Posts tagged rosemary by month
May
25th
Fri
Dear Rosemary, Today you are 22 months old. Such a big girl. The other day you were mimicking the dance moves in Beyonce’s “All the Single Ladies” video. We’ll have to get you a single black glove. Your most wild tantrum to date occurred in Target. Over having to put back a doll stroller. That night you refused sleep for hours, and I’m convinced you were imagining baby doll strollers rolling away, just out of your grasp. Grandma Jane gave you a bag of large plastic bugs. You preferred the four beetles (which we proceeded to name John, Paul, George and Ringo) and the Praying Mantis. You can say “mantis” perfectly. You can sing the tune to several songs, including “You Are My Sunshine,” and Feist’s “1, 2, 3, 4.” You’ve started coloring with more precision. Bubbles (or at least their general area) are colored blue. Eyes are scribbled brown or green. You can say so many things now. You drop the first letter a lot…”slipper” is “ipper!” or milk is “ilk!” I can usually understand you, and you’re starting to make sentences.  My grandma used to say to me, “I love you to bits and pieces.” I did not know what it meant at the time, like some other things she used to say. How she used to use the word “doofer” as an insult or sing a song that went “Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ra” (apparently an Irish lullabye).   But now I understand. Because I feel that way about my daughters. I do not just love you. I cherish every single detail about you. Each baby toe and eyelash. The facets of your personalities that make you who you are. I love you wholly. Each bit and piece and to my core.  You are working on your two-year-old molars on the bottom of your gums. We’ve had some horrible sleep-refusing nights. This morning, you woke up at 4 and did not go back to sleep. So I took you downstairs and sat with you while you ate squares of toast and drank juice and watched Sesame Street on Netflix. I was so tired and grumpy, but there are far worse things than being snuggled on the sofa with you. You stayed up until 11am. When after plucking a balloon from a display in the Home Depot and eating a bag of free popcorn, you came home and gathered your plastic bugs. You finally fell asleep in my arms—bugs piled on top of you, with your balloon in hand.  Love, Mom

Dear Rosemary,

Today you are 22 months old. Such a big girl.

The other day you were mimicking the dance moves in Beyonce’s “All the Single Ladies” video. We’ll have to get you a single black glove. Your most wild tantrum to date occurred in Target. Over having to put back a doll stroller. That night you refused sleep for hours, and I’m convinced you were imagining baby doll strollers rolling away, just out of your grasp. Grandma Jane gave you a bag of large plastic bugs. You preferred the four beetles (which we proceeded to name John, Paul, George and Ringo) and the Praying Mantis. You can say “mantis” perfectly. You can sing the tune to several songs, including “You Are My Sunshine,” and Feist’s “1, 2, 3, 4.” You’ve started coloring with more precision. Bubbles (or at least their general area) are colored blue. Eyes are scribbled brown or green. You can say so many things now. You drop the first letter a lot…”slipper” is “ipper!” or milk is “ilk!” I can usually understand you, and you’re starting to make sentences. 

My grandma used to say to me, “I love you to bits and pieces.” I did not know what it meant at the time, like some other things she used to say. How she used to use the word “doofer” as an insult or sing a song that went “Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ra” (apparently an Irish lullabye).  

But now I understand. Because I feel that way about my daughters. I do not just love you. I cherish every single detail about you. Each baby toe and eyelash. The facets of your personalities that make you who you are. I love you wholly. Each bit and piece and to my core. 

You are working on your two-year-old molars on the bottom of your gums. We’ve had some horrible sleep-refusing nights. This morning, you woke up at 4 and did not go back to sleep. So I took you downstairs and sat with you while you ate squares of toast and drank juice and watched Sesame Street on Netflix. I was so tired and grumpy, but there are far worse things than being snuggled on the sofa with you. You stayed up until 11am. When after plucking a balloon from a display in the Home Depot and eating a bag of free popcorn, you came home and gathered your plastic bugs. You finally fell asleep in my arms—bugs piled on top of you, with your balloon in hand. 

