9 Months

Dear Mimi,

 

Last week you celebrated your nine month birthday. I am flabbergasted that you could be that old already and certain that it was just yesterday that I held you in my arms for the first time. Just a week before that when I felt you give me your first little kick from the inside. Just a week before that when we prayed and prayed that you would be our healthy baby.

 

You are a busy girl at nine months old. You officially started crawling and prefer to move towards anything you’re not supposed to.  You’re trying hard to pull yourself up to standing on anything and everything within your reach. It’s resulted in quite a few bumps and bruises, but you are not deterred. You love to push your walking cart and are seriously upset that you don’t know how to take off running with it. You have a fierce sense of independence that I adore. You are content to play by yourself and determined to be doing everything your big brother does. You’re starting to babble more and more. “OH BOY!” is your favorite expression. You also say “Heeeay” and “Baaye” accompanied with a cute little turn of your wrist that I’m sure is your wave. Your smile (now with one tooth!) melts my heart and your big belly laugh can light up a room.

 

I recently took this picture of us. It’s not the best. The lighting sucks and it’s focused on your ear. Regardless, it’s the picture I find myself drawn to each time I pick up my phone. Despite your change from baby to toddler, you are still granting me this little piece of heaven each morning at around 5. We rock, you eat your bottle that you don’t really need and I stare at your face. I try to memorize the way you curl your legs around me and tuck your arm behind me. I listen to your heavy breath and study your eyelashes.  I’m well aware it’s a bad habit that I’m creating, but I will fight tooth and nail with anyone who tells me I need to give it up. I’m not ready yet. At some point we’ll wean both of us off of it, but for now, you just cry each morning and I’ll be there with a bottle to rock you back to sleep.

 

 

Happy 9 months, little girl!

 

Love,

Mommy

Thanksgiving

Today, I am thankful.

I am thankful for my three year old who was described as "funny, polite, and empathetic" at preschool conferences. I am thankful for his new found coloring skills and the way he says please and thank you at restaurants. I am thankful he's shy and quiet like me. I am thankful he still likes to cuddle and asks me to say his prayers with him each night.

I am thankful for my happy and content 9 month old. I am thankful she is discovering something new and learning something exciting every day. I am so thankful for her smile and easy going demeanor. I am thankful she still lets me rock her back to sleep early each morning.

I am thankful for my husband. I am thankful for his help. I am thankful he does the dishes and cleans the toilets (the chores I hate). I am thankful he tells me loves me each morning before he leaves. I am thankful he gives me a hug each morning when he gets home.

Happy Thanksgiving.

TROUBLE

Someone remind me again why I thought it would be a good idea to encourage her to crawl....

Three

Dear Tyson,

You turned three on Monday and I cried the entire way to work. Typical, huh?

It WAS the first birthday of yours we didn't spend together. Sure, we celebrated the heck out of you and your threeness on Sunday (and the previous Saturday and the Saturday before that...) and, yes, I'm well aware you will never remember I wasn't there with you, but still...there were tears. Lots and lots of tears.

Three was a big year for you. You're quickly becoming quite the little kid before my eyes. It's an amazing transformation and watching you learn all sorts of new things is allowing me to slowly accept the fact that you'll never be my little baby again. Remember, I said SLOWLY.

You became a big brother this year. It's a job you take seriously. You yell at us if we go to wake up Mila without you. You HAVE to give her a kiss goodnight. You help us get diapers, spit rags and bottles. You give her toys. You make her laugh. You are protective, sweet and gentle. You are everything I dreamed you would be as her older brother and more.

You were potty trained. Fully. Like no pull ups to bed/naps and no accidents for at least the last three months. To be honest, it really didn't take much work on our end. You set your mind to it, got new Toy Story underpants, and accomplished your own goal. We made you wear pull ups to bed for the first few months, but you quickly ditched those too. On your own. You are a determined and smart little dude.

You started preschool. You are the youngest in your class and a full head shorter than most of the kids, but your teachers say you are so smart and doing so well. I drop you off on Thursdays and try to sneak back ten minutes early to watch you from the window during circle time. It's quickly become my favorite part of the week. You have new friends now-Ethan and Griffin and Ella. I know nothing about them. You sing songs that I don't know the words to. You speak in Spanish (!) And, while a part of me wants to swaddle you back up in a blanket and rock you to sleep the other part of me is beaming when you sing, "Hola, Hola, Adios" at the top of your lungs in Target.

Three years ago, I had no idea just how much love I could have for one little being. I'm still struggling to wrap my head around how I could have created such an amazing kid. As you'll discover in your teenage years, I'm not cool (at all), so, the fact that I spit out someone as awesome, smart and funny as you are is pretty much a miracle.

Every single day with you there is a moment where I am overwhelmed by how lucky I am to be your Mommy. I am so proud of you and cannot wait to watch you grow bigger and smarter.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Tys!

Love,
Mommy

Carving Pumpkins

I had a vision of how I wish our pumpkin carving night would go.  "It's a Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" is playing in the background, Daddy and I have a pumpkin beer cracked,Tyson is loving every minute of creating the best looking jack-o-lantern on the block and Mila is happy to overlook the fun in anticipation of her turn next year. It's worth mentioning that in my vision the toddler is dressed.

