Santa 2012 (aka Parenting Fail of 2012)

 My little man did such a stellar job waiting to see Santa. The line was 30+ minutes. No big deal for him (except for the last 3 minutes of course). He waited patiently to tell Santa that he wanted "tucks and cars" for Christmas. B and I were happy with what seemed like a non-fearful 2 year old as he bashfully approached the big man. He sat nicely, smiled (sort of), and collected his reindeer antler hat.

Not 3 feet from Santa he entered full on meltdown mode. Tears and snot and slack body and running from us and crying "cars and tucks, mama! cars and tucks!" as I tried to waddle after him in a busy mall. And it was then that I remembered that I don't tell anything exciting to my 2 year old until itwillhappenwithoutadoubtinabout2seconds.

But Santa? Santa forgot to give him his "cars and tucks." Trying to explain the concept of time ("buddy, Santa has to go make your cars and truck" "Teddy, we have to wait for Santa to brings cars and trucks to our house on Christmas") to a tantruming, hungry, and now tired 2 year old? Impossible. Listening to his disappointed cries for most of the 30 minute ride home? Heartbreaking.

Thus commences the parenting fail of 2012. And then we did what any guilt-stricken parents would do. We took him to get pizza. And we all felt better.


(For comparison, here is the pic from last year. This comparison gets me every time! He looks so little boyish now!)

The weight of it all

Sometimes it feels so heavy. The weight of love; yours and mine.

It is heavy when the day to day dependency wears on me. To have someone so reliant demands I be totally selfless. But I am human, and I am not totally selfless.

It is heavy when you make one more request. To hear your voice, that I can't remember not knowing, demands that I listen when I crave silence.

Sometimes it feels so light. The weight of love; yours and mine.

It is featherweight when your eyes search for me in a crowd of parents and children at the park. To see you so small in the world calls forth in me a protectiveness I have towards no one else.

It is featherweight when you gently turn the pages of a book and tell me a story. To watch you grow, moment to moment, feels like a stolen blessing.

Oh how life keeps reminding me that love changes, it grows. It demands and it frees. It is so heavy and so, so light.

Lately

 Lots of outside time

 

Fun with Mama's new phone

Christmastime!

Overheard

Teddy:  Truck sad, Mama.

Me:  Oh yeah? The truck is sad?

Teddy:  Yes. Truck put the tears down.

Filed under "cute toddler quotes" and "where did he get that" and "isn't it amazing how we learn"

Thankful Thursday

For amazon.com

For fuzzy socks

For quiet trains

For photoshop

For preparations

Overheard

Last night at the dinner table

B: Teddy, what should we name baby sister?

Teddy: Two!!

B: We should name baby sister "two"?

Teddy: Noooo....three!!

B: Three?!?

Teddy: Noooo....Four!!

B: We can't name baby sister a number!

B and I resume normal adult conversation for approximately 2.1 minutes, then...

Teddy: Mr. Noodle!

Me: We should name baby sister "Mr. Noodle"?!

Teddy: Yeah!!

Thankful Thursday

For fall

For flat shoes

For quiet days

For hot tea

For libraries

Dear Baby a,

I woke the other night out of a dead sleep, chilled to my bones, breathless. The nightmare echoed in my head, behind my eyes. It was about you, little girl. It was a fear-filled, vivd nightmare about some of the most horrible things that could happen to a little girl.

So I laid awake for a while and let the fear of all the nastiness and ugliness in the world just sit beside me. The nastiness chided me, "how will you ever protect that innocent little girl from my horror?" "You know you will not be able to be with her every second of every day." "You have heard, firsthand in confidential rooms, countless stories of horror upon horror."

I was blindsided by the differences of what it will mean to be a mother to a daughter and a son. But as the nastiness sat there, cackling at my mother's heart, I found new strength. I became even more aware of all the things I want to see you learn, as a girl and a woman.

How to be proud of your femininity. How it is a sign of strength, not weakness. How you can be powerful and gentle. How to be resilient.

How to speak to any nastiness that sits by your bed in the darkest hours. And how to find rest.

Love,
Mom

Bumps

 Sometimes you just have to bump it out.

2 Years

Somehow, against all my disbelief, you are two years old. This year you have gone from first words and first steps to running and sentences. It's amazing how quickly and yet how slowly some of these changes happen. I feel lucky to have modern media to record random daily snippets of your voice at 14 months, the way you couldn't quite pronounce the "sh" of "shoes." And yet today you say this word perfectly. When did that happen? I don't know. I missed the day, the moment you could. Most likely I was there, but oh my baby boy, how these things pass by so quickly.