Love,

Mom
— 10 notes ()
Apr
26th
Thu

Yesterday, Rosemary turned 21 months old. This has been a big month for her. And this is her favorite shirt.

First, there’s the talking. She’s really started to pick up new words every day. It’s like a switch was flipped and now she gets it. She has understood us for months and months, but it’s only recently that she’s started using lots of words. She knows a lot of animals, body parts, vehicles and airplanes, commands (“help, please,” “thank you,” etc), all of the Sesame Street and Cat in the Hat characters, people’s names, and is getting quite good at telling us what she wants. She also has started singing. She used to kind of hum along, but now, she’s actually getting the tune right and the words correct. One of her favorite songs to sing is the theme to “Elmo’s World.”

We bought a potty seat for her last week, and she is quite fond of it (it’s got Sesame Street characters on it, go figure). She likes to sit on the toilet, flush, and wash her hands. She understands when she is going, but is more likely to tell us after-the-fact. We’re just keeping it fun. I’m certain she will be very easy to potty train once she really gets it in a couple more months.

Rosemary’s started eating more, but it’s still hit or miss. She loves macaroni and cheese, peas, pasta, pancakes, waffles, crackers/snacky things, popcorn, and juice. She’s branched out a lot in things she will eat and enjoys veggie burgers, bean soup, grated cheese, more exotic fruits (like pineapple and cantaloupe), and even ate some fish sticks. She also drinks her milk well. She hasn’t worn a bib in about six months, and is really good at using utensils, and as long as things are cut-up bite-sized, she needs no help eating. We let her enjoy the occasional treat—ice cream and cupcakes are her favorites. She also is working on her last two molars (top), and she really has a mouth full of chompers. She really likes to have a little Orajel put on them before bed.

Rosie loves being outside. We filled an old plastic swimming pool with sand, and she spends hours digging in and moving sand around from bucket to bucket. She likes to help water plants, dig in the dirt, and move our tomato markers around (we kept them in the pots so we could tell which tomato variety was which…so much for that!) Andrew lets her hold worms and bugs and builds ramps for her to ride down. She is crazy coordinated at the park and can pretty much independently climb and play. I just have to watch she doesn’t try to go on anything too advanced for her (like slide down a fire pole).

She likes helping with Anthea, and is very fond of putting diapers on her own baby doll. She also has quite an entourage of “buddies” that she carries around and carries to bed with her, in addition to her Snuggler. Elmo, Curious George, Cookie Monster, Ernie, the Cat, Muffin and Rudy (from 3rd and Bird), and various other friends. When the weather got a little warmer recently, we stopped using her sleep sack. She has slept in a Grobag every night since she was a tiny baby (but not for naps), so this was a big step! She now sleeps under her dog blanket. She sleeps very well at night—about 10 hours solid, which is awesome. I’m starting to think about transitioning her crib to a toddler bed.

Rosemary is very opinionated. She will walk with her hands clasped behind her back so that you can’t reach for her hand to guide her. She likes to pick her own clothes and books. She makes it known what TV show she wants to watch. And she is easily frustrated when she can’t do something. She isn’t a difficult kiddo, but is known to throw the occasional tantrum. It’s hard being a toddler.

Life is getting so fun with her. Though I love small babies, it’s so much cooler when they start to become little people. I can’t believe we’ll be celebrating her second birthday soon. Before I know it, she’ll be graduating college.

