see all that often, and I mostly keep up with them via email or Facebook. When their birthdays came, I noticed that it was their birthdays because of Facebook and posted a happy birthday message. This last week I have been thinking a lot about that and I hereby promise to myself to call my friends (not all my Facebook "friends", the people I haven't really thought about since h.s. or college) to chat with them, or at least to leave them a message telling them happy birthday. It's important, it matters to people who love you to hear your voice, and I am embarrassed that I even lost sight of that for a moment.
Second, okay, where do I start? A few weeks ago Grandpa Glen and you and I were taking a nice long walk. As we were walking, we came across a few kids who were playing in front of an apartment complex. One of the kids, a girl, about 6 or 7 apparently got hurt, because she was sobbing pretty loudly. It really hit me in the chest being a mommy and all. At first I wanted to go over to her and ask if she was okay and could I help her get home. But then I thought if I did that, it would probably freak her out and she would think I was trying to abduct her and she'd get more upset than she already was and that her friends would probably take her home or help her feel better. And then I kept walking as I heard her wailing. It haunts me. I am sure she was fine, she probably scraped her knee or something. But how could I, a mother, who was with my child (so, probably not threatening at all) walk away from another child who was clearly in pain. I vowed to myself that night that I would never do that again. And not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of that mistake I made.
So last night I was driving home from work and while I was at a red light I looked over and saw an old man sitting on the sidewalk. At first I thought he was some homeless guy. It wasn't that cold, and it was near where New Hampshire Ave. hits Georgia Ave., so it wouldn't be odd at all for a homeless guy to be sitting there. But then I looked closer. His hand were all bloody and his face was too. And he had a very distant blank look on his face. There was no one near him. So I knew I had to pull over. I rolled down my window and asked if he needed help. He asked if I had a tissue. I told him I didn't, but that I had tissue paper (leftover from a baby shower gift), so I got out of the car, grabbed the paper from the back seat and ran over to him. He dabbed himself. I asked if I could help him get up. He said yes, thank you. I picked up his bags (he had a bag of record albums and a wooden rabbit), and offered my hand to him. That was when he slumped back down to the ground and moaned and said he thought his arm was broken. I told him I thought he should go to the hospital, that I wanted to call 911. He thought about it for a moment and agreed. So I called. I waited with him, I chatted with him to try to get his mind off of things. I dabbed blood off of him, and kind of dabbed off a big chunk of bloody skin from going into his eyes. He was pretty sure he had tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. Then the paramedics came. I made sure they got him on the stretcher and that they grabbed his stuff, and they wheeled him off into the ambulance. I never asked him his name. I didn't offer to go to the hospital with him to keep him company. I wish that I had asked him if there was anyone I could call to let them know where he was (he didn't have a cell phone). In a weird way I think I had assumed this man was alone. Maybe he was. Or maybe I assumed it because he was old. And I keep thinking, he was once someone's little boy and now he is this sad old man who fell down on the sidewalk while he was walking home. How sad. It makes me sad because as much as I want you to know that I am here for you, I won't always be, and you will be old one day yourself. I can't assume that the man made any bad choices in his life, he might have and he might have not, but I hope that I give you all the foundation you need to be certain you are loved and cared for throughout your entire life. And I will never walk by or drive by a person in need again. And from now on I will ask them if they want me to call/find someone in their lives. And I hope that if I or you or anyone we know is ever in need of help, that someone will stop and at the very least help us, even if it is just by dialing 911. It's not heroic, or even extraordinary, it's the most basic thing a person can do, and yet many don't these days. I will no longer be that person.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Last Few Months
In the last few months, many things have been going on in our lives, most notably, you turned two!!!!! We were at the beach with your family (grandma and grandpa Lyons, aunt Jenn and uncle Jeff, and Van and Griffen, and of course, mommy and daddy). The weather wasn't great, but you certainly made the most of it. You really had a lot of fun playing with your cousins Van and Griff (6 and 4 years old). You told them where to sit and what to play and sometimes they listened to you and other times they didn't. And when they didn't, you did what they wanted to do, or at least tried to and laughed and had a very fun time of it. You are such a smart independent little thing, I am just so impressed by you.
