Archive for the ‘Paisley’ Category

Dear Paisley: Month 13

Thursday, June 9th, 2011

I’d better hurry up and write this before my fleeting memory fully escapes me. We’ve already blown right through your 13th month and are well in to your 14th. This age, 1-year old, is the best! I’m eating it up and loving every minute.

You are such a happy, agreeable, playful baby! How did we get so lucky? Even when you are “at your worst” I rarely threaten to abandon you and/or give you away. Your worst really isn’t that bad. I haven’t ever seen a tantrum, although a few of your dramatic crying fits were teetering on the edge.

Your vocabulary is just exploding! You’ll repeat nearly anything we say, and if you can’t quite grasp it you’ll “hum” the syllable cadence. Your first color is yellow, which surprisingly comes out very clear, something like “yeh-yo.” You can identify several body parts, calling them by name, including eyes, elbows, knees, ears, and hair. Water, crackers and bottle are the only foods you call by name, although you’re working hard on bagel, the staple of your morning routine. But “Eat!” you’ve gone down pat. You usually belligerently scream it at us.

I am loving watching your imagination grow. It’s amazing to me that at such a young age you’re already pretending, without any guidance whatsoever on the concept. You say “nigh nigh day-dee” when you pretend to put your baby (a Curious George doll) to sleep, and pound its poor back, trying to gently pat it. You have a tea pot set and you’ll bring the cups to me to fill each one, and then take it to daddy and you’ll each slurp up the invisible beverage; you’ll also have me pour the spout right in your mouth and you always go “Mmmm!”.

You’ve found a few of your very own hidey holes. One is behind a chair next to the wall, and you’ll stand in the apex of the V between the two, poke your face as far through as possible and wait for our faces to appear on the other side. You also like to crawl under the end table where we store your toy basket in the living room and sit cross-legged playing with your piano, dolls, books, or whatever else is under there.

Time outs have become a more regular occurrence, but you’re honestly so well behaved and that they are rarely put in to action. You fully understand what they are, and when you tell me “no no” to a request more than twice I ask “do you want to go to time out?” and you generally correct yourself. When you don’t, it’s off to the corner we go. It’s hard as hell not to laugh! Correction, it’s hard as hell not to let you see me laughing. It’s equally the funniest and most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever witnessed. You will throw your head back and wail, screaming “maaamaaaaa,” with big alligator tears streaming down your face, and ever few seconds you’ll inch further and further away from the corner. I always ask you to come to me so we can discuss what happen, and finish it with a kiss.

You’re becoming more particular about food. You’re pretty much a vegetarian at this point, refusing any chicken, pork, or beef that I’ve offered you. Once in a while you’ll take me up on a bite of fish, but otherwise it’s fruits, veggies, grains, and vegetarian protein, like black beans, cheese, yogurt, and of course milk. Your love of watermelon knows no bounds, and really the only fruit you’ll turn up your nose at is a banana. If you don’t like something, you very clearly say “no” and shake your head. If you like something, God save the man who gets in your way as your tiny fists shovel food in your mouth as fast as you can. You’ve started showing more interest, and skill, in feeding yourself with a fork or spoon, so daddy and I have tried to be better about ignoring the mess and letting you at it.

We also met up with Paul last month to take your one-year pictures. You were quite the ham for us, being quite the trooper as we made our way around the OU football stadium to take a picture in front of the section 1 sign, and then over to Reaves Park in Norman. However, the cake frosting hit the fan, if you know what I mean, when we attempted to make you take a picture with a birthday cake. You would have thought it was hot lava with a monster face on it the way you reacted. Thirty minutes of non-stop, tear-soaked wailing delivered not a single happy picture but plenty of you having what we’ll chock up to you first full blown panic attack. Seriously kid? It’s cake. If someone forced me to sit next to a double layer cake and devour it without any consequences… I’d cry if you tried to stop me.

I love you bug!


Dear Paisley: Month 12

Friday, May 13th, 2011

Happy 1st Birthday, Paisley Joon!

You have no idea how unreal those words are to me. To actually say them outloud, and to celebrate the event, seems impossible. But, even having you here at all once seemed impossible. So, your lesson of the day, nothing is impossible.