This year you have challenged me to be even more patient than last year. You have challenged me to know where the balance is between you, me, and our family - whose needs come first right in this moment? You have challenged me to be more silly, to be more present, to expect both less and more (of myself, of you).

I don't have 24 things to say this month. Instead, I have 24,000 times the amount of love I had for you the moment you were born. Somehow, against all the logic I thought I understood, you have shown me how love grows each day.

At 24 months old, you tell stories. You still love being outside. You play with your toys, like actually play with them (you motion your little people to climb aboard the bus and will say "up, up, up, ok, bye bye!"). You laugh with pure joy. You furrow your brow when reading books. You can climb and descend steps completely unassisted. You have asked baby sister to come out of mama's belly. You point out letters on any sign or vehicle. You love milk. You wrestle with increasing strength. You are starting to put your shoes on and off. You enjoy laying in your crib upon waking; you are a slow riser.

You know that your birthday consists of "presents and ice cream and 'Happy Birthday!'" And what a happy, happy day it is.

Overheard

Me: (silently pushing Teddy in the swing)

Teddy: Mama, Dada, Teddy go in big airplane!

Me: Mama and Dada and Teddy flew in a big airplane?

Teddy: Yes! (pauses for a minute, then adds) And big airport!

Me: Oh, yes, we were in the big airport.

Teddy: And rode in school bus!

Me: Yes, we rode in a school bus to get to the airport.

Filed under Teddy's First Story and Air Travel Blows the Mind and School Busses are Rad

Thankful Thursday

For cooler weather

For kind strangers

For hot drinks

For stickers

For paper towels

Dear Baby a,

My firecracker, my little jumping bean, my constant companion, you are ever present these days. Physically, you become more obvious by the day - my belly gets rounder and your kicks are now visible. You remind me to slow down, to savor these fleeting days when life is fragile yet steadily protected.

We are dreaming of nursery colors and rocking chairs. And I imagine what it will be like to hold your weight in my arms surrounded by greys and whites. What will it be like to feed you at 2am (and 4am and 6am) rocking in that chair or this one? I know I will be tired, I know I will have moments of silently pleading you back to sleep. But you know what I can't imagine? I can't imagine how my heart will grow and grow when I look at you. It's not that I worry I won't love you. I worry because I know I will love you in the same heartbreakingly fervent way I love your brother.

I know what it is like to love a child, a fire that sweeps in and takes over small corners of your heart that were starving of oxygen. You are my new fire. I can only imagine what places in my heart you will bring to light.

Love,
Mom

Thankful Thursday

For my own bed

For breaks in humidity

For cold milk

For GPS

For running through the rain

23 Months & Things

1. We just returned from a whirlwind trip to MN, and you were the picture of dream-toddler-traveler.
2. A few more molars are making their way through.
3. You  haven't physically grown a ton in the past few months - still wearing 18mths-2T shirts and shorts.
4. The words phrases sentences that fly out of your mouth astound me sometimes.
5. Empathy is beginning to develop; the other day you brought a stuffed animal over to the iPad, "doggies turn iPad," you said. Patting his head, you said, "nice doggie, happy doggie."
6. Whether you push a doll or a stuffed animal around in your toy stroller, they must be wearing sunglasses.

Hey Ma, look, it's only $27,000!

 7. We learned the hard way while in MN that you are a park connoisseur. A park or playground structure is deemed un-playable if it doesn't have swings and a steering wheel. Apparently slides are negligible.
8.  You love having people imitate you at the dinner table - hands on head, stick out tongue, chew with your mouth open. It's like Simon-Says, but no words are spoken.

Thankful Thursday

For central air

For feeling Baby a kicks on the outside

For reminders

For fresh vegetables

For unprompted "tankyou mama"s

On Time

I've been reading quite a few blog posts recently about motherhood and time. (Here are two of my faves.) A quote from the second link really struck me. She writes,

"Sometimes when I am having a rough week, [my mother] will tell me about how she would give anything to hold her babies as babies again."

And that's when I cried. Call it crazy pregnancy hormones or fatigue or whatever the heck you want. But I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried for the baby that I no longer have, replaced by a toddler who seems to grow by the minute. I cried for my future self, for the loss of those weighty little bodies wanting to be carried, needing to be held or fed or rocked. I cried out of sheer sadness that there are moments that pass me by, each and every day, that I can't savor because I'm distracted or tired.

