Walking away

Solitary Vice

Hi stinky-dink,

Today at play group, we were discussing the relative vices of you, our tribe of toddlers.

It would seem that most, if not all of you have reached 16 or 18 months with potentially one vice to your name. Yours, of course, would be the pacifier.

Others had other vices, I think you're the only pacifier dependent one, but it's not my call to name vices of others so I'll just say that they existed, and they weren't particularly better or worse than the pacifier.

I don't know why I struggle so with your craving for it. You can't pass one by on the floor or table without plugging your mouth immediately. Earlier today I saw you walking around with one in your mouth, another in your hand, for emergency pacifier failure? I couldn't be sure.

After talking to my fabulous group of Mom-friends though I did see one thing in a new way. You have pretty much one vice. One. You may also have a couple bad sleeping habits and a Mom who has been called the "Food Nazi" by more than one homo sapien, but pretty much it comes down to the pacifier and I would bet my next paycheck that peer pressure will keep you from using it in high school.

I'm going to do my best to relax about the whole pacifier thing. I do panic a bit about the orthodontics bill that will be slapped down after years of pacifier gluttony, but this may be unnecessary. Maybe your teeth will straighten themselves out. Maybe the eleven months of nursing cancel out the pacifier? Who knows.

Maybe, my little pumpkin, you have to have one vice or you'd be too good. Maybe if Mamama stopped staring at the one blemish on an otherwise perfect complexion, Mamama would feel a whole lot better about the whole thing and you would just spontaneously forget you ever liked it in the first place.

Now though, you're asleep, and Harry Potter year 6 awaits.

I love you,
Mamama

Toddling

Hi Ava,

During our week vacation apart, you transformed from an almost toddler to a full fledged walking toddler. After eight days of chasing after your two slightly older cousins you walk with wild abandon. Today you even squiggled out of my arms in your haste to get to the ground.

Your Aunt Susi and Uncle John, not to mention cousins Karilyn and Annie taught you a few new tricks which I am finding really useful. You now are capable of saying "eat" (or a close facsimile) when you are hungry. You are also a much better dancer now, and if Fred were still in his dancing shoes, you'd be bumping Ginger right out of the way.

Your Aunt Susi claims you were an absolute angel during your visit and that you knew that you were just visiting while I was off somewhere else. You took a regular nap at 11AM and went to bed every night at 7:30PM. It is really, really nice to know this can happen! Of course, you've fought both the nap and the bedtime since you've arrived at home, and even brought us a surprise gift of pre-two tantrums. You haven't flailed on the ground, but you've done your share of screaming today.

Can I blame the two top incisors that are breaking through? Is that blaming too much on the teething? Or can I just blame it on separation anxiety as we were apart for longer than ever before and perhaps you're just worried that Mamama is going away again.

We went to Holly Park today, you and I, and for the first time you walked rapidly all over the place. I felt so strange and proud at the same time. We've been to Holly Park with our friends and I've watched all of their kids run around, now it's your turn. The monkey scoot has disappeared along with the soft leather shoes. You did get another compliment on your fabulous purple shoes though, from a Mom with a 12 month old girl at the park.

Now, it's 9:23. It only took an hour to get you to sleep, and I say "only" in the most sarcastic of senses after multiple instances of putting you down, letting you scream, picking you up, down, scream, up, down, scream, and finally sleep. I love the idea of a 7:30 bedtime, the execution leaves something to be desired.

Now, it's time for Mamama to go to sleep. If I scream will you come pick me up?

I did miss you, little one, and it's good to be home.

love,
Mamama

Already missing you

Hi sweet girl,

I was sad today I watched your Dadada leave to deliver you to your Uncle John's and Aunt Susi's. I came back into the house and fumbled around a bit unsure of what to do with myself. Sure, I had a list of errands to run and more to add to the list, but I felt a bit lost without you to wrap my Tuesday around.