I think a lot of being a mom means being introspective about not just you and your life but also my own life. I wouldn't say that I compare you to myself, but I like to look at your traits and to try to figure out where they come from. Some come from your daddy and from me, but others are all your own. Your confidence and your independent nature seem to me to be your very own thing, and I am thrilled that you have those two traits. I have always been much more of a pleaser, and I think your dad is too, although not as much as I am, and sure, it's nice to make people happy, but it's better to do what you want to do just because you want to do it! Of course, I want you to do things that aren't dangerous but I also want you to learn things for yourself, because that is the only way to really learn. And you seem to have no trouble doing that so far. I am so proud of you.
I think a lot of being a mom means being introspective about not just you and your life but also my own life. I wouldn't say that I compare you to myself, but I like to look at your traits and to try to figure out where they come from. Some come from your daddy and from me, but others are all your own. Your confidence and your independent nature seem to me to be your very own thing, and I am thrilled that you have those two traits. I have always been much more of a pleaser, and I think your dad is too, although not as much as I am, and sure, it's nice to make people happy, but it's better to do what you want to do just because you want to do it! Of course, I want you to do things that aren't dangerous but I also want you to learn things for yourself, because that is the only way to really learn. And you seem to have no trouble doing that so far. I am so proud of you.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Months 21 and 22
I was going to try to fake it to make it look like I posted the last few months so that when you are older and you look back you wouldn't think I was a slacker or that I didn't care enough. Well, I am a bit of a slacker, but I certainly care a ton, so don't ever think that. We have been very busy the last few months, so let me tell you all about it. I am also just super bad at being dishonest, so I knew I would never get away with it, and I would feel bad, and I so enjoy writing these postings, that I didn't want to put any bad mojo into the mix.
Your transition from a baby to a little girl has become even more apparent the last couple of months. Your language skills have developed by leaps and bounds. You now speak mostly in sentences, be it very short ones, but you understand almost all that we say. Sometimes it's a bit of a shocker to your daddy and I that you understand precisely what is going on. We have really drilled into your head that you need to be careful about how hot your food is before you put it in your mouth. You are pretty diligent about blowing on your food before you eat it, and always ask us if something is hot. Sometimes when things aren't hot, you are so careful that you ask a few times and still blow on your food. At those times, Daddy always says to you, "Actually, it's not hot, it's warm." So, the other day Daddy sat down to eat with you and you said/asked if your food was hot. And then before he had time to answer you said, "Actually, it's not hot, it's warm." It's a pretty amazing funny thing to hear come out of your mouth, because most sentences sound like this: "Vivi go out?", "I'M COMING!!!!!", "Vivi down", "I want MORE!"
Speaking of wanting more, we went on vacation to your grandparents' place in Vermont at the beginning of July. Something magical happened there that transitioned you from The Baby We Plead With to Eat to the Little Girl With a Great Appetite Who Will at Least Try Anything Once. It might have been your age, or your grandmother's excellent cooking, or the change of venue, or who knows what, but it is a glorious thing that we are so happy about. You now eat just about anything we put in front of you, no more begging or pleading or trying 6 different foods with each meal, praying that you will deem one of them edible, but knowing that you will probably only eat yogurt.
Another funny thing that started in Vermont: both of your grandparents are a bit hard of hearing, and your grandmother often tries to get your grandfather's attention, but doesn't feel like he responds quickly enough. So she calls out his name, first in a normal voice, and then again, each time escalating in volume, so she goes, "tom, Tom, TOM!!!" Well, one day we were all visiting the Shelburne Museum, and Daddy noticed that whenever Grandpa would walk away you would call out to him, just as Grandma does. We all chuckled about it (and, by the way, your are pretty smitten with Grandpa Tom right now, as both of your Grandpas are with you). Then, the next week when we were home from vacation, I was making your dinner one night and you wanted my attention, instead of calling out "Mommy!!!" like you usually do, you started yelling, "tom, Tom, TOM!!!" That was when I realized that you didn't know that Tom is your Grandpa's name, you thought that you yell out TOM!!! when you want to get someone's attention!
You still love to sing, you sing all the time, while you are eating, before your nap, after your nap, and before you fall asleep. I love hearing you sing, and I hope that you will never grow out of this, but I know you will, so I am recording you so that we can play it back together some time and enjoy it.