— 1 note ()
Mar
27th
Tue
Over the weekend, my first baby quietly turned 20 months old. She seems so big! I can’t believe how quickly she is changing into a little kiddo.  In the past month or so, her vocabulary and understanding really seems to have exploded. She understands most of what we say and is constantly talking. She says simple sentences, such as “a big poop,” “come on, moon,” “rock, chalk, jayhawk” and “help please!” She also says “no” to most questions, which is so very toddler-ish of her. She is picking up new words almost daily, but it takes her a while to perfect them (“grandma” was a fun one.) She understands concepts like different colors, counting, and the ABCs, but cannot yet articulate much. For instance, every color she sees is “BLUE!” And her alphabet song is just a tune, at this point.  She has gotten all of her canine teeth and is currently working on her two-year-old molars way in the back. I can tell these are bothering her because she is constantly trying to put her fingers back there. And is generally pretty whiney. She also will go get the tube of Orajel from her room and bring it to us, if she wants it on. I hope these and the top ones come in soon, and we shall be done with teething for a while! Food is still a day-to-day thing. Since she had the flu and her teething issues, the past week has been a struggle to get anything besides juice and crackers in her. But, when she’s healthy, she likes pancakes/waffles/french toast and is a huge fan of mac and cheese still. Green peas and corn are her fave veggies. And the kid never turns down a chocolate milkshake. Rosemary is a little jealous of Anthea, but is doing great on the whole. Mostly, she doesn’t like it when Grandma Jane comes over and holds the baby. Grandma Jane, is apparently ONLY allowed to play with Rosie and do nothing else at our house. Sleeping is going a lot better. She is learning to gradually put herself to sleep as we rock her for shorter and shorter periods (but again, teething and sickness have thrown a wrench in this, too). This month she spent a lot of time playing on her new slide, coloring and stickering (she also did her first painting), building pillow forts, dancing, reading, watching Sesame Street and caring for her stuffed animals (Elmo and Curious George are her best buds). She will wrap her stuffed animals in blankets, feed them, put them in Anthea’s bouncer, etc. She also takes an arsenal of comfort objects to bed with her. She wants to do everything herself these days. I’ve always known she was an independent little soul, but there’s something amazing about watching her learn to put socks on, or the insistence on brushing her own teeth and recognizing that she actually does it properly with no help at all. Though it’s somewhat sad to watch her babyhood fade, I am so very excited for her to experience what’s next. I am looking forward to a summer full of playgrounds and outdoors for her to stretch her legs and imagination. The world is waiting.

Over the weekend, my first baby quietly turned 20 months old. She seems so big! I can’t believe how quickly she is changing into a little kiddo. 

In the past month or so, her vocabulary and understanding really seems to have exploded. She understands most of what we say and is constantly talking. She says simple sentences, such as “a big poop,” “come on, moon,” “rock, chalk, jayhawk” and “help please!” She also says “no” to most questions, which is so very toddler-ish of her. She is picking up new words almost daily, but it takes her a while to perfect them (“grandma” was a fun one.) She understands concepts like different colors, counting, and the ABCs, but cannot yet articulate much. For instance, every color she sees is “BLUE!” And her alphabet song is just a tune, at this point. 

She has gotten all of her canine teeth and is currently working on her two-year-old molars way in the back. I can tell these are bothering her because she is constantly trying to put her fingers back there. And is generally pretty whiney. She also will go get the tube of Orajel from her room and bring it to us, if she wants it on. I hope these and the top ones come in soon, and we shall be done with teething for a while!

Food is still a day-to-day thing. Since she had the flu and her teething issues, the past week has been a struggle to get anything besides juice and crackers in her. But, when she’s healthy, she likes pancakes/waffles/french toast and is a huge fan of mac and cheese still. Green peas and corn are her fave veggies. And the kid never turns down a chocolate milkshake.

Rosemary is a little jealous of Anthea, but is doing great on the whole. Mostly, she doesn’t like it when Grandma Jane comes over and holds the baby. Grandma Jane, is apparently ONLY allowed to play with Rosie and do nothing else at our house.

Sleeping is going a lot better. She is learning to gradually put herself to sleep as we rock her for shorter and shorter periods (but again, teething and sickness have thrown a wrench in this, too).

This month she spent a lot of time playing on her new slide, coloring and stickering (she also did her first painting), building pillow forts, dancing, reading, watching Sesame Street and caring for her stuffed animals (Elmo and Curious George are her best buds). She will wrap her stuffed animals in blankets, feed them, put them in Anthea’s bouncer, etc. She also takes an arsenal of comfort objects to bed with her.

