18 Months Tomorrow... Will we make it?

Seriously? If you're going to pretend like you don't need naps and like you can wake up at 6:30 without a problem, at least also pretend to be in a good mood to make it convincing. Time changes are not a parent's friend. I remember all the years before you when fall back was like heaven- a total excuse to stay out until practically dawn on Saturday night even though there's only one extra hour of sleep. Now it means waking up unbearably early and two weeks of exhaustion while you get readjusted.

Why the time change made you stop napping, I don't know, but if I ever come face to face with that thing, only one of us is coming out alive.

Salad Bowl

iluvuma.com

Lamp

qualitybath.com

Shower Curtains

Jaipur

Indigo

Demond Month 16(!)

Unedited.

I don't even know how to begin to apologize for the seven month gap in these posts. It's so easy to forget, when I'm busy, how much I really enjoy writing to you. So, by way of apology, I think I will simply do my best not to let it happen again.

I am sitting in our living room right now with the windows open for the first time this fall. The front door is open too, since Barry the handyman wrestled for about an hour with the screen door last month to get it to close. The fan is on and dinner is prepped. I can hear birds and distant traffic. I love fall. When you wake up we'll go to the park.

You have a stay-at-home mother as of two weeks ago, which I guess means I need a good excuse as to why I didn't write this earlier. Stay tuned! We went to a MOMS Club meeting this morning. Moms Offering Moms Support. Their literature talks about understanding mothers' decisions to stay at home and the organization being a support network for that process? Ridiculous, like it's so controversial and almost everyone wouldn't choose to not work if they could. But everyone there was really great.I'm excited.

It's going to be so nice being home with you and not having to coop you up in the office for so long every day. You are not a baby who appreciates being cooped. You are a mover and a shaker. The kind of baby who gets shit done. Every day you remove every pot from my drawer and line them up  across the kitchen floor. All doors must be closed and all toys must be out. You would play in my closet for hours if I let you, removing socks from drawers and shoes from shelves, creating a sea of footwear that you wade through happily.


Most of the children in the playgroups we've attended this month are about 2. They speak in sentences. They willingly brush their teeth. They share. You do none of these things and are prone to hitting/pushing the bigger kids when you want their toys. I know this is normal, but it makes me uneasy because I haven't spent much time around other moms, nor you around other kids, and I'm not quite sure how to react. There was a boy your age at one of the groups. He pushed you and grabbed toys willy nilly. It was so reassuring to me and it didn't phase you at all. You accepted the push with the grace of one who can take it as well as he can dish it.

You are talking more and more, though. You make a blubbery noise with your lips every time you see an elephant. You know the sounds for lions and owls. Dogs are the best things in the world. You hug and kiss any animal you come across, stuffed or otherwise. You're still sleeping like an angel and eating like Calista Flockhart.

Last week you had a cold, which I caught in the form of an ear infection. Adults should not get ear infections! Holy catfish it hurts so bad. This is the second one this year. Can you imagine if it becomes a trend? I'll be the only grown up on the surgery roster for ear tubes.

The week before that we had just gotten back from Palm City where my mother (who you call Nana) had a double mastectomy. It was scary and stressful, even though it's one of the easiest kinds of cancer to have.

It took me awhile to get back to normal, but I think we're there.

Desmond Month 11

You gave me gallstones.  Gallstones that have been causing me pain since you were born. Gallstones previously misdiagnosed by a charlatan as "postpartum inflammation of the stomach lining." Gallstones that were removed last Friday right along with my gallbladder.

Shockingly, taking care of an infant post-surgery is difficult. You are heavy and whiny and- what's the best word for 'not still'?, oh yeah- a pain in the butt. I am sore and drugged and, well, bitchy. All doctors reassured me that everything they gave me is safe for breastfeeding, but they also mentioned that it could make you slightly groggy, which I don't think is helping either of our dispositions.

I should stop being so dramatic. I feel better today and so do you- except for your new 6am wake up habit. Every morning at 5:47 on the dot. You WILL NOT go back to sleep and you spend the time until your nap being extremely fussy because you're effing tired. Someday, in school, you will learn about logic and realize that this is stupid.

After your nap you are an absolute pleasure to be around.

I should say toddler, not infant, because you, mister, are toddling. You walk all the time! Technically, you were walking at 10 months- the first steps came about a week before April 18. We were so excited, I think they heard my squeals three streets away. You had no idea what you were doing, but enjoyed the praise.

For awhile, you would only walk between your dad and me, usually holding some large object that helped you keep balanced (a Playstation3 controller is your object of preference- starting early). Then, slowly but surely, you ventured out independently and now you walk across the whole house as if it's nothing. So fast! I told you to slow down, remember?

Everyone is coming for your birthday.  I feel like I should provide more than food and a cake, but I don't know what. Activities have never been my thing. Even as a very small child I found them to be tedious. Maybe I'll supply everyone with a book and a corner to read in. Argh. Grandma says I need a theme, like motorcycles or guitars, both obviously more your father's cup of tea. Maybe he should do the party planning.

So I reminded you about how I want you slow down, but I just read another mother's blog and her 9 month old is talking and now I want you to talk, ok?

Love,
Mom