Oh my! There is so much to say, I think I just need to add to this as I think of things, so that I post to you more often than I have been.
I do have a link to a photo shoot we had done with your Aunt Becca.
I keep meaning to post photos, but these will do in a pinch, they are at least only a month old!!:
Lyons family pictures July 3, 2009
Your transition from a baby to a little girl has become even more apparent the last couple of months. Your language skills have developed by leaps and bounds. You now speak mostly in sentences, be it very short ones, but you understand almost all that we say. Sometimes it's a bit of a shocker to your daddy and I that you understand precisely what is going on. We have really drilled into your head that you need to be careful about how hot your food is before you put it in your mouth. You are pretty diligent about blowing on your food before you eat it, and always ask us if something is hot. Sometimes when things aren't hot, you are so careful that you ask a few times and still blow on your food. At those times, Daddy always says to you, "Actually, it's not hot, it's warm." So, the other day Daddy sat down to eat with you and you said/asked if your food was hot. And then before he had time to answer you said, "Actually, it's not hot, it's warm." It's a pretty amazing funny thing to hear come out of your mouth, because most sentences sound like this: "Vivi go out?", "I'M COMING!!!!!", "Vivi down", "I want MORE!"
Speaking of wanting more, we went on vacation to your grandparents' place in Vermont at the beginning of July. Something magical happened there that transitioned you from The Baby We Plead With to Eat to the Little Girl With a Great Appetite Who Will at Least Try Anything Once. It might have been your age, or your grandmother's excellent cooking, or the change of venue, or who knows what, but it is a glorious thing that we are so happy about. You now eat just about anything we put in front of you, no more begging or pleading or trying 6 different foods with each meal, praying that you will deem one of them edible, but knowing that you will probably only eat yogurt.
Another funny thing that started in Vermont: both of your grandparents are a bit hard of hearing, and your grandmother often tries to get your grandfather's attention, but doesn't feel like he responds quickly enough. So she calls out his name, first in a normal voice, and then again, each time escalating in volume, so she goes, "tom, Tom, TOM!!!" Well, one day we were all visiting the Shelburne Museum, and Daddy noticed that whenever Grandpa would walk away you would call out to him, just as Grandma does. We all chuckled about it (and, by the way, your are pretty smitten with Grandpa Tom right now, as both of your Grandpas are with you). Then, the next week when we were home from vacation, I was making your dinner one night and you wanted my attention, instead of calling out "Mommy!!!" like you usually do, you started yelling, "tom, Tom, TOM!!!" That was when I realized that you didn't know that Tom is your Grandpa's name, you thought that you yell out TOM!!! when you want to get someone's attention!
You still love to sing, you sing all the time, while you are eating, before your nap, after your nap, and before you fall asleep. I love hearing you sing, and I hope that you will never grow out of this, but I know you will, so I am recording you so that we can play it back together some time and enjoy it.
Oh my! There is so much to say, I think I just need to add to this as I think of things, so that I post to you more often than I have been.
I do have a link to a photo shoot we had done with your Aunt Becca.
I keep meaning to post photos, but these will do in a pinch, they are at least only a month old!!:
Lyons family pictures July 3, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
20 months
Yesterday morning when you woke up and were hanging out in bed with me, we started singing Old MacDonald, one of your favorite songs to sing. For the first time, you actually joined in the singing about animals that weren't cows. It's such a small silly thing, but it was a huge breakthrough, and it made me so happy and proud of you. The real truth is that I probably need to write this blog every day because each day you are doing something new and surprising, and when I don't write it down I get used to that new thing you do and forget that last week you didn't do it.
It's hard for me to remember when you were a teeny tiny baby who couldn't walk or even hold up her own head. It's hard to remember how you didn't sleep through the night for the first few months of your life. I know it was a part of my life that at the time I felt like it would never end. And now I barely remember it.
I so enjoy every moment with you that when I look back and realize that I barely remember some things it makes me feel sad and guilty. I think, I need to write more, take more pictures, use the video camera more. And I do need to do all of those things, certainly. Because I want every moment to last forever, every time you laugh, or hug me, or say something funny, or blow me a kiss. But then I think about how many cool things you are going to do, and wonder what those moments will be like and swell up with love and wishes and hopes for you. And then I think about how many more times you will hug and kiss me and say funny things and I stop feeling sad or guilty. I feel happy, excited and hopeful. And that is what having you in my life has been like.