She wants to do everything herself these days. I’ve always known she was an independent little soul, but there’s something amazing about watching her learn to put socks on, or the insistence on brushing her own teeth and recognizing that she actually does it properly with no help at all.

Though it’s somewhat sad to watch her babyhood fade, I am so very excited for her to experience what’s next. I am looking forward to a summer full of playgrounds and outdoors for her to stretch her legs and imagination. The world is waiting.

— 4 notes ()
Jan
26th
Thu

18 months!

Yesterday was Rosemary’s half birthday. I can’t believe my little lady is 18 months old! She’s changed so much, just from looking at pictures from a few months ago, even. It seems every day, there’s a new development or fun trick. I’m not kidding when I say that every day gets more fun and cute. She says “uh oh” and “oops” about a thousand times a day for things that aren’t really accidents. Example: throwing a giant duck at me…”Oops!” Speaking of ducks, she also says a really hilarious combination of “quack” and “duck” in a quacking rhythm when she sees one. She says quite a few words and keeps up a total stream of conversation, but not all of it is comprehensible English.

She is 31.5 inches long (50th percentile) and 20lbs, 5oz (4th percentile). She’s definitely a little bear, but very healthy and energetic. I swear she burns calories constantly just by never holding still. Her favorite foods are macaroni and cheese (still number one), waffles with syrup, juice, hashbrowns, peas, hard-cooked eggs, spaghetti, and ice cream.

Likes: reading, dancing, singing along to the alphabet song, climbing, jumping, WWF-style body slamming on the bed, trying on boots and shoes, watching “3rd and Bird,” going to the playground, petting dogs and cats, helping unload the dishwasher and do laundry, taking baths (which have gotten crazy lately—she thinks the tub is a pool and the edges are diving boards), slides, stickers, puzzles (which she can do all by herself!), looking at pictures, dragging mom and dad places by one finger to get whatever she wants, playing “This little piggy,” kissing, using adult utensils to eat, her “snuggler” and big stuffed dog Elvis. 

Dislikes: riding in shopping baskets or strollers, teething, car rides, being told “no,” the bitter realization that it’s bedtime, not being allowed to eat off our plates, 

Life is always interesting and a whirlwind of activity. I can’t imagine life without our sweet girl, and I can’t wait to see what’s next.

— 6 notes ()
Dec
19th
Mon
Our girl is big. She jumps and runs. She dips her food in various sauces. She climbs and dances and mimics what we do. She can wash her own hair and tummy and face in the bath. She jockeys her pink horse, Bubblegum, and her lamb, Chops, crazily fast (where is she going?) And, I think I can say we’ve finished breastfeeding. The view above, the one I’ve had for so long of a sated, content, sleeping baby, is no more. I didn’t know the last time was the last time, but it’s worked out that way. She’s breastfed once in the past five days, I think. Wow. So much of my time has been devoted to holding and rocking and nursing. The past few months I have savored that time, knowing, instinctively, that it was coming to a close. Worried that without that be-all-end-all trick in my bag (bra?), she’d never calm down and go to sleep. And a few times, it has been really challenging. But it’s definitely been more emotional on me, than it has on her. So much that, admittedly, I’ve cried a few times, struck by the sudden-ness of the way my baby, who always has nursed herself to sleep in my arms, has grown up. Remembering how, on the day I first met her, she wasn’t even coordinated enough to figure it out. Reflecting on the times it felt burdensome that she would never take a bottle and annoyed that I was always the one to get her back to sleep at night. Thinking of all the cities and places we’ve breastfed. And now, feeling guilty that I’m denying her something healthy that she still likes and needs. Would I have continued longer or weaned more slowly if I was not pregnant again? We’ve been blessed that she’s always been incredibly healthy…only a handful of colds and no infections or fevers or anything. Am I going to ruin our track record by stopping? I don’t know. But I have to let go and trust that I have given her a wonderful start to life and done my absolute best. That this is another milestone. So, I am feeling proud and heartbroken, lucky and bewildered, and amazed at the way it all has worked for us. It’s safe to say I love my little girl more than ever. And even though I am getting a little too big and clumsily pregnant to bend and lay her as smoothly in the crib as I once did and have done thousands of times, I will still rock her and hold her as much as she needs. That’s what this mama’s arms will always be for.

