Just another beautiful morning!

I know that I'll look back and cherish these hectic mornings.  I know I will.  In fact, there are a thousand little moments each day that I scoop up carefully and lock away in my heart, knowing that while my mind may forget these teeny blessings, my heart never will.

I wake up as usual, with Chris poking and prodding me, "It's after 7. I'm late! You have to get up now!  Come on, are you awake?! Get up! I'm leaving!"   I try heroically to pry my eyes open and fight the tiny be-horned, red-dressed Bonnie on my shoulder urging me to ignore his pleadings and drift back off.  Shortly after I hear the alarm set, and his thump, thump, thump off the porch and the roar of his super-cool muffler (or lack thereof) on his truck, I am able to relax again. 

Drifting off... nice and easy... "eh."  nice and... "eeehhh."  "EEEHHH!"  Like the winding up of a firetruck siren, I hear the whine begin.  Slowly and spaced out, at first, growing in urgency and demand the longer I wait.  "Just five more minutes," I plead.  "Just play with Bunny Bear and your feet, or something.  I'll be right there," I beg the one-way monitor, who I know is not passing my message on to the increasingly impatient toddler a few rooms away.  THWACK.  There goes Bunny Bear.  My time is short now.  I jump out of bed, stumble into as few pieces of furniture as possible, and stagger into her room.  As I finally peel back the sleep mask (why didn't I think of that sooner?), I see her sweet rosy cheecks and chin resting on the rail of her crib, arms outstretched and she coos an excited greeting to me.  "Well, hello there, my Little Bit.  How's my Love Muffin this morning?"  Her arms reach up and around me, briefly, and she points excitedly toward the door - "Da-da!".  Of course.

"Honey, your Da-da has gone to work already, but what about me? I'm here... Remember Ma-Ma?"  "Da-da!" she states emphatically and squirms to be let down.  "By all means, go look.  I'll just get you a clean diaper and a change of clothes and some juice while you look for your precious DaDa.  I'll just think of all those times when I puked first thing in the morning until I laid my head back in bed at the end of the day while I was carrying and carefully nurturing you INSIDE MY BODY while you go look for dearest Dada."  P.S. - I'm not bitter that she loves him more.  I'm glad she's so head over heels for her DaDa.  It's what I've always dreamed of.  Seriously.  Not at all bitter.

As I carry the clothes and shoes and other necessities to my room, she comes scooting in on her little pink car, fearlessly flinging herself into the same doorways and furniture legs I sought to avoid mere moments before.  Grinning ear to ear, she leaps into my arms, and with only a little pleading from me, gives me one of the sweetest kisses I'll ever recieve before flopping excitedly on the bed and pointing to the TV.  I take what I can get.  And love every second.  "So what is it this morning, your majesty?  Toys? (Toy Story 2)  Baa? (Shaun the Sheep), Shrek? (Shrek 2)"   "Cars!" she demands.  "Hon, cars are only on the computer.  You can watch those with Daddy tonight"   "Daddy?" she looks around expectantly.  "No, tonight.... nevermind.  Here, let's get dressed".  Cars is her word for watching the endless YouTube clips Chris has found of antique cars being driven.  When she gets bored of that, they watch a  little "Row, Row" (your boat), and some "Itsy Bitsy" (spider), then maybe a little bluegrass before she's back to watching cars.   I honestly have no clue how he's done it, but the two of them have one another wrapped around their fingers.  It's sickening, really.

Once dressed, she watches her movie as Mommy scurries to get ready, often noshing on Cheerios or dried fruit and sipping milk. "Come on, cowgirl, time to head out.  Ready to go to school and get Bite Bites and see Ms. Lauren?!"  Nodding emphatically, she grabs Bunny Bear, jumps aboard the pink car and begins banging her way through the halls to the kitchen.  There we have to stop so I can give her medicine - the latest round of antibiotics for the latest ear infections... fun.  Thankfully, the kid loves medicine.  She's on the far side of the island when I tell her it's time for her medicine, and suddenly I see a chubby hand pop up over the edge of the counter and a pacifier flies onto the granite.  Then stomp, stomp, stomp, and a very excited young lady is standing in front of my eagerly awaiting a tube of yummy medicine.  She sucks until it's empty, then looks up expectantly - "Mo?"  "No, honey, no more until tonight... go get Bunny and let's go"