I cried because how cruel is time; how long the days and how short the years. I cried out of a love I never knew, a love that has turned my heart inside out. I cried for the days that are hard, the days that are joyful, and the days that go unnoticed. Because I know there will be days in the not-so-far future where I will cry because I would love to hold my babies as babies again.

Thankful Thursday

For healthy babies

For tiny fingers

For strong hearts

For a perfectly formed spine

For Baby (girl!) a

Overheard

Me: Teddy, do you think there is a little girl or a little boy baby in mama's belly?

Teddy (without hesitation): Little gurl.

We will find out if his brotherly intuition is accurate tomorrow.

22 Months & Things

 1. Dad always jokes that one day soon you will outsmart us. I'm beginning to agree.
2. You learned your colors this month! You can consistently identify blue, red, green, purple, pink, orange, and yellow.
3. You still love to be a helper. The other day I gave you a toddler-safe knife and you went to town on an onion while I chopped veggies for dinner.
4. Second year molars are happening all up in your mouth. The first one was not pretty for about 36 hours.

5. You watched your first full-length movie: Monsters, Inc. (See above re: second year molars. It was the only thing that kept you distracted enough from the pain.)
6. The first blood-shedding injury also happened. Along with first band-aids and  first band-aid-related-freak-out.
7. Four word sentences occur on the regular. (The fact that you can communicate with words still blows my mind.)

Dear Baby a,

You are starting to make your presence much more known these days. You are kicking or punching or rolling or whatever with much greater frequency and strength. In about a week we will find out if you are a boy or girl. I can't wait to know more about you; to see your little heart and nose and fingers.

When I was pregnant with Teddy, I was certain he was a girl for the whole first half of my pregnancy. That is, until the day we found out he was 100% boy. And it took me a day or two to come to terms with my misconstrued vision of who he would be. And it took me most of his first year to come to terms with my misconstrued visions of what an infant, a toddler, would be.

One thing that I can tell you today is that I honestly have no idea what to expect with you. I have little if any preconceived notions of whether you are a boy or girl, what kind of infant or toddler you will be, what it will be like to be your mother.

I only know of one thing - my absolute gratitude that you are ours. Whoever you are, whoever you end up being, you were first the biggest gift to our family.

Love,
Mom

Thankful Thursday

For cool rain

For Skittles

For slow jogs

For skirts

For busy parks

Some days I get adventurous

And on those days I roll up my sleeves, whip up a batch of homemade finger paint, strip down the toddler, and let things go where they may.

I learn just as many lessons as him, like do NOT give a toddler a whole cup full of paint at one time nor a spoon to glob it out in big heaps.

This will not result in the cool, abstract toddler art worthy of the fridge-hang. But, it will ensure a happy, out of the norm afternoon for all involved.

And I suppose that is what makes life beautiful anyway.

Happy Friday

A video of finger-spoon-painting-toddler-politeness-cuteness.


Painting from M Ai on Vimeo.

Wisdom

"In the end these things matter most: 

How well did you love? 

How fully did you live? 

How deeply did you learn to let go?”

- Siddhartha Gautama

Thankful Thursday

For gardens

For a toddler's "help"

For down times

For fresh fruit

For sandals

For those of us whose living rooms will never be seen on Pinterest

It must be the week of finding things through blogs and the web that really strike me. I've done it again. This one is for all my mom friends who, like me, tend to hold ourselves to high standards.

There’s something deeper going on in family life than can ever be expressed on a social network. Whatever it is we feel we are lacking, can we collectively decide–as deliberate mothers–that we are not going to sit around feeling discouraged about all the things we’re not? Can we remind each other that it is our uniqueness and love that our children long for?

Thankful Thursday

For last minute invitations

For excuses to make super unhealthy delicious deserts

For cold water

For coupons

For pasta

21 Months & Things

1. You are a counting machine...when you feel like it.
2. You are a letter-repeating/identifying machine....when you feel like it.
3. You have officially graduated to a booster seat at the dinner table.
4. When I am driving without you, albeit rare, I still notice every "scooper truck," garbage truck, and mail man truck. And it makes me miss you.

Choose laughter

Sometimes something just strikes me. This quote did just that. How true, profound, and simple. "all in all, I've resigned myself to the fact that motherhood is manic. And messy. But also really, really fun. And funny! Never in my life have I laughed as hard as I do now. So maybe that's my advice to new moms: when in doubt, choose laughter." - Jen Green, Brand Editor of Anthropolgie, on what advice she would give new moms.