On the morning of your birthday, daddy and I congratulated each other on making it. And a deserved congratulations to you too, surviving the two idiots fumbling our way through keeping you alive. (PS, you’ve made it farther than any plant I’ve ever owned.) Of course, your birthday was doubly special, since you share with daddy. 31 and 1, you’re a little set.

We spent your actual birthday doing what we do every Wednesday… working. I was just heartsick that day. All I wanted was to snuggle you, but instead I had to interview castaway Biggest Loser contestants and tweet, and other very important things I do. You played with Jessica and Ellie all day, after I let you splurge on a watermelon-only breakfast! For dinner, you and I got dressed up and had a birthday dinner at Yia Yia’s, where you enjoyed whipped sweet potatoes and roasted chicken. And goldfish crackers.

The real party was April 30, and we had about two dozen friends and family join us for lunch, cake, and presents. You were surprisingly cooperative; I feared the crowd would overwhelm you, but you rolled with it. You were very involved with the opening of your presents. And when it came time for the cake smash, you were your usual dainty self, picking up a little frosting and eating it (Aunt Jenna and Aunt LaRenda made the most amazing watermelon cakes). Then, I smooshed your hand in to the cake and, well, that was the end of that little miss waterworks!

Having an entire year worth of months to look back on now, I can say for certain that 11 months was my favorite age. You’ve always had personality, but it’s on full display now. You have definite moods, tones in your voice, and are growing more particular about what you do and don’t like. With this, it seems your vocabulary grows exponentially each day. By your first birthday you could say more than two dozen words:
bye bye
no no
thank you
go go go
joon joon
see it (re: books)
la la la
all done
please (signed)
more (signed)

You are very playful and very funny. You greet daddy at the door after work and point to and say “shoes!” This is his signal to remove the shoes so you can begin “tickle tickle”-ing his toes. He feigns a hearty laugh so that you think you’re really getting him. (PS you’re obsessed with shoes! Obsessed!) You love to play chase and don’t mind be the chaser or the chasee. You’re pretty fast about it. You love to be held in our arms and throw yourself backward – all you’re missing is a bungee cord. You enjoy play kiss games – kissing us over and over and over again, making little fish-lip faces to let us know you’re ready for a kiss, or you pop-pop-pop your lips together (this is especially adorable when you do it throughout the grocery store).

We celebrated your first Easter the weekend before your first birthday. The night before we attended an Easter egg hunt at Grandma Lori’s church. It was a big crowd with quite a few kids and the rough grass sticking in to your ADORABLE pink flower sandals was less than favorable for you. You finally got the hang of collecting the candy out of the grass and putting it in your little basket. I felt no shame in snatching every Twix I could find. The next morning, we found that the Easter bunny had scattered eggs all over our backyard! What a surprise to wake up too! That bunny knows how healthy we are, so he obliged by filling the eggs with organic fruit snacks and quarters. We had a big breakfast with daddy, jenna/eric/ellie, and grandpa jerry/pam. Then, you and Ellie grabbed your baskets and collected all of the eggs. You were convinced they were balls (“ball! ball!”), which I encouraged because it just fueled your desire to pick them up and put in your basket.

We’ve officially celebrated all of the holidays with you, and your birthday, and are wrapping up your first year with a very tear-soaked pink ribbon. I’ve never loved anyone or anything more, Paisley Joon. I used to “yeah yeah yeah” my parents when they’d tell me the same, but it’s so true. You are everything I ever wanted, even when I had no idea what it really was I was wanting. If you could drink, I’d raise a glass and say “Cheers! We both survived!”, but you can’t (yet, we’ll wait until at least your 14th birthday). So, I’ll say that I couldn’t be more excited to see what year two is going to bring us, and that I’m anxious to watch you discover so much more about the world around you.

I love you bug-


I Tweeted My Daughter’s Birth

Tuesday, April 26th, 2011

I’d told a few friends leading up to Paisley’s delivery day that I was going to tweet the entire birth. They didn’t believe me. Just like they didn’t believe I was going to start a web site, ask for money, and talk about my ovaries. I’m a believable girl!

