Dear Paisley,

Just yesterday you turned seven-months old, and it occurs to me that you are now closer to turning one than you are to your birth date. It’s going so fast and I don’t know how to make it stop, or even pause. This week was Thanksgiving, your first. You had pumpkin, sweet potatoes and cranberries with apple. All homemade purees, of course! I’ve cried more in the past few days than I have in a long time because I’m so overwhelmed by how thankful I am for you. Back in the old days, when we still celebrated Thanksgiving with my family, we used to one by one go around the table each year and say what we were thankful for. If we’d done that this year, I would have named you. I’m so at a loss for words lately trying to summarize how I feel about you, what you mean to me and how deeply your presence has changed me. I marvel at your every movement and sound, and could get so lost in your deep blue eyes that I might not ever find my way back. This is what “they” were always talking about. This is what I longed for for so long.

This month, once again, I had to leave for a week for work. This time to New York and Grandma Lori stayed with you. I think the two of you got along just fine, and I know she enjoyed having you all to herself for an entire week! Each time I return home from a trip you have something to show off, and this time, you and daddy together had something to show off together. He spent his free time with you during my absence teaching you how to stand. Maybe not teaching, more like encouraging. You’ve been insistent on standing since you came home from the hospital, and here recently it’s all you want to do. You yell at us if you aren’t standing, and squeal with pure unadulterated delight when you’re doing it. You beam with a smile so large it’s hard to harness the pride you feel for yourself. Deservedly so, I say. Just before hitting your seventh month you stand. You can pull yourself up, you LOVE holding our hands and walking around, and you cruise along the furniture. You even transfer from one object to another, like from the coffee table to the sofa. It’s unbelievable. Your little legs just go! go! go! And you damn the man who tries to get in your way. When we visited Dr. H last week (following three days of fever that turned out to be nothing… and weighing a whopping 16 pounds!), we showed you standing, completely unassisted, and he was impressed, asking if you were nine months yet, and we replied that no, you weren’t quite seven months yet. Nice work, kiddo!

All of this to say that you show no interest in crawling. That action couldn’t be further from your plan of getting from A to Z. When we lie you on your belly, or you end up there from rolling around, it doesn’t take long for you to become completely annoyed with the situation and demand we flip you over. Sometimes it’s like watching a turtle flipped on its shell… and I giggle. Once I caught you lifted up on all fours and I about died! It was after a bath and I just kept screaming until you finally collapsed. And once again, you beamed with pride! You’ll roll around to get where you need to go sometimes, and you’ll spin in 360-degree circles grabbing different toys; but you always go back to standing.

You’re mobile and it’s exhausting. I feel like I can’t keep up with you… and you’re not actually walking on your own. I’m already daydreaming about the barricades I’m going to have to create to keep you contained. Although, I have a feeling, metaphorically speaking, that there won’t ever be a barricade strong enough to hold you in it.

Not only are your legs moving, but your mouth is moving. Lord help us! You are so full of ba-ba-ba, da-da-da, shrieks, screams, grunts, growls and other Paisley-isms that I have no doubt you’ll be a very verbal little girl. From these sounds it’s so easy to pick out your mood, opinion, demands or concerns. You’ve still yet to really figure out how to laugh. Once in a great while we’ll get a giggle or two out of you, but the rest of the time you express joy by growling. When you wake up, or are simply content, you have this teeny tiny sing-song voice that you just la-la-la yourself with. Your daddy and I agree that it’s hands down the best sound we’ve ever heard.

We hear these sounds when you call to us at 2am, or when you’re yelling at us 9pm. Why? Because suddenly you don’t want to sleep! What gives? We want to sleep. We love sleeping. You’ve always been on the same wavelength. And now? I can’t deal with this. I’ve always said bring on the poop-bomb diapers, the weird eating habits, the crying and the screaming but for the love of all things holy just let us all sleep! I keep telling myself it’s a brief phase, likely due to the recent time change, possible start of a new round of teething, or maybe a growth spurt. Whatever it is, I hope we’re able to move past it without anyone being harmed.

You spend most of your days hanging out with cousin Ellie. I can’t tell you how much I adore watching the two of you play together. The two of you love each other in a way I didn’t know was possible. You both ooze with excitement when you see each other and play so very well together. When Ellie walks in the house, you growl and start flapping your arms, while Ellie runs straight to you to hug you and kiss you. She has started calling you “joo-joon”. (Over Thanksgiving we spent time in OKC and cousin Emilee has started calling you “Fifi”.)

For as close as the two of you are though, Ellie did try to kill you. You were watching Jungle Book together one afternoon while I was working. Ellie had a plate of little apples to snack on and, being the generous sharer that she is, gave you one. Well, I thought it was only one. I watched her try to place it in your mouth and snatched it up, telling her we can’t feed you. Then I looked at you to see your mouth wide open and heard the struggling sound of your breathing, and my heart froze cold. You were choking. I could feel the apple sitting in your throat and tried to fish it out with my finger, but I couldn’t get to it. Panic-stricken I dialed 911 and began screaming “SHE’S CHOKING!” over and over. I can’t tell you how sick I felt inside, my skin cold and clammy and my muscles like Jell-O. Definitevely the worst moment of my life. I managed to gag you and make you throw up, no apple, but you were crying. At that point I just started yelling “IF SHE’S SCREAMING SHE’S BREATHING, RIGHT?!” And you were. By the time the three-person fire team arrived, followed by the three-person paramedic team, you were sitting on my lap smiling. I was shaking like a tree, crying and trying to collect myself. They checked you out and you were, of course, fine.