Your Dadada called me after he dropped you off and said that was he hardest thing he's had to do in a while. As he was leaving you, he told you it was time for him to go and to give Daddy a kissy. You puckered up your lips and leaned over and kissed him. That's the first time I've heard of you doing that!

Around 7:30 as I was settling in to eat dinner, I thought of you. I closed my eyes, slowed down my breath until my heart felt warm, and I pictured myself wrapping my arms around you. I called your Aunt & Uncle's house a half hour later, and it turned out that's when you went to sleep.

Your Aunt Susi is a mom after my own heart, she told me what you ate for dinner (carrots and broccoli and TWO cups of milk!) and when you fell asleep. She said you were such a good baby and hardly cried today.

Maybe I'm doing my job okay afterall.

I love you stinky-dink.
Mamama

Protected by love

Hi Sweet Girl,

I was sad this afternoon, thinking of how much I'm going to miss you while your Dad and I go to Cancun. I looked at you walking, stumbling, picking yourself up to standing again, and my heart was sad thinking we'll be apart for a week and a half.

Your Dadada is driving you to your Aunt & Uncle's tomorrow while I'm at work. I'm sure you'll make the best of it and play with your cousins, and I'll make the best of Cancun and try not to miss you too much, but we've never been apart more than a couple nights before.

Sense usurped sensitivity at last and I surrendered to enjoying you. I didn't want you to feel something was wrong, that my sadness meant you were doing something wrong, so I just felt the love I have for you, warming me.

You are such a fabulous little girl. Everytime you walk to me and throw your arms around me I melt into a big sloppy puddle. You know you're doing something good, too, walking with that big wild grin on your face.

Tonight we watched Charmed while I cleaned up the living room and then I decided it was time for Xena and I pulled out the DVD. You like Xena, I can tell because you point at the TV when the theme song comes on and say AAAYYYYY. Your Dadada, he's a great man, but he doesn't get Xena like we do.

I told you it was time for bed soon and you walked around wearing off some of the last dregs of your energy until you came over to me on the couch and lifted one leg to try to climb up. This is my cue to pick you up and lay you down spoon-like in front of me.

You fell asleep about halfway through the program, on top of me diagonally, your back on my chest, legs off me to the left. You had one arm reaching back, touching me under my chin and I had my right arm over your tummy, keeping you safe.

I made a wish while you slept, your face two inches from mine. I said that while we're apart that you are protected by love, light, and all that is good; and that every day we're apart you will feel my love for you and know that we will be together again soon.

Do you know I love you?
Mamama

Walking business

Dear Ava,

This whole walking thing is very strange. First of all, when I got home today you walked to the front door when you saw me. Walked!

Second, you just walked into your bedroom to play with toys. Walked!

Third, when I put you down a few minutes ago, you didn't want to go down into a sitting position, but instead extended your legs and took off walking from where I put you. There are fewer gaps of monkey-scoot between strides. I'm going to miss that monkey-scoot of yours when it goes.

My friend Victoria commented recently that kids (including her 18 month old Ian) just look different when they start walking. I agree, you look taller and smaller and just, well, older or wiser somehow.

You still hold your hands in "stick 'em up" pose, so you walk around looking like a baby cactus. You used to sleep like a baby cactus when you were a month or two old, now you walk like a baby cactus.

It's just strange, really, this whole walking business. Next you're going to start calling me to pick you up from the mall. Where has my little girl gone?

Love,
Mamama

Lounging in the morning

Hi little one,

The mornings I am home with you are my favorite mornings of all. There's no rush, no hurry, we lounge around in bed with you sitting, flopping back, flopping on me, pulling yourself up with the metal headboard.

This morning was like this; you slept with me last night because I was feeling selfish. I was gone from 7AM until 9PM last night; I missed you and wanted you close.

Your chirps and short cries woke me, I opened my eyes and you were staring at me with your big brown ojos. I smiled, you smiled, then you leaned over to bite my nose. You were fascinated with my hair, picking it up and running it through you fingers. Soon enough, I promise, your hair will be as long as mine.