I just thought it would be fun to keep everyone posted on the goings on of the day. And because my Twitter automatically updates my Facebook status, many other friends and family, like my grandma, who couldn’t be at the hospital, we’re able to follow along, play-by-play.

What I realized the next morning is that I’d inadvertently given myself a priceless gift – a transcript of the day. The next morning, while Shelton and our hours-old baby slept, I went through my phone reliving the day one tweet at a time. There had already been moments I’d forgotten, and the chronology of the day was completely out of order in my head. I wish this were a complete thread; we only started tweeting a couple hours in to the morning when friends requested a dedicated hashtag (#PaisleyJoon was born). I also don’t have any of Shelton’s tweets, nor the many, many replies with cheers, encouragement, and blessings. But I do have most of my tweets, and it’s something I treasure.

In light of Paisley’s first birthday being tomorrow, I thought it was fitting to clean up the list and republish it to share here.

(Note: all times are PST, add two hours for local time.)

Wishing my @Skoskie the happiest 30th birthday!! We’ll have to rain check that sushi lunch my love.

Filling out epic amounts of paper medical history. Seriously get some #EHR. ( ie @pulseehr) 5:53 AM Apr 27th

Mmmm breakfast! Virgin snocone. 6:03 AM Apr 27th

Started the petocin. 6:36 AM Apr 27th

Broke my water. At a three. Fetal monitor in place. 7:23 AM Apr 27th

Damn these contractions are not cool. 8:18 AM Apr 27th

Ps I’m starrrrrrving!!! 8:19 AM Apr 27th

Wow. Getting her into the bathroom and back is quite the logistical undertaking. (via @skoskie) 8:52 AM Apr 27th

Resident checked me at a SEVEN but second opinion still says three. Getting pain meds. 9:02 AM Apr 27th

I don’t want to fill out your stupid birth plan. Get baby out alive, that my plan. I dt care if u make eye contact or if I hv piture water. 9:09 AM Apr 27th

Ahhhhh yeah. Thank you for the newbane(?). Pain meds are niiiice. 9:32 AM Apr 27th

That was a big contraction. 9:50 AM Apr 27th

Shelton is so proud of his signs. 10:07 AM Apr 27th

#paisleyjoon will be our hash for birth watch, or whatever we are calling this @jeremysanchez @bowlerjim 10:44 AM Apr 27th

Dilated 3.5 #paisleyjoon 10:45 AM Apr 27th

Babys heart rate has dropped to 70 couple times. She is ok seems to be when I chg positions. Precaution did epidural. #paisleyjoon 12:03 PM Apr 27th

Really hard decide to do epidural. Few tears. Procedure was brutal!!!! @skoskie was amazing. Now I’m trap bed and numb. #paisleyjoon 12:05 PM Apr 27th

Dilated 4. #paisleyjoon 12:06 PM Apr 27th

Took a mini nap after kicked out all the fam. ;) felt good. #paisleyjoon 1:02 PM Apr 27th

Heart drop again. So scary but no one concern bc isolated incidents. #paisleyjoon 1:04 PM Apr 27th

Kegal with epidural.. Odd, funny, impossible. Lol!! #paisleyjoon 1:08 PM Apr 27th

Dilated 5. Dreaming of chicken strips from pumphouse. #paisleyjoon 1:23 PM Apr 27th

The only reason I know contracts bc monitor. Feel nothing. They look big Makes sad bc they weren’t that terrible. #paisleyjoon 1:30 PM Apr 27th

4:15 I was six. 5:00 I’m nine. #paisleyjoon 2:56 PM Apr 27th

I’m a ten. Talk to you when I’m a mom. ( tears) #paisleyjoon 3:10 PM Apr 27th

Introducing Paisley Joon Koskie!!! Perfectly healthy. 7lb 7oz 18″ at 7:05pm. #paisleyjoon 5:42 PM Apr 27th

Dear Paisley: Month 11

Thursday, April 7th, 2011

Dear Paisley-

You turned 11 months old today. I know I say this every month but this time more than the others it really does seem impossible. A month from today we’ll wake up on your first birthday. If I really stop and look back, of course it’s been a year. We’ve celebrated every holiday, birthdays of friends and family, and we’ve flipped the calendar all the way back around to April. But when I just look at you, the impact you’ve already made on me, it was yesterday.

