10 months.

Dear Mila,

December 24th marked a pretty special day for you-your first Christmas eve AND your tenth month birthday. I think that calls for lots of presents and cookies, don’t you?

Of course you do. 

You’ve been busy getting big and turning into a toddler this month. I’ve been busy trying to put a brick on your head to keep you from growing. It’s not working.

You started pulling yourself up to standing on just about anything. You cruise around furniture like nobody’s business and can push your walking cart like it’s going out of style. Daddy predicts you’ll be walking in the next month or so. I plan on carrying you more often to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

You climb up stairs and onto furniture. It’s trouble.

You’ve got a personality like no other. You smile at every.single.person. that looks at you, but if they attempt to get near you (or god forbid touch you) you scream like they pinched you.  I was convinced you would skip the whole stranger danger phase, but clearly I was mistaken.

You’ve developed an intense love for your bunny blankey. That thing gets a death grip on it every time we pick you up out of your crib. You sleep with it tucked underneath you at night and carry it around during the day.

You’ve started refusing your bottle and eating more. I think you might give up the bottle before you turn just like Tyson did. A fact that might make me start crying myself to sleep.

You make us smile every day little Mimi. We are so lucky to call your ours-all the presents under the tree will never be as good as the ones you and your brother have already given to me.

Happy ten month birthday, little girl!

Love,

Mommy

The One Where I Traumatize My Kid By Making Them See That Big Bearded Man Dressed in Red

For the last two years, I’ve stood in waaay too long of a line and paid waaay too much money to place a screaming child on an old man’s lap.  The pictures of said event were always undeniably cute, but there was always a little part of me that wondered if I was traumatizing Tyson for life.

Luckily for me, Tyson has turned the tide and survived this year’s Santa experience without a single tear. I think he may have even enjoyed it.

The bad news?  Mila has now replaced him as the screaming child on the old man’s lap.

The good news?  The picture is still really cute.

Also, since Tyson gave up crying on Santa's lap, he's apparently picked up dancing in malls for strangers. Turns out that both are equally as endearing and embarrassing.

Here’s to hoping we only have two more years of screaming kids in Santa pictures.  

Chippy.

We have a new family member that I need to introduce you to. No, despite being 9 months post-partum (hello, baby weight-you can fall off now) I have not produced another babe for you to ogle at. Sorry. We have, however, adopted this cute little fellow from the North Pole.

His name is Chippy.  I am well aware that we stole his name from the movie. My son doesn't like change or anything new or anything remotely different.  We're working on the whole thinking outside the box thing, I swear.

Due to the not liking change/new/different things, I was a little worried about the whole magical Elf who moves around our house at night deal. In an effort to stave off any trepidation, I decided to make his entrance to the house a big party complete with presents, candy canes and breakfast. Did I mention presents? Something about you can't kick a gift horse in the mouth, right?

Clearly Mila agrees.

Chippy's presents included new Christmas PJs and 25 Christmas books to open and read each night before bed. The books have been a HUGE hit, but the PJs haven't been worn once because, hello? Change/New/Different.

He liked the candy canes, though. Until he realized they weren't the kind that he had before. Seriously. I couldn't make this material up if I tried.

Chippy's quite the character. We've found him drinking syrup, hanging upside down from our wine rack (something Mommy does every so often), riding Tyson's giraffe, covering himself in stickers, watching himself on TV, hanging Tyson's underpants from the chandelier and sliding down the banister. I'm beginging to wonder if Chippy will run out of places to land in our house. No, really. I'm begining to wonder.....(help?!)

 

 

For the record, Chippy has been busy reporting back to Santa every night if the kids are being naughty or nice. Surprisingly, this knowledge has not encouraged Tyson to sit at the dinner table any longer or stay in bed at night.



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