Our girl is big. She jumps and runs. She dips her food in various sauces. She climbs and dances and mimics what we do. She can wash her own hair and tummy and face in the bath. She jockeys her pink horse, Bubblegum, and her lamb, Chops, crazily fast (where is she going?)

And, I think I can say we’ve finished breastfeeding. The view above, the one I’ve had for so long of a sated, content, sleeping baby, is no more. I didn’t know the last time was the last time, but it’s worked out that way. She’s breastfed once in the past five days, I think. Wow. So much of my time has been devoted to holding and rocking and nursing.

The past few months I have savored that time, knowing, instinctively, that it was coming to a close. Worried that without that be-all-end-all trick in my bag (bra?), she’d never calm down and go to sleep. And a few times, it has been really challenging. But it’s definitely been more emotional on me, than it has on her. So much that, admittedly, I’ve cried a few times, struck by the sudden-ness of the way my baby, who always has nursed herself to sleep in my arms, has grown up. Remembering how, on the day I first met her, she wasn’t even coordinated enough to figure it out. Reflecting on the times it felt burdensome that she would never take a bottle and annoyed that I was always the one to get her back to sleep at night. Thinking of all the cities and places we’ve breastfed. And now, feeling guilty that I’m denying her something healthy that she still likes and needs. Would I have continued longer or weaned more slowly if I was not pregnant again? We’ve been blessed that she’s always been incredibly healthy…only a handful of colds and no infections or fevers or anything. Am I going to ruin our track record by stopping? I don’t know. But I have to let go and trust that I have given her a wonderful start to life and done my absolute best. That this is another milestone.

So, I am feeling proud and heartbroken, lucky and bewildered, and amazed at the way it all has worked for us. It’s safe to say I love my little girl more than ever. And even though I am getting a little too big and clumsily pregnant to bend and lay her as smoothly in the crib as I once did and have done thousands of times, I will still rock her and hold her as much as she needs. That’s what this mama’s arms will always be for.

— 7 notes ()
Sep
30th
Fri
My sweet girl quietly turned 14 months old almost a week ago. How she’s grown and changed so much is beyond me. How so much kiddo can be packed into 18.6 pounds is nuts. She’s working on four big teeth right now, so we’ve had some rough nights and experienced a very clingy Rosie during the days. One of the most frustrating things as of late, is that she understands SO much, but can’t talk much yet. She says: Mama, Dada, Baby, Third, and tries to sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” But, she can understand a ton. Just off the top of my head: Book. Drink. TV. Chair. Rock. Shake. Dance. Clap. Sit. Dog. Cat. Cow. Woof. Brush. “Let’s go.” Shoes. Socks. Feet. Toes. Nose. Grandma. Grandpa. Pants. Muffin. “Come here.” Breakfast. Dinner. Hug. Kiss. Book. Bath. Rosie. My favorite is when you say, “Go get your juice!” She will immediately stop what she’s doing and, like a heat-seeking missile, head off to find her drink. There’s probably more. It amazes me how much she comprehends. Kids really are sponges.  She loves being outside, playing with rocks and getting dirty in puddles. Dogs. Dressing herself up in clothes. Watching her show, 3rd and Bird. Dancing like a crazy fool (she recently added spinning to her moves). Climbing everything and anything that’s higher than herself. Music and playing the piano. Juice boxes. Macaroni and cheese. Feeding people. iPhones. Reading (especially “Twinkle Twinkle.” And all sorts of little games and activities that only she understands (like moving rolls of toilet paper from under the sink to the top of the cabinet, or putting toys into the dryer).  And she loves to help. Ever had a tot unload your dishwasher or fold clothes or sweep the floor? Yeah, not so helpful, in the end. We’re beyond crazy about her. It seems like every day that passes, there is something new to love about her.