Thankful Thursday

For friends who know just what to say

For feeling rested

For puddles

For watermelon

For cool breezes

Dear Baby a,

We got to see you a few days ago, in full profile. Your little heart beating away and your little arms and legs waving around. I instantly fell in love. It's not that I didn't love you before, but you became a full little baby in between the last time I saw you and this time.

You have little feet and hands and a nose and spine. You are only about 6 cm long, but you are whole. Wholly loved, wholly ours. And we couldn't be more excited about you.

I couldn't sleep on my belly for the first time that night. It was just one more reminder that you are. You are growing, I am growing. We are all changing. You will make me a new mother; us, a new family. Actually, you already have.

Love,
Mom

Thankful Thursday

For date nights

For sweet potatoes

For parks

For hard decisions

For stretchy dresses

Overheard

Teddy (counting): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, Teddy-teen!

The hilarious toddler speech is already beginning. I love it.

Simply

I dropped you off at daycare today. There was nothing unusual about our morning (except the emergency trip to the grocery store because we ran out of milk). There was nothing unusual about getting you out of the car and walking, hand in hand, into the building. You always try to open the heavy front (locked) door and today was no different. As we wandered towards your classroom, I'm sure I was thinking about the clients I would see today and how I didn't want to fall asleep on the train ride into the city.

Our routine was just that, routine. So you clung to me for a minute or so while I updated your teacher on our morning. And then just like that, you were off. Your little friends practicing their jumps, which you have yet to master. You tip-toe ran, like you always do these days, over to the little red couch that is your perfect size. Actually, it's the perfect size for two little toddlers. And so you and a friend sat next to each other yelling out colors as your teacher held up flashcards.

It is always in moments like this, days like these that realizations strike me. I stood there for a moment and a thought so mundane struck me. "Look at how well everyone gets along," I thought. There was no exclusion, no little boy telling you that seat next to him wasn't for you. Just acceptance. Just welcome. Just little people learning colors and jumping and how to eat with forks.

Having you in my life reminds me, when I absolutely need it the most, about what really matters. About how simple our lives begin and how complicated we can make them.

I dreamed you first
But not so real
And everyday since I've found you
Such moments we steal
Like little thieves, we rub our hands
We hold our hearts between them.
But will you hear me and know?

I want only this, I want to live
I want to live a simple life.
~ The Weepies, Simple Life

Thankful Thursday

For chai lattes

For conversations with toddlers

For writers block

For days that include a nap

For ordering in

20 Months & Things

1. Oh the vocabulary! Period.
2. You can identify all the letters of the alphabet, but stubble over N and G most often.
3. You are almost counting to three.
4. One day after our typical "broom"ing task, you kept saying "tail, momma, tail!" it took me about five minutes and watching you trip over the broom three times to realize that you wanted to put the brooms between our legs and pretend we had tails.
5. Playing night-night is a new fave (which involves laying down on the floor or couch or wherever and saying "night night" over and over).
6. We have returned to the phase of pointing and asking "That? That?" about ever.y.th.in.g.
 7. Sharing toys at the library is becoming increasingly hard for you.
8. Your hugs are the best.
9. You are now eating apple slices and grapes. Small miracles in my book.
 10. Your favorite songs are "Wheels on the Bus" and "Mary had a Little Lamb."

Little a

Dear Baby a,
I'm not sure quite where to start this, my first letter to you. I've written so much to, and about, your brother; it feels a little awkward to begin writing to you. You, who is so unknown and new and precious.

You were our little secret for almost three weeks. Then we - mom, dad, and brother - saw the first beats of your heart and we began sharing you with those closest to us. But even now that you are beginning to be celebrated and welcomed and rejoiced over, I find myself anxious. (You, like your brother, will come to know this side of me quite well.)

The anxiety is similar to when I was pregnant with your brother - I know that your safety is out of my control. There is nothing I can do to ensure absolute health, which is what my one wish is for you today. Pregnancy is a weird thing and carries with it a false sense of security and control. There is part of me that thinks I control my body, of which you are so linked right now. But I know better. I know how precious you are. I know, with my whole heart, what a gift you are.

And so I hope that when you realize that I didn't tell anyone about you for almost a month, it wasn't out of lack of excitement or forgetfulness or fear. It was out of true joy and pure gratitude that you are.

Love,
 Mom

Mad Teddy

One of Teddy's growing loves is himself. And I say that in the most developmentally-appropriate way possible. Toddlers of this generation have the added benefit of technology to fuel their egocentrism. Thus, Teddy L.O.V.E.S. to see pictures of himself and watch videos of himself on my phone.