We lounged for at least half an hour, the TV dark and silent, the morning completely ours with no distractions. We played a quick game of modified peek-a-boo where I hid my face under the sheet and you "found me."

Now, you are about ready for a nap, evident by the whine, and from the obvious smell you could use a clean diaper. I better get to that...

love,
Mamama

Toy on the table

Hi sweetest girl,

You are starting to resist naps big time. I even went so far today as to gate us into your bedroom, lay down on the yellow couch in your room, and pretend to sleep in hopes that you'd do the same. No dice. I think I even fell asleep for a few minutes because when I opened my eyes again you'd emptied out the contents of your dresser onto the floor. Then, when I had given up hope and was about to take you to the grocery store to get dinner, you started your trademark "nobody loves me" whine and I gave you a pacifier and rocked you for ten seconds and you were gone.

I can't start dinner, because dinner ingredients are still at the grocery store, and I can't very well leave because you're asleep.

So I started working and on the table was one of your toys. I could picture the future moment when you would be out the door, away at college, and there would be no toys on the table. I didn't even have a second to be irritated that I had to put yet another toy away, because I could feel time dissolving the distance between now and then. Today, you're getting closer to being a full time walker, tomorrow, you're taking that acceptance letter and packing for some college that is probably not as close as SFSU or even Berkeley.

I'm glad the house doesn't have to be perfect, that I don't have to rush to put away the toys you skattered on the floor, that I don't scream in agony when I have to pick up the clothes you ripped out of your dresser that I did just neatly fold and put away.

I'm glad, at least today, that I can smile about it. I can see far enough into the future to enjoy the toy on the table while you're asleep in your crib, 144 inches, not miles, away.

I love you stinky-dink,
Mamama

Ava celebrates her sixteen month birthday

Hi stinky-dink!

Today, you are sixteen months old. We celebrated this exciting event with buying you big-girl walking shoes from Nordstrom. As always, I couldn't buy you pink shoes, I bought you super purple shoes! My bank account hurt just a little as I dropped $50 on shoes for you, but since these are your first shoes, I couldn't resist.

We also celebrated today by hanging out with our friends Amy and Jack. We went to lunch at olive garden where you and Jack swung spaghetti noodles high over your heads and then cracked them like whips.

We then went to the petting zoo, where you touched goats' horns, surprised at the hardness of them and wondering why the small black and white animals at home don't have these. You always love the ducks, and tried more than once to climb into the duck pond although I insisted it wasn't a good day for swimming. You monkey scooted your way across the petting zoo getting your new shoes all dusty.
We finished our SF Zoo experience with a ride on the carousel horse, you in front, me in back. I asked you mid-ride what you thought and you responded with "Yaaaaayyyyyy!"

You are such a beautiful child, a wonderful child, and a curious child. Your latest tricks are to cover your eyes for peek-a-boo when I say "Where's Ava?" and then you take your hands off and giggle when I say "There she is!" You love your cupboard in the kitchen where you can empty all of the plastic containers onto the floor and watch me put them away. You walk sometimes, not always, but when you do you grin uncontrollably because you know you are doing something BIG.

I love you more each day,

Mamama

Alphabet sleeping

Hi my sweet girl,

Sleeping is always an event with a surprise beginning around here. You don't have a predictable bedtime, unless predictable can be defined as plus or minus an hour, and where you fall asleep is even more unpredictable. Sometimes you fall asleep on the living room floor, sometimes you fall asleep next to me in bed, sometimes you fall asleep in my arms in the rocking chair, but almost never do you fall asleep solo in your crib.

I know, in Mom School they told me that I'm supposed to teach you to fall asleep in your crib, even if it means you're crying forever. Usually I only use that as a tool to get you sleepy. I'll put you in your crib when I know you just need to cry for a bit to get good and tired, then I'll take you out after about five minutes and rock you or hold you until you drift off.

Before you could stand up I'd let you cry laying down, but when you're standing up in your crib, holding your arms out, I fall for the trap and pick you up. I reason that you're only this little for a short while, and it's an indulgence for myself as well as you.