I rocked you to sleep tonight. I do this most nights, daddy takes the others. As long as you have a bottle, your fuzzy, and those five quiet minutes, you’ll sleep like a dream. I sat in the same chair I rocked you in the day you came home, and tonight it struck me how your long, chunky legs flopped over the arms. Not a tiny nugget any more.

This month you kind of stopped being a baby. Of course you’re still a baby, but in so many ways you’ve tossed that aside and are getting your feet wet as a toddler. You are so busy. I don’t think there’s a better way to sum you up right now, you’re just busy. You’re in to everything, you’re curious, you’re going, you’re coming… it’s non-stop all day and all night. You’re on a solid one nap a day, which for me, your sitter “J”, and anyone else who is responsible for you is a curse, but you honestly manage just fine. Once in a while we’ll sneak a second nap in, but it’s not often.

You’ve been walking for two full months now and your command of the skill is uncanny. I honestly keep expecting to see you run across the room. If a door is shut, you push it open and just walk on through. Like this morning, a lazy Sunday, when our bedroom door was cracked and you whipped it open and walked to the living room. Apparently it was time to wake up. The third drawer down in the kitchen is where we keep the bibs. You know this. And you’ll spend an hour opening the drawer, pulling out the bibs, delivering them to various people and places, and then rounding them up so you can close the drawer… only to start all over again. You also like to open the pantry door and rummage in the Dr. Pepper boxes on the floor. So far you’ve successfully carried out a can of soda, as well as pulled down a box of Bisquick from the second shelf and carried it through the house.

Your speech and communication is the thing that has really flourished this month. You shake your head “no” – and you mean it. You furiously shake back and forth when we ask you a question that deserves a negative reply. You say your version of  “thank you” when someone hands something to you, and you also rub your belly for “please” when you ask for something. You almost always do this without any kind of prompting. Check out the manners on my baby! You say “eat!” and point to your mouth – you do this when I ask you if you want to eat (otherwise you shake your head) or if I ask you if you’re hungry. You very clearly say “hi” to anyone who will listen, and usually accompany it with a wave. You can say “shoes” and say this when you bring yours or our shoes to us (you love to play with them!). You also get what “going bye-bye” means and are always agreeable to the suggestion. Just this week you started repeating “nigh-nigh” when we tell you it’s time for bed. Other words I think you’re working on are “book” and “ball.”

You’ve started expressing love this month. For instance, this morning I woke up to four voluntary kisses from you. FOUR! Oh my how you made my day start out in the most perfect way. I always have to ask for a kiss, you rarely oblige, I usually end up saying “I’ll steal it anyway!” Sometimes you oblige and lean in with an open mouth and plant your lips on mine. Ahh, it’s the best! But you offered them up to me, daddy, your bee baby and even that llama in red pajamas all day. You give lots of hugs. You and daddy started a game called “BIG HUGS!” He sits on the floor and you “run” to him and he scoops you up in a big bear hug. You both eat it up. You also blow kisses. You plant your hand on your mouth, but it doesn’t pull away. Instead you lick the inside of your hand (little weirdo). But when someone is leaving you either wave bye-bye to them, or blow them your version of a kiss.

You are eating like a horse! Thankfully, you aren’t eating horse. You’ve completely boycotted baby food; so much so that I gave away all of your remaining stock to a friend whose baby is still acting like a baby (lucky!). When your sitter “J” said that you refused to eat anything off a spoon, I realized she was right. You love feeding yourself, and I honestly don’t have a problem with it. I get to eat now! I can also put you in your chair and cook dinner, clean, or just get some work done. It’s nice to have reclaimed a bit of that freedom. Your favorite, and I mean hands down favorite, right now is watermelon. I buy a quarter watermelon at the store every week. You absolutely inhale it – to the point you get those chipmunk cheeks, can’t chew, and there is pink juice running down your arms and chin. All the while smiling.

