Dear Paisley: Month 5

October 11th, 2010

Oh my dearest Paisley Joon. You have just plain sucked my spare time away. It no longer exists. Which is why we’re a week in to October and just like last month I’m only just now writing your letter. What I really, really hate about this is that I’m struggling to remember the things I want to say.Which is why right now I’m going to start making myself notes throughout the month so I can just fill in the blanks on the 27th. Hopefully that sticks.

The fact that I don’t have any spare time anymore doesn’t totally bother me. I spend that time with you now, and there’s no better time in the world. You light up when you see us, and we beam even brighter when we see you. The greatest 10 minutes of my ENTIRE day… 10 minutes out of a 24-hour cycle… is from the time I hear you first start chattering to yourself in your crib until your daddy and I are changing your diaper. That time in between is a bliss that makes a mojito on the beach feel like hell on earth. I positively love walking up to your crib and you make that horrifying suffocation sound that for now is how you express pure, unadulterated joy. You wiggle around in your “fuzzy” and then your daddy and I wrestle for who gets to scoop you up and suck in your warmth and smell that can only come from 11 hours of uninterrupted sleep. (Yeah, you heard me, 11 hours! Boom!) We snuggle and coo at each other… and then we change your diaper and the fairy tale is over. Not because of some villainous find in your diaper, but you start fussing and crying tell us to bug off and leave your undies alone.

This month you took your first road trip. Well, you’ve made several trips to OKC and back already, but we did an 8-hour road trip to Denver to see the Sanchezes. You were a dream. Better than I could have hoped for. You slept about five of the eight-hour drive and the few hours you were awake you were happy and pleasant. Part of keeping you content meant I drove and daddy sat in the backseat with you and the two of you watched DiggNation on the iPad. (We really are going to turn you in to a geek, aren’t we?) You were your typical happy cheery self for most of the trip, and per usual, when you were tired, hungry or dirty, you made sure everyone knew it.

We drove to the top of Mount Evans, a 14,000-foot mountain, visited mountain goats along the way, and then took in an epic view at the top. I was scared your ears would pop, but you never gave any indication that you were uncomfortable. And being the outdoor-loving girl that you are, you seemed to completely enjoy the time outside.

We also took you to your first OU football game, opening day for the 2010 season. The Denver OU club was hosting a watch party at a downtown bar. We’re classy parents, so it wasn’t your first trip to a bar. No big deal, right? Well, it was your first bar with 200+ screaming OU fans and you weren’t having any of it. Your daddy was adorably protective of you. I, on the otherhand, just wanted to watch the football game. When the first BOOMER! SOONER! volley occurred, you lost your mind and screamed hysterically. Sarah and Jeremy made a move to get checks while your dad and I hustled you out to the car. You were too adorable in your vintage OU onesie, jeans, and a custom-made red and white football bow from Aunt Jenna. I could have eaten you. PS – we won the game!

We survived another mommy trip away. Oma stayed with you and daddy for a week while I went to Utah to visit the Biggest Loser Resort. It was an amazing trip that was SO good for me in so many ways. I was away a painful eight entire days and I missed you so much that I cried myself to sleep a few nights. Thanks to Steve Jobs, we were able to “Facetime” each night. With the video chat on our phones you and I played peek-a-boo, talked, sang and made goggly eyes at each other. Short of being there to drink up your scent, it was as good as it gets. The ache in my heart only fueled my desire to kick all of those workouts and hikes in the butt so I could return to you a stronger, happier, healthier mommy. You are very much the driving force behind me running this half-marathon soon, I want you to be proud of me and I want to be a healthy role model for you. I’ve never been a runner, but because of you, I feel like I could scale mountains. And I’m working on it!

Right before I left for that trip we introduced veggies. I’m making your food and I couldn’t be more excited about this. I love cooking and this means I get to share that passion with you long before I have to cut up your fish tacos in teensy little bites. I steamed and pureed a big batch of squash, zucchini and carrots. All organic for a total of $7.54. For six weeks worth of food. Unreal. You’ve liked everything I’ve given you. In fact, you don’t just lacksadaisically lounge in your high chair waiting for a bite, you lunge for the spoon and screech between bites if I don’t shovel it in fast enough. You and I make a great feeding team, little mess, empty bowls. You and daddy on the other hand get frustrated with one another, make a big mess and even had an incident where he syphoned the squash into a straw and in to your mouth. Bizarre? Yes. Happen again? No.

Aunt Jenna and cousin Ellie moved to town at the end of August, so you’ve had a lot of time to get to know them. You and Ellie adore one another and it’s heartwarming to see the interaction the two of you share. You see each other each and every day of the work week, and on the days Ellie can’t come, I swear I can sense your longing for her. Why are you together so much? Because you share a sitter. Yes, mommy sprung for a nanny. We’ll call her “N” and we love her. She’s been an amazing addition to our home. For six hours a day you cuddle and play with her while I work. We share her with Ellie and the three of you have become fast pals. The first few times I handed you off you weren’t impressed, but now you light up when “N” arrives in the morning. Ideally I could spend all day with you, but mama’s gots bills to pay (namely, still paying for you!!) and I can’t work and bounce you on one knee. As much as I’d like to think I can. It’s not like I have to leave you somewhere though. “N” comes here, and I work downstairs in my office, so we’re only a few feet away. I can hear you giggling and playing during the day and it just makes my whole day better. When I need a squeeze or you need a cuddle, I can get to you in a matter of seconds.

The next one of these I write will be summarizing your sixth month and I want to cry saying that outloud. We measured you at roughly 14 pounds and 25″ long. You’re becoming a real person with a real personality. As much as I love it, I’d like you to just slow down.

Love you Chicky-Boom!