She stomps around to the other side of the island and I see the chubby hand pop back over the edge of the counter,  feeling around for the paci... I slide it closer, and she finds it.  I hear the happy slurp as it hits it's target and shortly she appears next to me, bear in hand.  She proceeds past me to the door and begins slapping it loudly ("knocking", or our version of it), as I snatch my purse and bags, set the alarm, and out we go.  Or out she goes, and stops abruptly in the doorway (just like her Grandma).  "Mauwh Mauwh?" she asks, elbows akimbo, hands bouncing in the air.  "I don't know where our kitty is this morning, baby.  Why don't you call him?" I say as I scurry past her to drop my load in the car and get her seat ready.  At this point, we're desperately late, but that doesn't concern her... "MAUWH MAUWH" she cries, looking in every direction.  I try to get back in time, but no, she's found her rocks.  Has one in each hand and is wielding them somewhat scarily near the bathroom windows.  Calling for the cat and stomping along the porch with her rocks, any attempt by me to extract her from the situation is met with a firm howl.  "Bite Bites, school, Ms. Lauren," I remind her.  She flings the rocks down and starts running toward the steps, hollering "Bite Bites" with every step... At least I know how to motivate the kid.  About that time, Mauwh Mauwh shows up, so we have to shriek at him, pet him, then laugh and shriek som more as he begins winding himself through my legs.  I have to navigate the field of land mines between letting the very independent toddler walk down the stairs and to the car herself, all while trying not to break an ankle in my heeled shoes on the gravel walk, and avoid tripping over and killing the damn cat (actually, most of the time I like the cat, but when he's between or in front of my every step and I'm already late, he's a damn cat).

Finally, everyone in the car, buckled up and we're on our way. Whew.  Hayden has her cell phone and is jabbering excitedly into the reciever.  I think it's Mema and Poppie we're talking to this morning.  Or about them.  I'm never quite sure.  She sounds an awful lot like the lady that does my nails, and as I look in the rearview mirror, I can see she's literally foaming from the speed at which she's talking.  Every once in a while, I catch a word I think I might understand.  "bawl... Mauwh... wock (rock).... Pop-pee...buhbuhls...bite, bites...oooh, oooh (her dog bark)..."  This feverishly paced conversation continues until we get to school, and she happily flings the phone aside (I think it landed in the cupholder on the other side of the car) and snatches up her bunny bear and paci and reaches for me.  Once unfastened, I remind her the paci stays in the car and she flings it into her seat and bounces happily in my arms.  It's Bite Bite Time!

I drop her off in the room, where she runs happily to an empty chair and sits, legs pumping, for Ms. Lauren to bring breakfast.  This morning it's a biscuit, chicken patty, and applesauce with milk.  She grabs the biscuit and chicken, takes a lick of the chicken before tossing it back on her plate and tearing into the biscuit.  I get her attention and blow her a kiss bye-bye, and wait long enough for her to blow me one back "Mwah!".

And, I'm off to work... finally.  Late, but I wouldn't trade a minute of the morning I've just had.  And not that late...At least we had no melt-downs, explosions or other heart-breaks this morning.  I'm sure she's saving that for tomorrow.  I can't wait.

Play Date

A couple weeks ago our good friends Barbara and Chris brought over their son Ian to play with Hayden and we all hung out and enjoyed the beautiful weather on the back porch.  I got the brilliant idea of entertaining the munchkins with bubbles while Chris (Lair) manned the camera.

All went beautifully...

...for awhile.  Hayden was thoroughly entertained, and Chris got some amazing pictures, but Ian was not so impressed with the bubbles... At least not when Miss Bonnie blew a bunch that the breeze carried right over into his little face.  Let's just say the fun got a bit overwhelming...

...and I've never felt like a bigger heel, making that sweet little boy cry.