It's hard for me to remember when you were a teeny tiny baby who couldn't walk or even hold up her own head. It's hard to remember how you didn't sleep through the night for the first few months of your life. I know it was a part of my life that at the time I felt like it would never end. And now I barely remember it.
I so enjoy every moment with you that when I look back and realize that I barely remember some things it makes me feel sad and guilty. I think, I need to write more, take more pictures, use the video camera more. And I do need to do all of those things, certainly. Because I want every moment to last forever, every time you laugh, or hug me, or say something funny, or blow me a kiss. But then I think about how many cool things you are going to do, and wonder what those moments will be like and swell up with love and wishes and hopes for you. And then I think about how many more times you will hug and kiss me and say funny things and I stop feeling sad or guilty. I feel happy, excited and hopeful. And that is what having you in my life has been like.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
19 months
Happy 19 month birthday baby girl!
It's amazing how quickly you are growing. Last weekend we met up with a friend who just had a baby 6 weeks ago, and it's so hard to remember you ever being such a teeny tiny infant. You are such a little girl now. You have long little girl legs and lots of hair, so much that you already got your first haircut. Every parent tells me how quickly their children grow up, and I completely understand what they mean. While I am so excited to see you become the person you are, I also wish I could keep you a little baby who needs me, who loves to cuddle, who thinks there is something magical in my kisses that makes "oweys" go away.
Last week you "pee pee'd" on your "potty" for the first time. And then you did it again the next day! This won't come as a surprise to anyone that knows you, but that is very advanced, and the prospect of you being potty trained is very exciting (that is one area where everyone would be more than happy to see you become more independent, nobody enjoys changing diapers). We didn't even push you to do it, you just kept saying "poo poo" and going to your potty (as advanced as you are, you haven't quite gotten the concept that there is a difference between "poo poo" and "peepee"), so uncle Mike helped you get your diaper off and sit down, and you did it! And the next day you did it for Mommy! We were very excited, and you, me, and Aunt Linda all clapped our hands and said "Yay!!!" for the next 5 minutes, which then caused you to do about 10 instant replays.
You have been singing your own made up songs for the last month or so. Most songs go on and on for a minute or so, with no discernible lyrics, although I am convinced they are real words, that I just haven't honed my baby talk translation skills enough to figure out what they are. One song you sang recently, only had one word, it went, "mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy." When Aunt Linda, trying to be funny, asked you what the name of that song was, you looked right at her and said, "ummmmmm, Mommm-my!!!?", kind of like, "Duh, you idiot, what did YOU think the name of that song would be?" Aunt Linda and I laughed for a good 5 minutes, which then caused you to do another one of your funny things, which we like to call your Fake Laugh, which always happens when you want to laugh along with us adults. It's this very hearty loud laugh that you do, and you look around at everyone else as you do it to let them know you get the joke, even though we are pretty sure that you don't. It's pretty funny and cute.
And now this weekend you started singing Old MacDonald, or at least the "Moo Moo Here, Moo Moo There" and "EIEIO!!!" parts. You also sing along to Itsy Bitsy Spider, and the ABC song. You also know certain parts of your books now and will say some lines along with me. When you do something you are proud of you go "yay!!!!" and clap your hands.
Last night as I was taking you to bed, you told me for the first time that you loved me. I know you didn't really understand what you were saying, you were just repeating what I say to you several times on the way to your crib, but I know if you understood what it meant, you would mean it. Of course you would. And it shouldn't surprise me at all, but that thought puts happy tears in my eyes.
It's amazing how quickly you are growing. Last weekend we met up with a friend who just had a baby 6 weeks ago, and it's so hard to remember you ever being such a teeny tiny infant. You are such a little girl now. You have long little girl legs and lots of hair, so much that you already got your first haircut. Every parent tells me how quickly their children grow up, and I completely understand what they mean. While I am so excited to see you become the person you are, I also wish I could keep you a little baby who needs me, who loves to cuddle, who thinks there is something magical in my kisses that makes "oweys" go away.