In fact, he watches them so often these days that we have names for many of the videos. There is "silly Teddy" (see this post for that classic), "happy dancing Teddy" (here), and "No  Teddy!" (where he throws books on the floor and together we tell the video-Teddy "no throw books!"). However, his far and away favorite is "mad Teddy." Actually, we have a few "mad Teddy" videos these days.

The original "mad Teddy" is a video I took in our old apartment of a little 6-ish month old Teddy trying to stand up on our AC unit. He gets fussy as he struggles and when Teddy and I watch this now, I talk about how "oh look, Teddy is mad!" Hence, "mad Teddy" is his new phrase. I thought this was cute enough until the other day.

I shall preface this by reminding you that we are also fully engrossed in the I-will-change-my-mind-in-.08-seconds-and-if-you-don't-figure-that-out-I-will-freak-out-on-you stage. AKA Toddlerhood. AKA trantrum-ville; pop 1. The other day I made some grave error (probably gave him his requested apple juice, when really he decided .08 seconds later that no he wanted milk and how the bleep did mom not know that?!), and he threw a fit. Mid-fit he starts saying "mad Teddy! mad Teddy!"

My little psychologist heart nearly exploded from the proper label of emotion.

Thankful Thursday

For warm days and cool nights

For herb gardens

For potato chips

For toddler art projects

For early birthday presents

The alphabet

A random video to remember how cute it is when toddlers recite the alphabet.

19 Months & Things

1. Three word phrases that actually communicate things are happening, which blows my mind. "Mama! Juice please!" and my personal fave "Milk, all done" (as in "Mom, take this milk away from me please").
2. You have begun to recognize letters. Totally unprompted, you pointed out and correctly said O, K, I, and T. You can say most of the other letters, but these are your favorites.
3. You said "octagon" the other day (again, totally unprompted while doing a puzzle). I have no idea where you would have learned this.
4. Your love of wheels continues. I'm not sure this will ever end.
5. Now that the weather has really gotten nice, we spend a good portion of our day outside. I love that I can sit on our patio and just watch you play.
6. You have learned the concepts of off/on and open/closed; and hearing you say "open" is hilarious - it sounds more like "ohpee."
7. You can say your own name! You point to yourself and exclaim "Teddy!" I never thought it would bring me such joy to hear you say your own name.
8. With all this increased awareness, comes the requisite fears. You are not so sure about strangers and at times downright frightened. Loud noises (vacuum and kitchen mixer) that you have been hearing your whole life now scare you.

9. You love splashing - in puddles, in the bath, in your water table toy.
10. You have a new love affair with the mailman. I don't know why, but you get excited when he comes (even though he doesn't seem nearly as excited). You can also recognize mail trucks and you will yell "me-man! me-man!"
11. We have officially stopped giving you baby food. You are offered what we eat for dinner. Sometimes you eat a little bit of it. Other times you don't. Most times whatever it is ends up mixed together in a big pile of mush on your plate.
12. Speaking of food, your favorites are eggs, toast (which is actually just un-toasted cinnamon raisin bread), waffles, cereal (especially from Dada's bowl when he eats it), mac and cheese, chicken, sweet potato fries, turkey meatballs, and yogurt. Notice the enormous amounts of fruits and veggies? No?
13. I ran up on the couch the other day, during one of our epic chasing-tag games. You got to laughing so hard that I kept doing it over and over just so I could hear that laugh one. more. time.
14. Have I mentioned how you are teaching me how to play again? 
15. You are beginning to wrestle. Right now this mainly consists of "pushing" me over and laughing at your strength.
16. Whenever the car stops, you exclaim "home! home!" no matter if we are actually at home or some other random locale.
17. You've already learned what it means to get lost in a good book. One night I read Green Eggs and Ham a total of three times, from beginning to end, back to back. (For those that aren't familiar, that's one long book!)
18. For the most part, you seem to be doing well and enjoying the big boy toddler room at daycare. Most days I come home, weary from my commute and work, to find a new art project on our counter.
 19.  You love seeing pictures of yourself, which is the only way I could sort of bribe you to stand somewhat still for half a second to get these pictures.

Blossoms

I will not die an unlived life. I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire. I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me. To make me less afraid, more accessible, to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise. I choose to risk my significance; to live so that which comes to me as seed goes to the next as blossom and that which comes to me as blossom, goes on as fruit. ~ Dawna Markova

Thankful Thursday

For hope

For water bottles

For chocolate chip cookies

For toddler belly laughs

For secrets

Overheard

Teddy: (pulling on his ear) Ear!! Ear off!