My sweet girl quietly turned 14 months old almost a week ago. How she’s grown and changed so much is beyond me. How so much kiddo can be packed into 18.6 pounds is nuts. She’s working on four big teeth right now, so we’ve had some rough nights and experienced a very clingy Rosie during the days.

One of the most frustrating things as of late, is that she understands SO much, but can’t talk much yet. She says: Mama, Dada, Baby, Third, and tries to sing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

But, she can understand a ton. Just off the top of my head: Book. Drink. TV. Chair. Rock. Shake. Dance. Clap. Sit. Dog. Cat. Cow. Woof. Brush. “Let’s go.” Shoes. Socks. Feet. Toes. Nose. Grandma. Grandpa. Pants. Muffin. “Come here.” Breakfast. Dinner. Hug. Kiss. Book. Bath. Rosie. My favorite is when you say, “Go get your juice!” She will immediately stop what she’s doing and, like a heat-seeking missile, head off to find her drink. There’s probably more. It amazes me how much she comprehends. Kids really are sponges. 

She loves being outside, playing with rocks and getting dirty in puddles. Dogs. Dressing herself up in clothes. Watching her show, 3rd and Bird. Dancing like a crazy fool (she recently added spinning to her moves). Climbing everything and anything that’s higher than herself. Music and playing the piano. Juice boxes. Macaroni and cheese. Feeding people. iPhones. Reading (especially “Twinkle Twinkle.” And all sorts of little games and activities that only she understands (like moving rolls of toilet paper from under the sink to the top of the cabinet, or putting toys into the dryer).  And she loves to help. Ever had a tot unload your dishwasher or fold clothes or sweep the floor? Yeah, not so helpful, in the end.

We’re beyond crazy about her. It seems like every day that passes, there is something new to love about her.

— 3 notes ()
Aug
27th
Sat

(From top to bottom: After just waking up; playing with her favorite toy, “Otter Pop”; Eating mac & cheese; Done eating and wanting OUT; Sitting in a deep fryer; Riding a giant turtle pool toy; Eating at Taco del Mar with Grandma Jane; All snug after a bath)

Our darling girl is 13 months old…as of two days ago! She’s growing up so fast and her personality cracks me up.

Likes: Juice boxes, her seal-on-a-stick toy, playing dress-up, mariachi music, macaroni and cheese, riding in her wagon, ransacking cupboards and boxes, splashy baths, dancing and stomping, climbing stairs (she can go both up AND down), opening doors, being outside, dogs, touch-and-feel books, Third and Bird, breastfeeding, hitting dada, brushing her hair, hammering, climbing in the open dishwasher, bites of ice cream, rocks, falling asleep on mama.

Dislikes: Sitting in her high chair, being restrained in her car seat or stroller, cow’s milk, when mom gets in the shower, having her diaper changed, having things taken away, brushing her teeth, cupboard locks, outlet covers, restaurants.

— 4 notes ()
Jul
27th
Wed

Zeus’ beard!! How do I have a one-year-old? This concludes her monthly portraits (these were taken the morning of her birthday), which have gotten really tricky the past few months, due to her unwillingness to hold still for even a second (she’s almost running!)

It’s so hard to believe how much she’s grown and changed. It startled me the other day when I was carrying her, and I realized her feet were bumping against my knees. She’s that long, when her whole body used to fit between my wrist and crook of my elbow. It took all of minutes for her to fill my life with new purpose when she was that size. And a year for me to realize my heart has no limit on its capacity to expand.  

