Rock, Rock, Till You Drop

My little one,

You have not made up your mind about walking yet. In theory, you think it is a great idea, adding to your mobility and ability to get to and empty the rubbermaid cabinet more quickly, but in practice, you do not think it's everything big people make it out to be. There is a big advantage to your monkey-scoot, you reason, as it doesn't involve the intricate balance of moving your feet synchronously as you try not to fall down. No matter, you'll be there soon enough.

What you do love, however, is climbing into the big, wooden, grown-up rocking chair in the living room and rocking furiously as if it will get you to Christmas quicker.

This all started last Saturday, when it was hot in San Francisco, which nearly never happens in July, and I had you stripped down to a diaper mid-day instead of the usual mid-summer snowsuit.

You monkey-scooted over to the rocking chair, and pausing only momentarily to see if I was really watching you (I was), grabbed onto the arm of the chair, swung one leg up onto the seat, then hauled up your tummy, and yes, to be certain, you were on the rocking chair. You sat down as if you'd done this a million times, leaned forward, and started rocking back and forth, laughing all the way.

I helped you get down that first time, and once earlier today when you though you should scoot your behind to the edge of the chair and jump down, instead of coming off the chair backwards like some kind of sane baby (that must be an oxymoron). As you were about to belly-flop onto the hardwood floor I caught you, spiderman-like a centimeter from the floor. You cried anyway, perhaps because you were looking forward to the belly flop and I, in my haste to save you, ruined a wonderful belly flop.

You mount the rocking chair at least three times a day, from what I can see, and I watch, laugh, and think what a big girl you're becoming...

All my love,
Now and forever,
Mamama

These Feets Were Made For Walkin'

Hi kitten,

Every day you are getting bolder in literally stepping away from your supports. I am awed by your sudden confidence, boldness, in turning away from the chair that supports you and toddling about on your own two feet.

You walk a little like Frankenstein, wobbly but with determination and confidence that grows with every step. I am amazed that last Friday you were pushing a stool around as an improvised walker, and today you turn away from it and walk to the center of the room, taking one, two, three, four, five, six, and maybe seven steps until your knees shake and you realize you're really WALKING and you plop to the ground.

You keep trying though, letting go of each support, walking towards me, walking away from me. You are teaching me to never give up.

love,
your mamama

A beautiful butterfly

Hi my sweet girl,

When I was about four months pregnant, I went out to Colorado to visit your Grandma Jenny. We went shopping at the Carter's store picking out various clothes in gender-neutral colors because your Dadada and I didn't know whether you were a boy or a girl. We didn't want to know, and during the ultrasound at 11 weeks, you didn't want us to know either because you crossed your legs so the nurse couldn't see.

So your Grandma Jenny and I had a pile of clothes, some even in pale blue, when I saw this pink onesie with a butterfly and the text "A Beautiful Butterfly" in a 9 month size. I had to have it.

See, I knew, deep down in my gut and instinct knew you were a girl. I had dreams of you being a girl, when I imagined you talking to me from the womb, you had a girl's voice, I just knew.

We had one outfit that was dark blue and when we got to the register I couldn't buy it. I couldn't picture you in a boy outfit.

Up until the last month of my pregnancy, I knew you were a girl, but then doubt penetrated my intuition. As we grew nearer and then passed my due date of 3/27, I had to have another ultrasound and this time your Dadada and I said the nurse could tell us your gender.

"I can tell, are you sure you want to know?" the nurse asked us.

"Yes."

"I can see...labia."

You were a girl, I knew it.

First solo flight

My little one,

Last night was rough. The night started off deceptively easy as you fell asleep in my arms as Dadada and I were watching "Honeymoon in Vegas" on TV. I felt the utter and complete peace that washes over me when you rest your head against my chest and doze off. This bliss is only surpassed by the fabulous hormone rush when you were still nursing that could put us both to sleep.

But then, you were awake off and on for the next couple hours, at one point screaming out for five minutes with your eyes shut. I blame that pesky new tooth, because it's a convenient nemesis for my blame, but after we watched you scream forever, I got the Tylenol ready while your Dadada picked you up. Even in sleep, I reasoned, you shouldn't have to be in so much pain.

After that, you slept for a bit longer in your crib, but when you woke again a couple hours later, I pulled you into bed with me. You were on fire, my love, and not in a good way. Your little body could have heated our whole house. I thought twice that I should put a pillow on the other side of you, just in case you started your typical wild rolling, but didn't do anything about it.

Yes, I lived to regret that. Sometime in the middle of the night, you rolled over and plummeted to the floor and started screaming. I wanted to join you in screaming, believe me! I felt completely awful, hugging you close to me, vowing to not let you fall again. If only I had followed my instincts!

I put you back in my bed, knowing there was no way you would sleep in your crib tonight, putting a couple pillows and a rolled up blanket on the other side of you. You tossed and turned and there was pretty much no way I would fall asleep for fear you'd roll over the pillows and onto the floor again.

Finally, I came up with a solution that would keep you from rolling off, but gave me the worst backache I've had in a while. I put us both on the hard yellow couch in your room, you on the inside, me on the out, and we slept like that for the rest of the night.