Last week you "pee pee'd" on your "potty" for the first time. And then you did it again the next day! This won't come as a surprise to anyone that knows you, but that is very advanced, and the prospect of you being potty trained is very exciting (that is one area where everyone would be more than happy to see you become more independent, nobody enjoys changing diapers). We didn't even push you to do it, you just kept saying "poo poo" and going to your potty (as advanced as you are, you haven't quite gotten the concept that there is a difference between "poo poo" and "peepee"), so uncle Mike helped you get your diaper off and sit down, and you did it! And the next day you did it for Mommy! We were very excited, and you, me, and Aunt Linda all clapped our hands and said "Yay!!!" for the next 5 minutes, which then caused you to do about 10 instant replays.
You have been singing your own made up songs for the last month or so. Most songs go on and on for a minute or so, with no discernible lyrics, although I am convinced they are real words, that I just haven't honed my baby talk translation skills enough to figure out what they are. One song you sang recently, only had one word, it went, "mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy mommy." When Aunt Linda, trying to be funny, asked you what the name of that song was, you looked right at her and said, "ummmmmm, Mommm-my!!!?", kind of like, "Duh, you idiot, what did YOU think the name of that song would be?" Aunt Linda and I laughed for a good 5 minutes, which then caused you to do another one of your funny things, which we like to call your Fake Laugh, which always happens when you want to laugh along with us adults. It's this very hearty loud laugh that you do, and you look around at everyone else as you do it to let them know you get the joke, even though we are pretty sure that you don't. It's pretty funny and cute.
And now this weekend you started singing Old MacDonald, or at least the "Moo Moo Here, Moo Moo There" and "EIEIO!!!" parts. You also sing along to Itsy Bitsy Spider, and the ABC song. You also know certain parts of your books now and will say some lines along with me. When you do something you are proud of you go "yay!!!!" and clap your hands.
Last night as I was taking you to bed, you told me for the first time that you loved me. I know you didn't really understand what you were saying, you were just repeating what I say to you several times on the way to your crib, but I know if you understood what it meant, you would mean it. Of course you would. And it shouldn't surprise me at all, but that thought puts happy tears in my eyes.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
18 Months
Happy 1 1/2 year birthday, Baby Girl! I love you so much.
Every month I mean to post a monthly birthday letter to you and each time, I let other things get in the way. I want you to know how much I love you and since I am so bad about filling out those little books with all the milestones, I know I need to do this for you, so no more lame excuses.
You have had a very eventful last month. You got glasses for your accommodative esotropia, which is a fancy way of saying crossed eyes due to constantly trying to focus to see, poor thing. At first I felt incredibly guilty for not noticing earlier (you grandparents pointed it out to Daddy and I), but apparently we caught this quite early compared to most people, and you will probably fare much better because of it. The opthamologist even says there is a chance that you might not need to wear glasses one day as long as you wear them as much as possible now. Now I feel extra guilty for making fun of that cross-eyed photographer that I had to follow around for three whole days at our annual meeting a few years ago. I am pretty sure that you have this problem due to some sort of cosmic payback to me. Don't ever make fun of other people, even if you think the irony warrants it (I don't make fun of cross-eyed people in general, just cross-eyed photographers, they are in the same sort of group as editors who can't spell (ahem!), midget basketball players, taxi cab drivers with no sense of direction, chefs who drown everything in salt, or color-blind designers.) Let this be a lesson to you (I bet you will hear that phrase from me a lot—I have a whole lot of speeches already planned for you based on mistakes that I have made that I am certain you don't need to repeat.)
We picked out some really cute frames and now when you wear your glasses you look very smart and adorable at the same time. Not surprising. We are still trying to convince you to wear them most of the time. You will wear them for a while and then when you seem to remember they are on, after about 20–30 minutes, you pull them off and usually hand them to us. Sometimes you want to keep holding on to them and bend them into shapes other then glasses, like maybe kitty cats or elephants and tv antennas, and that is when we have a sort of tug of war. So far I win, but there have been some close calls.