The other mystery of every night is where you end up sleeping. Some nights I put you in your crib after you fall asleep. Then your Dadada falls asleep on the couch in front of the TV, because he knows I won't sleep with the TV on in the bedroom, and we all sleep stretched out in different places.

Then some nights, Dadada sleeps with me, or just you sleep with me, but the nights my heart loves most but my back likes least is ones like last night, when we all sleep in the same bed.

The night starts out with us all sleeping parallel, like I's. Then you shift in the middle of the night and we become an H or even an N. Last night I woke up at some pre-dawn hour and saw we were an upside-down A, your Dadada and I the angles and you the center cross. A bit later you started crying and I pulled you close. We became a V.

I know, at Mom School they said I shouldn't get you used to sleeping with me, but to them I stick out my tongue and say PPTHTTTT! You don't want to sleep with us every night and some nights I feel you just want to be close to us, that you need extra comfort, extra love. What's the harm in that? I'm reminded of a story my friend Stef once recounted about a mother-daughter pair who slept in the same bed, the mother's point being "Who wants to sleep alone?"

Tonight though, you fell asleep in the car on the way home from Nana's and we put you right into your crib. I'll see you in the morning, my love.

Mamama

Befriending the green-eyed monster

Hi little one,

Someday when you are older, you will be able to match the feeling of jealousy with the word. Oddly enough, you're inheriting jealousy from me, not your father. He is one of the few Mexican men that isn't jealous, and I didn't think that I was either, but my roots are showing.

My first hint of jealousy is anger. Usually when I feel angry, underneath the anger is jealousy. I feel like someone else has something that I want, something that I think would make my life better, make me happier, and their life is better because they have this - whatever this is.

I see this in you, too. Your Dadada will hug me, and you scream from the floor. He's taking your Mamama away from you. Is this true? Not in the slightest, because really, although you don't know it, you want your parents to be happy together. I'm guessing you see this as a loss, a theft, because Dadada is getting my attention instead of you.

It's okay, my love, I do this all the time. I get jealous of others for having something I want - sometimes it's just the fact that they live by themselves and get to have all the quiet and solitude I used to enjoy. I don't want this all the time, because I miss you terribly if we're apart for a whole day, but sometimes I want to be by myself and I find it's impossible. I see someone else living by themselves and I want what I think they have. The funny thing about jealousy though, is it usually happens in both directions. The friend I envy because she lives alone probably envies me because I have you and your Dadada. I have a family, and she wants that.

I also get jealous of friends that are home all the time with their Ava's because they have that luxury of time I don't think I have in juggling work, you, Dadada, and a slice of time for me. But I would bet some of them are jealous that I have work to go to, that I'm not at home all the time. Maybe they are, maybe they're not. That's the thing about jealousy, you never know, but it messes everyone up just the same.

Jealousy can be more than just an irritation though. Jealousy, when used properly, can be really useful. Jealousy can be something like an alarm, signaling action. If I can look at jealousy as something to learn from rather than hide and avoid, maybe I can teach you about that too.

When I feel jealous of my friend with her own place, maybe instead of being bitter and angry, what my jealousy is really telling me is that I need some time to myself. I need a Julie Day and I need to ask for help in getting some time alone.

When I am jealous of others that have more time with their Ava's, maybe really what I need is to enjoy the time I have with you. On our days together I don't need to rush around doing errands that are of minor importance as long as we have milk in the refrigerator. We can just play on the living room floor and you can show me what you've learned since our last day together. Instead of feeling angry that we don't have enough time, when I'd be a nervous wreck if I wasn't working, I can be grateful for the time I do have.

As for you, my little pumpkin, I can tell you that your Dadada isn't taking anything away from you when he cuddles with me on the couch, really what he's giving you is happy parents. I don't expect this will make sense yet. What I can do though is work on my own jealousy and use it as a barometer rather than a mosquito bite, and maybe your jealousy will sort itself out too.