You also really enjoy mozzarella cheese, avocados, peas, applesauce, carrots, yogurt, blackberries and raspberries, bagels, toast, graham crackers, and pears. Pinto beans and rice from Chipotle also make the list. You are such a good eater, I feel so lucky. You really don’t refuse anything, except meat, and frankly I’m OK with that for now. You do really well with a sippy, and so far all we’ve put in it is water. Why would this bother you? You don’t know any different. Until you do, it’s always going to be water. Your friends will probably hate coming to our house, but kiddo, there are just too many good-for-you foods out there to fill you and our kitchen than with the crap that none of us need.

We had a very exciting event on Friday. You shot a vignette commercial for Johnson & Johnson for their natural line of products. It’s basically you and me, with you playing in the bath, and then me cuddling you up into a towel. It took an entire day, you were very patient, and we had a lot of fun. You were a little confused about why you were in and out of the tub a few dozen times, but other than that you didn’t really get fussy and you played right along like it was normal. You were pretty funny during scenes- you’d wave to the cameramen or you’d play with the boom. I don’t know if you’ll hate me for this one day or not, but I promise I only did it because I thought it would be fun. I didn’t even know we’d be paid for it when we signed on, and I’m very happy to be putting it in full in your college account.

When I left for college I had $500 in cash and no idea what the hell I was doing. For that matter, my parents didn’t know either. It makes me proud on an indescribable level that at 11 months old you already have more than twice that amount waiting for you. Your education, even on a level of teaching you where your nose is, is of utmost importance to your dad and I. It’s something we talk about frequently, and the one thing we absolutely will not sacrifice.

Wow, I’m getting deep in here. You have turned in to a little person this month Paisley. Lucky for all of us, a person we really, really like. You make us laugh; like, the kind of laugh I usually pay good money at the theater to see. Your funny little faces, sounds, and mannerisms just kill me. I love watching the curiosity on your face and how you explore. And while it might sound a bit mean, I love seeing you frustrated with something – like a toy you really want being stuck in the basket and watching you work it out on your own until you successfully retrieve it. You always look so proud of yourself. I love your high-fives, the way you “tickle-tickle” my toes, and I love the way you reach for me when no one else in this world will do. One day, that won’t be the case, but I’ll remember that there was a time when I was your end-all, be-all. You will always be that for me.

I love you my bug. My very, very, big girl bug.


Dear Paisley: Month 10

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

Walking…Talking… Oh little girl you are rocking!

Sorry for the super lame rhyme but I couldn’t help myself. I mean, your two biggest accomplishments this month rhyme!

Yes, you are walking. Last month you started and it was a wobbly adventure. Now? Holy balls Paisley you don’t stop moving! Ever! Everywhere you go your arms are straight up in the air as if you’re constantly being held up for the Cheerios you keep nestled in each hand at all times. Sometimes there is a toy in one hand, sometimes there is a toy in both hands. You have such a command of the upstairs that I honestly don’t worry about you. You cruise in and out of the living room to the kitchen, your bedroom, over to the dining room and back again. If I can’t find you, odds are you’re perched right in front of your bookshelf, which you ransack on a daily basis (right after cleaning out my purse and wallet).

You love books! It warms my heart to a point you can’t possibly understand to see you loving your books. I was the same way, and as an esteemed member of my first grade class’s bluebird reading group (ahem, read “advanced”) I hope to welcome you in to the club of the word-proficient. (PS, numbers are for losers and you really don’t need them. I mean, what can you spell with a number? NOTHING! Unless you spell “BOOBIES” upside down on your calculator.) You will walk in to your room and always come walking out with a book in your hand. You bring it to us and have this adorable look in your eyes just begging us to read it. Of course, we always do. And after that one, there comes another. Katie Duck, The Belly Button Book, Goodnight Moon and The Goodnight Book are a few of your faves. On the rare occasion that you bring The Runaway Bunny (which is going in our next garage sale) I hide it and select a different book.