 Me: Buddy, you can't take your ear off.

 Approximately 2.43 seconds later.
Teddy: (waving his hand around) Hand off! Hand off!

 Me: You can't take your hand off either, bud.

 (Filed under "hilarious things I never thought about" and "life with a toddler")

Thankful Thursday

For new wheels

For old sneakers

For worn, ripped jeans

For first gardens

For last days of winter

A NYC Morning

We've had lots of family visitors over the past few weeks/weekends. Teddy has loved all the attention, especially from his Papa and Pop-Pop. When my parents were in town, we decided to venture to another children's museum (I was hoping for anything better than our last experience!).

First we stopped by a playground in Central Park and attempted a grandchild/grandparent picture. Here is the best one:

After we made it into the Children's Museum of Manhattan, Teddy seemed to have a blast. The theme of the visit was wheels. Seriously, this kid could not be pulled away!

I got him to try the alphabet alligator for a few minutes, but then it was back to wheels.

After lunch at a random "kid-friendly tavern" (oxymoron, much? ah well, we were the only patrons, so I wasn't too worried), we headed home. A very successful trip into the city!

Thankful Thursday

For family visits

For helpful co-workers

For spray paint

For new music

For home videos

Leaves

I'm riding the train into work for what feels like the umpteenth time. It's springtime and last week I enjoyed the white blossoms in Harlem. Today, however, I notice the green leaves in their place. Seemingly small and slightly translucent, leaves nonetheless. When did the white flowers blow away, I wonder. Amidst the passing train, day after day, the changes were happening.

I'm watching a video of you and I. You, repeating the alphabet; me, cheering you on. And I'm struck by many things as I watch. The way you sit, nestled into me as though you have known the space between my hip and shoulder your whole life. The way I carry 10 extra pounds on my frame. The way I look at you - for a split second I am outside of myself and I am proud of that mother. You can see the love in her eyes, I think. And in a flash I remember - I am her.

I always think this will be year the I will take note of the very day the leaves bud. But I fail, year after year. The days slip by and I miss the changes as they are happening. These first days and years of my motherhood have passed, as springtime, swiftly. When the white flowers of my girlhood changed into green leaves of motherhood I will never know. I have noted so many of your changes, and perhaps half of mine. So many of them seemingly small and slightly translucent. But leaves, nonetheless.

Thankful Thursday

For part-time work

For homemade cakes

For nap-time

For ballet flats

For a night out with friends + sangria

18 Months & Things

1. Watching you learn is my new favorite hobby.
2. Every once in a while I catch myself watching you do something mundane (carrying 3 cars at once or walking down the stairs holding only one of my hands) and I think, "when did you learn to do that?" When you were a newborn, everything seemed like a notable feat. Now these simple milestones pass by so quickly and unnoticed.
3. I can tell that numbers and letters are starting to interest you; you will repeat most of them pretty accurately these days.
4. You can discriminate between red, yellow, green, and blue.
5. I've started asking permission to wipe your chin after meals and you seem to really appreciate having some say in this task.
6. You said your first official two-word phrase the other day and I about died from the cuteness and my pride. As if I had anything to do with it! Ha.

"Chuck! Areyou!"

7. You love helping me grocery shop. You insist on inspecting every veggie and box, and then will throw it behind you into the cart (you are at about 89% accuracy).
8. Your (and my and Dada's) belly is your new favorite body part.
9. Your second haircut occurred this month. You were the picture of patience and stillness. I was the picture of pure shock.

10. I sneak peas into your mac and cheese. You only spit out every fifth bite. This is success in terms of toddler eating behavior.
11. When you decide on your mission (Must. Get. Ball. NOW.) you run with purpose.
12. You are now the third generation to ride Rowdy the horse with wild abandon.
13. You can navigate the iPad with amazing accuracy. You've even taught us a few finger-swipe maneuvers. I now know how my parents felt when I understood instant messaging better than they did.
14. Trees blowing in the wind scare you.
15. You have inherited a deep love for ice cream from both your Papa and Pop-Pop.
16. You're wearing a size 5 diaper, size 6 shoe, and size 18-24 months clothes.
17. This last year and a half I'm not sure if you have grown the most or if I have.
18. You have mastered the word "no" and head shake. Ah, let the good times begin!

The blur is worth that smile

Thankful Thursday

For puddle stomping

For Elmo watching

For tea drinking

For book reading

For daily dancing

Overheard

While playing with toys...