This month we also found out that you most likely have an allergy to tree nuts. Your Aunt Linda made a delicious treat of Toddler Truffles for you (in an attempt to get you to eat food, another new fun characteristic you picked up this month being an aversion to eating food, even foods you loved before). They are these yummy balls made from black beans and lots of sugar and walnuts, all blended together. They are actually quite tasty. You seemed to think so too, at least for the first 2/3 of the ball, but before you finished the whole thing, you suddenly got very angry and refused to hold the ball and huffed over to me and practically threw it at me. You huffed and puffed and I asked Aunt Linda if she put razor blades in your food again and we laughed at you. For a minute. And then your face started getting red and just a little bit puffy and your lip started to swell up a tiny bit and then you wanted to nurse. That was when we realized that you were probably having an allergic reaction. So we called your doctor and talked to a nurse who told us to give you Benadryl, which made everything better, except for you got super clutzy. It was kind of cute but mostly scary, especially when you tumbled down the two stairs from the dining room to the living room. That was when we realized we needed to follow you around everywhere for the rest of the day. Luckily it also made you very drowsy, so you mostly slept it all off. And so now we have an appointment to take you to the allergist next week.
Usually you are not clutzy. You started walking at only 10 months old and so now you walk like a pro. You even run and you have some great dance moves. In fact, you love to listen to music, especially while you are eating. You particularly love to spin around and do what I starting calling your chicken wing dance. This is when you bend both of your elbows while rocking back and forth and simultaneously going in a circle while sporting a huge smile. The smile makes everyone who sees you dance think it's the most adorable brilliant baby-dance they have ever seen.
You also have quite a vocabulary. You have for a while, but each week you add to it. When you were less than one year old, you already said "kitty" (your first word) and "mommy" and "daddy" and "more". Then you said "shoes" and "ball" and "cereal" and "yes" and "no". Now you can repeat most words that we ask you to (I guess our days of cussing are over) and you can say "cereal" and "Clydie" and "book" and "up" and "down" and "flower" and "bird". I am sure I am forgetting a ton of words that are in your repertoire. You mostly say "mommy" when you want something, but I think you know that it refers to me. In that weird enabling sort of way, I kind of like that you associate me with need. That might also have to do with the fact that I am still nursing you, which I can tell a lot of people think I should stop doing. I wasn't so ready to consider until this last week when I had a snow day off work and you treated me as your own personal udder. I am currently devising a plan to start weaning you. You also sing songs on command. I don't know the words to them, but you make these songs up right on the spot.
You also know what a lot of words mean that you just can't say yet. You can point to most common animals in your books when asked to and you know most of your body parts. When you can't say a word, however you get very aggravated and starting this week you might even have a temper tantrum when I don't understand what you are pointing at or what you want. So, I think you have started to go through the terrible twos. My father has let me know my entire life how lucky I was that he didn't throw me off the second floor balcony of our apartment when I was going through the terrible twos and there are brief moments when, for the first time of my life, I completely understand what he was going through. But those moments are so brief. Because aside from those moments, you are such a sweet pleasure to be around, I am constantly looking forward to seeing you and smiling about the funny things you do and say.
I love how when you wake up in the morning, when I come pick you up from your crib, you give me your biggest and best smile and you get so excited like you are saying to yourself, "Look, that lady is here again. I'm so glad." I don't know how I was ever able to wake up before without having that smile jump start my day. You are everything I ever imagined you would be and more, and each day I wake up I can't wait to see the exciting person you have become.
Every month I mean to post a monthly birthday letter to you and each time, I let other things get in the way. I want you to know how much I love you and since I am so bad about filling out those little books with all the milestones, I know I need to do this for you, so no more lame excuses.
You have had a very eventful last month. You got glasses for your accommodative esotropia, which is a fancy way of saying crossed eyes due to constantly trying to focus to see, poor thing. At first I felt incredibly guilty for not noticing earlier (you grandparents pointed it out to Daddy and I), but apparently we caught this quite early compared to most people, and you will probably fare much better because of it. The opthamologist even says there is a chance that you might not need to wear glasses one day as long as you wear them as much as possible now. Now I feel extra guilty for making fun of that cross-eyed photographer that I had to follow around for three whole days at our annual meeting a few years ago. I am pretty sure that you have this problem due to some sort of cosmic payback to me. Don't ever make fun of other people, even if you think the irony warrants it (I don't make fun of cross-eyed people in general, just cross-eyed photographers, they are in the same sort of group as editors who can't spell (ahem!), midget basketball players, taxi cab drivers with no sense of direction, chefs who drown everything in salt, or color-blind designers.) Let this be a lesson to you (I bet you will hear that phrase from me a lot—I have a whole lot of speeches already planned for you based on mistakes that I have made that I am certain you don't need to repeat.)