I thought I might write down some developmental things. But there are so many facets to her personality, it’s impossible to list. But, to be sure, she is the funniest little thing. I get to see her dance every day, have her try to shove handfuls of lettuce into my mouth from my salad plate, get up in the night to rock her back to sleep, ride so seriously in her wagon, bravely go down the slippery slid, point out her dad’s nose, give sloppy kisses, play chase, and laugh so hard she has to catch her breath.

I’m also pleased we’ve made it a full year breastfeeding. It’s been a privilege, and it’s an honor to be this kid’s mother. As always, I cannot wait for what’s next.

— 11 notes ()
Jun
27th
Mon

Eleven! Eleven has been a very big month for our little lady. She’s changed so much in the past few weeks. She walks proficiently now and there’s no stopping her. She has more hair, she has an affection for bears, she’s started eating more real food (she always smells like cheese puffs and strawberries), she’s perfected pushing shopping carts, she seems to enjoy reading more (instead of just trying to rip the books), she learned to pet the dogs, wave hello, say “hi!” and so much more. She started not just taking things apart, but putting them back together. Not just taking balls out of a box, but putting them back in. She learns so fast.

She seems bigger and older to me every day. Definitely a toddler, crashing around, opening cabinets and drawers and pulling everything out, scaling the stairs, trying to wander outside to play in the rocks. I spend most of my days trying to coral her and not let her acquire any new bruises, and I’ve seriously considered buying her a helmet. 

She’s so sweet and adorable. There’s so much personality packed into such a tiny person, it’s unbelievable. I can’t believe my baby turns one in less than a month!

— 11 notes ()
Feb
25th
Fri

Dear Rosie Bear,


Ohmygosh! You’re seven months old today. As I write this, you are sitting next to me in your high chair. A pile of toast, pineapple slices and a banana in front of you. You are babbling away and chewing on the wrong (peel-end) of the banana. It’s ok, sometimes that happens. The way you eat is a metaphor for your personality. You want to explore, feel, smush, bang together. You want to do things for yourself. Heaven forbid I try to spoon-feed you anything. Speaking of eating, some definite favorites have emerged. You love pita and hummus and will always accept a few mango slices. You enjoyed apple bran muffins, though after your five dirty diapers yesterday, I think we’ll cool it on the fiber intake for a while. Yikes!

I think this month has been particularly fun with you. You bloom a little more, and I fall in love a little more, every single day. A couple of weeks ago, you got quite mad when I took a spoon away from you. The following day you started crying when I peeled my MacBook cord from your little paws when it was on its way to your mouth. This is new…you already don’t want to take no for an answer. You love the dog. Dropping muffin on the floor for her to eat. Watching her yawn or shake makes you giggle. I try to think of what it must look like from your perspective. A huge, furry beast, 10 times your size wandering around above you. I suppose that would be funny. You can get in the crawling position, but don’t yet move forward. You still love to stand and bounce and you get stronger and more balanced by the day. You are close to pulling up, too. You love to pull my hair, and play with my necklace. Your hands are never still, even when you’re supposed to be falling asleep or nursing.

You’ve majorly turned up the talking dial. All day you make crazy sounds and babble non-stop. Sometimes you say something that sounds like a real word, but I haven’t heard a “mama” yet, so I’ll wait. However, your sounds do have meaning on their own. I can easily tell if you’re mad or frustrated or happy. You have never been one for cuddling or snuggling. Sometimes your dad does this thing we call “the forced cuddle,” where he jails you in his arms and holds you close. You do not like it very much, but it sure is cute. And there are times, when you are really tired usually, where you lean against me with your full weight and I get to kiss your head and feel like the luckiest mamma in the world.

You have preferences now. And when I walk into the room, you light up and bounce your body a little. You smile for your dad. Your arms reach up, ready for us to rescue you from your jumperoo or pile of toys. Despite being a cheeky little thing, I can tell you love us immensely and it makes me so happy. You know us.

I am sure all parents say this, but you are truly so intelligent and beautiful. I am proud of you, always.

Love,

Your mom

— 7 notes ()
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