M: Teddy, where is the blue car?!

T (searching): AREYOU?!?!?! AREYOU AREYOU AREYOU!!!?!

(Filed under "baby's first two-word phrase" and "hysterically cute toddler behavior")

Park

There is a great park not too far from our house. There are swings,



slides, paved winding paths (aka. perfect for wearing out a toddler),

a sandbox, and a library within walking distance. I have a feeling we will be frequent visitors in the coming months.

Thankful Thursday

For iPads

For open windows

For longer days with more sunshine

For ginger ale

For friends

Sand

He's always been 100% boy. The first sand box experience confirmed that my little guy will be one dirty boy this summer. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

(I mean look at that smile! "Dirt! Sand! Odd little pine cones! Random green pail!")

Side-eyes and stillness

Teddy has gotten some great hand-me-down toys from both sides of the family. I remember playing with this bubble maker when my nephew, Tyler, was about Teddy's age. Tyler loved this thing.

Teddy? Gave it the side eye and wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Ah well. The continued staring allowed me to get this (perfectly focused) shot of my little boys face. Doesn't he look so still in this picture?! So rare these day.

Thankful Thursday

For late night walks from the train with no coat

For after-dinner bath time splashes

For sharing a lunch of mac and cheese with the baby

For Elmo in the morning

For the first moments of the day to myself

Transitioning

Teddy will soon be "transitioning" into the toddler room at daycare. Today at drop off I was presented with his "transitioning" schedule. Over the course of two weeks (since he is there only part time) he will spend increasing amounts of time in the big boy toddler room.

As I waved bye to my little guy, blew him a kiss, and stepped into the sunshine with these papers in my hand I found my stomach in knots. Ohmygosh a new room! Kids that are bigger and older and stronger than him. Kids that he doesn't know. Teachers that have never met him. Toys he has never seen before. A routine that will be imposed on him. I won't be able to be with him during these few hours of "transitioning." He will have to do it on his own. I was near tears as I thought about my little boy, alone in a big new world.

It got me thinking about all the coming transitions to which I will witness in his life. Next week he will step into a new room in the day care. In a few years he'll board a school bus. A few years later he'll drive away in one of our cars. A few more years and he'll graduate, ready to take on a big new world.
 
This is how a mom's heart spins - from the toddler room to dorm room all in a millisecond. And each transition will be increasingly his own. I will be more and more in the background, a cheerleader in the shadows. It's times like these that I am reminded - I carried his heart. He twisted and rolled inside me. I kept him safe only as long as it took to allow him to enter a big new world. Like probably all the other mothers out there, I just hope the world is kind to him.

Thankful Thursday

For workout videos

For white, puffy clouds

For plastic bowls (and plates and spoons and forks and cups)

For little boy giggles

For mail (electronic and snail)

Random thoughts on being critical

Children need models more than they need critics.

 JOSEPH JOUBERT, Pensées

Remembering that children benefit from hearing "yes" (or praise or positive encouragement) more often than they hear "no" is easy. The ability to make that happen on any given day? Not so easy. In an effort not to dwell on my own shortcomings, maybe I should also try to catch myself doing this parenting thing well just as often as I catch myself responding in a way I wish I hadn't. Because really, don't we all need models more than critics (including those that eat away at us internally)?

17 Months & Things

1. You had your first real illness this month. I now understand the phenomenon of "sick cuddles."
2. Your love of wheels continues, but now is more focused on trucks. Backhoes and crane trucks and concrete mixers, oh my!
3. There are some gnarly looking bumps on your gums - more teeth are in your future.
4. Coloring (and "cayons") is a new fave activity; as is dumping all the "cayons" out of their container.
5. You say "thank you" (which sounds like "take you" or sometimes "thnkyou") after I hand you a book you are wanting or your milk from the fridge or the waffle from the toaster. You know, the important things.
6. You usually scream when we have to end bath time.

Xylophone call

7. Elmo is a new favorite as well. You call him "momo" or sometimes "mama." I take offense only when I'm having a bad hair day.
8. I can tell full-on tantrums are just around the corner - the other day (after leaving the library - oh! the! horror!) you mastered the stiff-back-straight-legs-I-will-not-sit-in-this-carseat maneuver that I've heard is a toddler tantrum weapon.
9. Also? You are starting to not want to hold my hand while in the street, parking lots, or other public places. Oh your growing independence! Oh my soon-to-be greying hair!
10. You are fun to be around. No, really! You give me such a perfect excuse to run around the house screaming.
11. You are loving nursery rhymes and short songs and are starting to imitate my movements to these songs. It's pretty funny to see you wag your little finger as I say "And the doctor said, 'No more monkeys jumping on the bed!'"
12. Sometimes, usually when we need it the most, you will catch my eye and slowly smile your devilishly handsome smile (that I know you got from your father). And I will laugh, and you will too. And it makes whatever is happening a bit more palatable.
13. You love feeding me whatever you are eating, as well as my morning oatmeal.