At 8AM we both woke, and I felt like some giant person had sat on me in the middle of the night.

Now it's nearly noon, and you could use a nap, I could use a nap, but as I started to open my laptop, I just witnessed your first solo flight, little fledgling. You were holding onto the table leg, facing away from me, and you let go, taking one...two...three...four steps all by yourself.

Tears moistened my eyes as I watched these steps. I felt so honored, that on this sleep-deprivation Sunday, I just witnessed your first solo flight.

Now you have fallen asleep in my lap as I've been typing one handed. Those four steps are enough to tire you out, and I'm going to gently put you down in your crib, not on my bed, because I got the lesson at 3AM.

love always,
Mamama

PB&J and Milk

Hello my sweet girl,

This week you've eaten pb&j sandwiches at least four times. I wonder if there's some legal dietary constraint mandating that pb&j must be consumed no more than three times in a week or they, whomever they are, are going to haul me off to the dietary detention facility. I swear it's been whole grain bread, the jelly is lower-sugar fruit spread, and the pb contains only peanuts, not all those ingredients I can't pronounce. Maybe they'll take it easy on me.

You made me laugh though, because after you ate one of your pb&j bites you would reach your arms out, as if you reached just a little bit further you could possibly grab your sippy cup of milk that was at least two feet away.

When I handed it to you, you drank mightly, as if you hadn't seen liquid in months, and let out this fabulous gasp, Aaaaahhhhhh! That was obviously the best milk cows have ever made.

love always,
your Mamama

Dancing with dadada

Water Fun

Hi my little love,

You just took a bath, preceeded, of course, by the "someone is going to get a bath" and "naked baby dance" songs. I think you know these songs mean you're going to get a bath since I've sung them to you from the time you started taking baths after your umbilical cord stump was eased off by your doctor.

Now you have a cute belly button where that cord used to be, but as usual, I digress.

This week your cousins Jonathan (9) and Destiny (6) arrived from SoCal to hang out with your Nana and our tribe of three. You've had a busy week with them - we went to the Zoo on Tuesday where the prarie dogs have replaced the penguins as your favorite animals. I took you out of your stroller and you kept pulling yourself up and tapping on the plexiglass that separated them from you. Your cousin Jonathan loved the lions best, especially because he got to see them eat lunch, and we're still not sure what Destiny liked best.

Today you, me, your Dadada, the cousins, Jacque, Tina, Brianna, and Brooke all went to waterworld where you & I hung out on the grass while the others went off to partake of the waterslides. We were bored soon enough, me more than you, as you were entertained by climbing up onto the plastic lounge chair, scooting up and down the length, then climbing off onto the ground. You did this numerous times until I finally said we were going to grab and innertube and float along the Lazy River ride.

As soon as we got situated, where I was laying across the tube with my bottom touching the water, you riding on my stomach, we had more fun than should be legal. You screamed everytime we got splashed by some errant kid, but for the most part, you loved watching the world float by from Mamama's tummy. We tried this again after lunch, but it didn't fare as well because I couldn't get off of the inner tube without sending both of us underwater. I wanted to scream, but you screamed enough for the two of us! A couple more years and you'll love the water park, but for now, the bathtub is really all you need for guaranteed water fun.

You have been quite the climber for the last couple weeks. You have mastered the art of mounting and dismounting your trusty wooden steed, and also your little tyke tricycle. Your feet can't quite touch the ground from the trike yet, but if enthusiasm could power those wheels, you would be out of the house and down the block by now.

You're still putting everything possible in your mouth, but we did just figure out that you're growing a new tooth. It's not one of those giant baby molars you grew four of a couple months ago, but it's one on top between the four teeth on top and that molar - one of the bicuspids for sure. Your Dadada and I were really relieved to see that a tooth was the cause of your utter misery last night because when I say you were not yourself, I mean that it was like someone replaced my happy pleasant little girl with one who cries all the time and cannot be consoled by anything. We were also blaming the full moon, which we do whenever there is one around to blame, but I was relieved to see a tooth peek its painful spikes through your tender gums. Growing teeth is hard business!

Now, you are thinking about mounting your trusty steed, but really you're trying to see what I'm doing on my computer which is my cue to post and sign off.

I love you, my little one, today and always.
Mamama

I have a comb and I'm not afraid to use it

Who's the fairest?

Right now, my little girl, you are swinging your hips to Hall and Oats "Out of Time" while holding onto the pole of a floor-to-ceiling lamp. There's a mirror in front of you, and I swear you are kissing your reflection.

One of your favorite things to do is find your Dadada's camelback water pack and drink out of the blue straw tube. I don't believe you're always thirsty, but you can never be too hydrated.

You stands in moments, solid for about ten seconds before falling backwards onto your behind or forward to grab onto something. Balance, you are learning about balance. You watched me do a yoga half moon pose and started laughing. I bet it did look really funny to see me balancing on one foot, one arm, with my other appendages up in the air. I was shaky too, I'm also learning about balannce.