In reality, pumpkin carving involved Tyson crying for 20 minutes (yes, he's crying in that picture) because his hands were dirty.  Mommy and Daddy quickly cutting out two of the worst jack-o-lanterns you have ever seen. Mila watching screaming, and eating her toes. No pumpkin beers were consumed (or purchased), "It's a Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" is never on when I want it to be, and Tyson never wears clothes.

Parenting is never the way I picture it.

Tyson's 3rd Birthday Party

Tyson is turning 3 on Monday. I'm still not entirely sure how that is happening. 3. Seems old, right? Just typing it was hard.

The better part of my weekend will be spent writing his third birthday letter, crying, and trying to drink away my sorrows. Sounds like a party to me, but since most other don't consider it festive, we opted to have Tyson's birthday party last weekend instead.

Superman wanted to have a Halloween party this year and I was up for the challenge. Spider web dip, mummy juice boxes, pumpkin decorating, jack-o-lantern pizzas and tons of little kids in costume. It was a blast!

 

 

 

All Aboard the Choo Choo Train

A few weeks ago (okay, it was over a month ago-it's our busy season at work-I'm busy) we went on a train ride through the St. Croix river valley.

Tyson wore his too short engineer overalls which were ridiculously cute. For the record, I plan on purchasing him a new pair of the same overalls every year until he refuses. Maybe longer. I'm also slowly setting aside a therapy fund for him.

Mila sat patiently on my lap for the better part of the two hour trip. No, really, a 7 month old sat still on a lap for two hours. Christmas miracle! Yes, I'm bragging about how wonderful my 7 month old is.

For every amazing seven month old, there's always an almost three year old who wants to crawl over every seat on the train to negate the wonderful feeling I was having about my well behaved kids.

There was an actual conductor who took our tickets. I'm fairly certain that this is one of Tyson's career aspirations as he frequently asks for our tickets to do just about anything these days.

The entire crew survived (although I'm not sure what's going on with Tyson's face in this picture). Dan and I are praying every night for a ten month old that sits still on a lap for three hours during our plane ride to Florida. I'm also silently saying a prayer that my three year old no longer thinks it's ok to climb over every seat at that point.

Trick or Treat

Halloween was waay more fun this year than it was last year. Reasons being:

1) Tyson really got into it. He yelled, "trick or treat" at every house and did a decent job of saying "thank you" for all of his candy. Also, it helped that I wasn't pregnant, so, I didn't want to consume every piece of candy Tyson brought home within ten minutes of getting in the door.

2) It wasn't that cold, so, walking around the block for two hours was do-able. Mila even managed to troop out past her bedtime. Also, I wasn't pregnant, so, walking around the block for two hours was do-able.

3) Did I mention I wasn't pregnant? That meant I got to consume the delicious hot apple cider cocktail my neighbor made for us.

4) Also,I'm not sure if I mentioned it, but I wasn't pregnant. That means this cutie was there with us.

8 Months

Dear Mila,

Today you are eight months, one week and two days old. Told you I would be late with the eight month birthday letter. I've been much too busy chasing around my semi-mobile little lady to sit and type. Priorities, right?

You have had quite the month, baby. You are learning, learning, learning. Each day I'm convinced you have discovered something new. Your thumb, crawling, waving, playing so big, your voice...

A few a highlights from your last month:

You started feeding yourself. It's not clean, but it's your preference. If we try to feed you, it typically becomes a game involving you blowing raspberries (and whatever is in your mouth) all over the place. You feeding yourself is equally as messy, but I'm convinced you get more in your tummy that way. For the record, no teeth yet-we're eagerly waiting in anticipation.

 

You sort of hold on to your own bottle. You and Daddy work on this trick every night. I'm not a willing participant because I plan on keeping you a baby forever. When Daddy changes that, I'll be pushing even harder to get you a baby brother or sister. I consider this is fair warning.  

 

 

You went on your first bike ride. As you can see by your face, you weren't so sure of it at first. Don't worry, it wasn't as tortuous as it appears in this picture. Two minutes in and you were laughing up a storm. I hope this will be a regular event next summer.

You got your first baby doll from your Nanny and Papa and you are madly in love. I think it might have something to do with her hard plastic hands that you can't stop chewing on.

You aren't officially crawling yet, but you are close. Really, really close. You are easily frustrated these days because you are so aware of your surroundings but have to work so hard to get to what you want. I have a sneaking suspicion that when you figure out how to crawl it won't be long before you run. I'm currently saving my energy.

You wave, do "SO BIG" and give high fives like no bodies business. You are saying words that sound like ba-ba (bottle), hi, and da-da (which I think secretly means Mommy). You also still make a high pitched screaming sound--a lot. If this is preparing me for your teenage years, I'm scared.

You're the coolest eight month, one week, two day old little girl I know. I'm enthralled with watching you get older and discover everything but cringing that my little baby is quickly becoming my little girl. Promise me that even if you stop being a baby, you'll never stop being my little girl, ok?



I love you, Mimi.

Happy 8 Months,

Mommy