We picked out some really cute frames and now when you wear your glasses you look very smart and adorable at the same time. Not surprising. We are still trying to convince you to wear them most of the time. You will wear them for a while and then when you seem to remember they are on, after about 20–30 minutes, you pull them off and usually hand them to us. Sometimes you want to keep holding on to them and bend them into shapes other then glasses, like maybe kitty cats or elephants and tv antennas, and that is when we have a sort of tug of war. So far I win, but there have been some close calls.
This month we also found out that you most likely have an allergy to tree nuts. Your Aunt Linda made a delicious treat of Toddler Truffles for you (in an attempt to get you to eat food, another new fun characteristic you picked up this month being an aversion to eating food, even foods you loved before). They are these yummy balls made from black beans and lots of sugar and walnuts, all blended together. They are actually quite tasty. You seemed to think so too, at least for the first 2/3 of the ball, but before you finished the whole thing, you suddenly got very angry and refused to hold the ball and huffed over to me and practically threw it at me. You huffed and puffed and I asked Aunt Linda if she put razor blades in your food again and we laughed at you. For a minute. And then your face started getting red and just a little bit puffy and your lip started to swell up a tiny bit and then you wanted to nurse. That was when we realized that you were probably having an allergic reaction. So we called your doctor and talked to a nurse who told us to give you Benadryl, which made everything better, except for you got super clutzy. It was kind of cute but mostly scary, especially when you tumbled down the two stairs from the dining room to the living room. That was when we realized we needed to follow you around everywhere for the rest of the day. Luckily it also made you very drowsy, so you mostly slept it all off. And so now we have an appointment to take you to the allergist next week.
Usually you are not clutzy. You started walking at only 10 months old and so now you walk like a pro. You even run and you have some great dance moves. In fact, you love to listen to music, especially while you are eating. You particularly love to spin around and do what I starting calling your chicken wing dance. This is when you bend both of your elbows while rocking back and forth and simultaneously going in a circle while sporting a huge smile. The smile makes everyone who sees you dance think it's the most adorable brilliant baby-dance they have ever seen.
You also have quite a vocabulary. You have for a while, but each week you add to it. When you were less than one year old, you already said "kitty" (your first word) and "mommy" and "daddy" and "more". Then you said "shoes" and "ball" and "cereal" and "yes" and "no". Now you can repeat most words that we ask you to (I guess our days of cussing are over) and you can say "cereal" and "Clydie" and "book" and "up" and "down" and "flower" and "bird". I am sure I am forgetting a ton of words that are in your repertoire. You mostly say "mommy" when you want something, but I think you know that it refers to me. In that weird enabling sort of way, I kind of like that you associate me with need. That might also have to do with the fact that I am still nursing you, which I can tell a lot of people think I should stop doing. I wasn't so ready to consider until this last week when I had a snow day off work and you treated me as your own personal udder. I am currently devising a plan to start weaning you. You also sing songs on command. I don't know the words to them, but you make these songs up right on the spot.
You also know what a lot of words mean that you just can't say yet. You can point to most common animals in your books when asked to and you know most of your body parts. When you can't say a word, however you get very aggravated and starting this week you might even have a temper tantrum when I don't understand what you are pointing at or what you want. So, I think you have started to go through the terrible twos. My father has let me know my entire life how lucky I was that he didn't throw me off the second floor balcony of our apartment when I was going through the terrible twos and there are brief moments when, for the first time of my life, I completely understand what he was going through. But those moments are so brief. Because aside from those moments, you are such a sweet pleasure to be around, I am constantly looking forward to seeing you and smiling about the funny things you do and say.
I love how when you wake up in the morning, when I come pick you up from your crib, you give me your biggest and best smile and you get so excited like you are saying to yourself, "Look, that lady is here again. I'm so glad." I don't know how I was ever able to wake up before without having that smile jump start my day. You are everything I ever imagined you would be and more, and each day I wake up I can't wait to see the exciting person you have become.
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