14. We spend a good portion of our days reading books or driving cars and trucks around on the ground.
15. Most days you insist on sweeping. "Boom! Boom!" you say, and point to the closet where two brooms are kept. You are not content to just sweep by yourself while I relax on the couch. Oh no, you want me sweeping too. Our floors are pretty clean these days.
16. Dance parties are a regular occurrence. You do this awesome spin move where you hold your hand over your head ballerina-style. It cracks me up.
17. You really want to jump, but your feet have not left the ground yet. But they will, little one. One day you will jump high and run far and love deeply. And I will keep cheering you on.

Thankful Thursday

For deep breaths

For 9%

For brooms

For breaks

For bedtimes

This had been on repeat since the weekend...

Seriously what did parents do before YouTube?

For such a short time

To the one whose heart I never heard,

For such a short time we shared flesh and cells. For such a short time you were hope and new and ours. I never got to hear your heartbeat, never got to love you like I wanted. It was such a short time.

I don't think about you as often as I thought I might. But every once in a while your memory surprises me. Sometimes I think about you while sitting on a plastic train seat with the river rushing by, the anonymity of a Grand Central sea brings me closer to you somehow. Sometimes your memory surprises me while I lay in a dim room trying to heal a body that I at once loathe and love - both because they knew you, carried you. For such a short time.

Sometimes I think about how big you would be now. How many of your heartbeats would have already echoed in my body. Instead, silence takes up residence. But for a short time you were there. And you were loved. And you are missed. 

Forgive me if I think of you too often or too little. It's hard to know how to remember you, and I'm doing it the only way I can imagine. So I share you here, in a space that I have tried to fill with honesty and love and growth. All things we too shared. For such a short time.

Love,
Mom

Thankful Thursday

For chocolate

For handprints

For homemade playdough

For soup

For weekend trips

16 Months & Things

1. I thought last month was a vocab explosion! Holy heck, at this point you will repeat (or attempt to repeat) most of what we ask you to say (that is, of course, if you are feeling like doing it).
2. New words said/attempted:  little, dump truck, helicopter, thank you, please, cooking, mac and cheese, meatball, bye-bye, uh-oh, love you, bubbles, book, boy, girl
3. Sometimes, you find some little seed of energy way down deep in that little toe of yours and proceed to use it up by running back and forth in our living room while simultaneously yelling. (Most times) I find it obscenely cute. (I've also been known to join you from time to time.)

4. You will sign and speak "please" now. Again, I find this obscenely cute and have, up to this point, always given you what you asked for. This smells like trouble from miles away.
5. At the doctor's visit a few weeks ago you were officially 26lbs 11oz and 33" tall. Most people think you are like 2. It's bringing me back to my whole childhood ("oh wow, you look so much older than _ years").

6. You give Dada and I (and sometimes Molly) kisses. (see above re: obscene cuteness)
7.  Making this list reminds me of all the awesome things about getting to be your mom, which is helpful when you decide to deprive me of sleep and I'm struggling to remember that this is all worth it.
8.  You can do puzzles now!

9. You took your first sled ride this month after winter finally arrived. You seemed to enjoy it, although I'm not sure if it was the sled or the fact that I looked like a huffing and puffing lunatic as I dragged the sled up the hill.
10. You were not, however, too keen on tasting snow. In the long run this avoidance will likely do you more good than harm.
11. Animal sounds you have mastered: chicken, dog, cat, cow.

12. Most of the time you attempt to get food to your mouth with a fork you succeed. That is, unless you are trying to eat Cheerios with said fork. In that case the probability of food in mouth is approximately 0.3%.
13. Your hugs make everyday better.
14. One of your bath toys is a xylophone. When I told you this the other day, you promptly picked it up and held it to your ear like a phone. 
15.You can point to your hair/head, ear, nose, chin, belly, toes, and knees (as well as other people's). When I ask you where your eyes are, you simply roll them at me.
16. You share this day with your Grandma Jan - Happy birthday Grandma Jan!