You continue to grow and amaze us in so many ways. You like to blow raspberries while I’m feeding you and shower us with pureed food. You like most things we’ve fed you, and for those you don’t, we simply add some mashed bananas and you’re good to go. You grow to be more beautiful by the day and I marvel at the fact that we made you. In a dish. In a lab. And then you grew inside of me. It’s quite bizarre when you think about it. Maybe this is why you’re so strong.

Jury is still out on whether or not your hair will be curly or red. I’m leaning toward auburn and straight. Only time will tell, and if it keeps growing at this rate, we should know soon!

I’m looking forward to finishing 2010 with you more than you know. And celebrating your next big milestone, no matter what it might be.

I love you, my buggy!

Mama

“You are the best thing, that’s ever been mine.”

A new Taylor Swift song came out last week, “Mine”, and as soon as I heard that line I thought of you. It’s so very true. Burn this house to the ground and everything in it, as long as I’ve got you (and that daddy man) I can’t think of a whole lot else I want or need.

Six months has never felt so brief, and yet so fulfilling, as it has with you. In the same amount of time that you’ve been here, we’ll be celebrating your first birthday. (Pardon me while I bawl my eyes out.) You’ve changed me and my life in such profound ways that if I tried I feel like I couldn’t find my way back to where I was even a year ago. Most of the time I wouldn’t want to. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have days where I’d willingly run back.

You’ve absolutely come out of your little baby shell this month. You’re funny! The faces and sounds you make crack me up! And while your BIG ADVENTURES are usually as simple as finding your ears (which you did), finding your tongue (which you did) or tasting a new food (which you did a lot of), they are some of the most thrilling moments. I love getting to experience all of it with you.

You now have two little teeth right in front. They are sharp as razors, and I know this because you were chewing my chin yesterday (I didn’t ask either) and you bit me. These teeth are used for gnawing absolutely anything you can get your little Barbie hands wrapped around (we call them that because you never open your fingers!). The teeth aren’t that essential to eating right now since it’s all liquified this or pureed that.

You have been the best little eater and I’ve so enjoyed making your food! You’ve tried: green beans, squash, zucchini, carrots, pumpkin, sweet potatoes, bananas and avocados. Pumpkin you didn’t love, so we mixed it with bananas, calling it “jack-o-nanners,” and you were into it then. Same with the avocados. Everything else you lap up like chocolate cake! When you get really excited about what you’re eating you blow raspberries and spray whatever is in your mouth all over yourself, us and anything else in your splatter path. You also eat cereal with pear juice every morning. The bottle is still your buddy. You come unglued when you see it, stick out your tongue, start “talking” and flapping your arms. When it’s close enough, you grab the bottle and pull it in to your mouth, and, if I happen to be tied up with work, you’ll curl up in your boppy and feed yourself. It’s the most bittersweet thing – I love curling up with you to feed you, and yet I love the freedom this is affording us.

Your other new trick is sitting up. All by yourself. No support. And you’ll do this for like half an hour. You play with your toys, pull on your feet and occassionally topple over. It makes me laugh every time. Once I’ve assessed your safety. Sometimes. You just look SO BIG sitting there!

Bath time has changed as a result of the sitting because now you don’t have to just lay there like a baby, you get to sit like a big girl! You love it! You splash so hard and squeal so loudly! You like having a toy or two to play with and if we’re in the tub with you we let you swim like a little froggy. You revel in bath time and if you could ask for them I think you would.

When we prop you up against the couch or a chair you’ll use your hands for support and stand on your own for several minutes. You look, and think you are, so big doing this! It’s your fave and I have no doubt you’ll take off walking any day now.

Your biggest adventure this month was camping. Camping is one of our favorite things to do and we were so excited to take you on this trip. I was nervous but you proved to be a truly happy camper and didn’t give us an ounce of trouble. You were too cute for words with your little stocking cap on your head and when you were all bundled up like a glow-worm in the tent. We forgot to pack our blankets (and it dipped into the 30s at night) so you were so much warmer than we were and I longingly looked at your fuzzy blankets and footy pajamas wishing someone had packed for me, too! Upon our arrival home you had a 102.5 fever. We’re still newbs, so we took you to the ER. The catheter they gave you was probably one of the most heart-wrenching, painful moments of my life and the nurses were so kind and so gentle but that was nothing in the face of that shrill, piercing scream. I wanted to hold you and never let you go. (PS there was nothing wrong with you)

Finally, we were on the eve of your first Halloween this month. I skipped the costume route and just dressed you up. Amen for Aunt Jenna, she made your big obnoxious tutu and aaaadorable spider bow! You were the belle of pumpkin patch we visited and were an absolute delight as we propped you, posed you and played with you.

You, my dear, are perfection. You are more fun each and ever day making it impossible to imagine it’s going to get better.

Love you Bug!

Mama

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!

Mama