You are starting to talk. I absolutely love it! I had this enlightening moment the other day when I realized you were actually talking to me. You were just squawking and standing under my legs. Exhausted, I just kept going “What?!” Then, I realized, it was a completely different behavior for you. The way you were touching my leg, the way you were screaming, it was so unlike you. So I looked down and said “Are you hungry,” and you responded “yuh!” Umm, we just had our first Q&A. I handed you a graham cracker and off you toddled as content as could be. We really are going to get along just fine.

Words you definitely say are “uh-oh,” your first word; “daddy,” which comes out sounding like “die”; “yes” and “no”; it’s entirely possible you’re saying “thanks.” You’re signing “all done” and this has become invaluable! In fact, in the last couple of days you say “duh” while you do it, which thrills me that you’re using the sign with a word, or at least your version of the word. You usually bat your spoon away and fling food all over everyone when you’re finished eating, but now you just throw your hands in the air and wiggle your fingers. And you know what? If I try to put one more bite in your mouth you shake your head and put your hands in front of your face. In other words, you mean it. Done means done.

Those hands of yours are busy. There is so much you do with them these days, more signs that you and your world are becoming so much more acquainted. When we go to retrieve you from your crib in the morning, you look at us with almost panic in your eyes and scurry to grab your “fuzzy,” your favorite blanket, and tuck it under your arm. You will not vacate the crib without the fuzzy.

You have started mimicking the motions for “Itsy, Bitsy Spider.” As soon as I start singing it you put your first fingers and thumbs together and do this little wiggly dance with your hands. When we’re done you clap. You also clap along with “Happy and You Know it.” You clap when we say “yay!” and you clap when you just feel like something is really great! You wave hi and bye, but seem to prefer waving bye. You also get the biggest kick out of turning light switches off. In fact, your daddy and I always let you turn off the nursery light after a diaper change, and this seems to be an agreeable treat for the trauma we put you through. Because, having someone wipe poop off of your bum it’s so awful… for you.

What has been awful for you this month is your cold. It’s a virus that, much like the carrier monkeys who’ve gone before you, has infiltrated our entire home. You and daddy had it the worst, with both of you on antibiotics. Clearly I’m the strongest of the three of us and I was only brought to my knees with skull-pounding headaches and a sore throat that lasted two weeks and felt like I swallowed a softball.

We’ve also discovered an allergy. You broke out in hives one Saturday night and by that Monday morning they had not only not gone away but gotten worse. Everyone has their money on tomatoes or antibiotics. I for one hope it’s not tomatoes. I mean, what kind of life would you have if you couldn’t eat salsa? Or that pasta with roasted tomatoes at Yia Yia’s. These, my love, are what we tend to refer to as “white girl problems.” I’m going to do my best to raise you in such a way that you recognize what the real “what kind of life” problems are, and to enjoy your life enough to have a few of the insignificant problems as well.

I swear you do something everyday that’s new. This week you learned high-fives with Grandma Rochelle and have started mimicking when I blow kisses. You even like to give me kisses and I swear my heart falls apart every time you do it. I want to brag about you to everyone I meet. You are so smart! You are so funny! You are gorgeous!

Just as I’m trying to avoid the “countdown of doom” to my 30th birthday, I’m also trying not to treat your upcoming 1st birthday the same way. These should be celebrations, not mourning the time that is slipping lickety split out of my hands. So, I do everything I can every day to just soak you up. I can’t remember it all. What I’ve shared here is such a minuscule recap of who you are, however, it perfectly summarizes the exciting month we’ve had together.

This weekend we’re off to celebrate your first Ayyam-i-ha with the Koskies in Oklahoma City, complete with your first holiday-themed craft project as a gift to Oma and Papa.

(This pic is me at 7 months and you at 9 months wearing the dress that my great great grandma Kelly made. She was your great great great grandma.)

This, my love, is what we call the good life.

I love you bug-


Dear Paisley: Month 9

Monday, January 31st, 2011

Dear Paisley-

This has been the month for milestones. You have been non-stop this month and I’m exhausted trying to keep up. They should make baby book pages with legal-sized paper so I can squeeze it all in there.

For starters, in the past four weeks you have gotten four new teeth. That top gumline is really filling out! This round of teething has definitely been harder on you than the previous two were, but it hasn’t killed any of us yet so it can’t be that bad. You know who has died though? Baby bunnies. Ribbon-lined baskets full of them. Why? Because you won’t stop grinding those six adorable little teeth together! I haven’t actually said this outloud to you, but I definitely think it. I have, outloud, threatened to have your teeth removed. After all, you’re going to lose those eventually anyway. With six teeth I assume they need to be brushed, and the dentist agreed, so he sent me home with a tiny little Winnie the Pooh pink toothbrush this week. So far you like chewing on it and getting used to the feeling in your mouth. Soon we’ll start making it part of your regular routine.

All those teeth are making it a lot easier to eat! Your world has really opened up with food this past month. After “The Apple Incident”, I’ve been reluctant to give you whole bites of food, but you’ve proven to take them like a champ. Blueberries, blackberries, eggs, bread and even macaroni noodles have found their way on to your tray and in to your belly. The hit or miss ratio of Cheerios to floor versus mouth has greatly improved and I’m not vacuuming nearly as often! I think I made the very last batch of pureed food this month. By the time this freezer-full is wiped out, you’ll be ready to eat like the big kids.

You do a lot of things like big kids do these days. Why I’m burying this in the fourth paragraph I’m not sure, it deserved a neon starburst banner at the top of the page.


No big deal, you only started that at 8.5 months old. Oh wait, that’s NOT NORMAL! One night while Grandma Lori was visiting, you stood with one hand on my knee, and just took off. You toddle-toddle-toddle here to there and back and over there and around this all the time. It’s thrilling and exciting and I’m bursting with pride for you, and I’m also sad that I can’t lay you down somewhere and come back to find you in the exact same spot. Now, you chase us. If we leave the room you yell at us and then crawl and/or walk until we reunite. You like to follow us in to the kitchen and then stand at the dishwasher splashing in the dirty water (so gross!) or poking and prodding the soap lid or the jetdry button.

Your curiosity is endless and I love how I can actually see it in your expressions. The way you tilt your head, open your eyes and even the sounds you make, I can actively see you trying to learn and figure things out. I’d love to know what it is you’re wondering, but you’re quicker to let us in on the secret.

Not only did you start walking this month, but you’ve started clapping. They are the tiniest little claps and they don’t create any sound but they are just as sweet as they could be. You’ll even clap along when I sing “If You’re Happy and You Know it.” You’re waving hi and bye. It’s entirely possible that you said “Bye” the other day. Out of no where you raised your arm to wave and said “Bah!” Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. You’re also starting to put your hand on your own mouth to make the ba-ba-ba sound and you think it’s hilarious. I’ve also caught you dropping things and saying, consistently, what sounds exactly like “uh-oh!”.

You are still just a ball of joy when you wake up in the morning, so talkative and singsongy and playful. You’re a danger to yourself if left alone in our bed, so we keep a small supply of toys on the floor for you to play with while we get ready in the morning. Although, you just follow us in to the bathroom and cruise along the tub anyway, trying to eat tea light candles. We, however, are less joyful when you wake up. Because your 7:30 wake-up call is the second or third time we’ve seen you since you went to bed… at the unholy hour of 9 or 10 at night. I know you’re teething, and I’m praying that that’s the only reason for your sudden refusal to sleep through the night, but kid, you’ve gotta give me a break.

I’m tired to a point that I’m nauseous, all the time. I ache, I’m grumpy, I’m short-tempered and lethargic. I want and need to have the energy to keep up with you, and to keep up with my day, but at this rate, you’re going to have to start changing your own diapers and making your own bottles because I’m going to be in a coma in a closet soon. Nevertheless, midnight snuggles or morning snuggles, I soak them up, one and all.

Enough about me! What about you? You get better each and every day. I cannot believe it’s been nine months. The shortest amount of time that has taken you from a teensy weensy baby, to a fun, silly, happy, playful baby girl, who doesn’t have a whole lot of baby left in her. This morning we went to your nine-month check-up and before we left Dr. H said the words I’ve been dreading: “See you at 12 months!”. It’s really just weeks away, 12 of them to be exact, and you won’t be a baby anymore.

I do love you my bug.