But, all was soon forgiven.  We took the crazieness and festivities down a notch and headed inside to dig through Hayden's mountainous tub of toys, which both Ian and Hayden heartily approved of.

Hayden shows off her mad doodling skillz while Ian sports his bag mamma-jamma earthworm scarf (that his mommy made for him, from scratch!)

Pretty good fun for a lazy Monday holiday afternoon.

Too Fast

The child really is growing up too fast. 

I can't believe she's brushing her own teeth now. Next, she'll be driving.  Breaks my heart a little.

"Oh, God"

My dearest little pudding-pie honey bee sweetums came out with her first inappropriate phrase this weekend (we won't say bad, although she did come out with one of those as well), and while I'm blaming this one entirely on daddy (give me a minute, you'll see why), it's been a wake up call to us both that we need to watch our mouths.

As I was changing the aforementioned Snookums' dirty, dirty diaper this weekend, I made the comment, "Ohh, Honey! Let me get the wipes.  This one's a doozie!"

To which my little angel-babe responded, "Oh, God!" (which in her VERY Southern accent came out, "Ohhh, Gaaawwwwd!")

I froze, not sure I'd heard her correctly. "What, sweetie?"

"Oh, God!"  It was then that I realized just exactly who she sounded like.  Her loving, doting father has the exact same reaction whenever he releases those little tabs to discover one of her more "productive" creations...

Ahem.

Dear, we need to talk.

She didn't repeat the phrase again until the next poopy diaper a little later that day, and then she again mimicked her daddy.   Soon, though, she'd learned to apply her new saying to all sorts of situations.  Choked on your milk? "Oh, God!"  Dropped your spoon?  "Oh, God!"  Saw a bug?  "Oh, God"

I am avidly working on teaching "Oh, no!" as a substitute, and trying not to show a reaction when the other comes out, but it catches me so off guard to hear this sweet cherubic little voice singing out this little phrase.  Part of me wants to laugh, part of me wants to cry, and part of me wants to break the duct tape out for mine and hubby's mouths.

Some miscellaneous thoughts from this morning

1. This is my 200th blog post.  I feel like it should be something profound, but honestly, I lack the energy.   Whoot!   There you go.  A wee bit o' celebration to kick it off.
2. I'm out of deodorant.  I started to look for an extra, and then I remembered I only buy extras for Chris.  I swear the man eats the stuff.  I have to buy 2-3 at a time.  Almost every other shopping trip.   I have this nagging little fear that one day, wandering around in the depths of our basement, I'm going to unearth his true life's work - a full-sized, shower-fresh sculpture of Henry Ford.  Or something equally disturbing.  One thing I have to give him credit for - if you EVER, EVER smell something the least bit unpleasant in his vicinity, I can GUARANTEE you that it's not him.  Sometimes he puts more on before he comes to bed at night.  I think he does that just for the repellant effect, though.  I can't stand to cuddle with an armpit full of chemically concocted "Morning Fresh" man. Ugh.  It's his way of making sure he's got plenty of room to sleep on his side of the bed without getting crowded out, is my theory.  Anyway, my point of this story was that I need to get some deodorant next time I got to the store.
3. There's no spell check on this new blog editor.  Unless they have sneakily inserted it where only those smart enough (surely) to spell their words correctly would be able to locate it.  Therefore, I can accept no responsibility for misspelled words at this time.  I love you all, but not enough to get out my dictionary and double-check.  You will all have discovered that I am not the perfect speller you have come to know and love, and I will be forever ruined.  Or not.  Moving on...
4. While, at our house, we love and respect the "Baby Einstein" videos for their toddler-entrancing powers, I do have a beef with the new one we got  - "Baby's First Moves".  I usually put these videos on while Hayden is eating her breakfast and I'm scrambling to get ready - this cuts my interruptions down to only about 20 a minute, and I make a little progress here and there between the need for me to hold her newfound treasures - a sock, my shoe, my other shoe, that teeny piece of dirt that was on the floor, bunny bear, a coat hanger, a dirty diaper, a clean diaper, a soggy cheerio she just coughed up, another soggy cheerio, a dirty tissue, the hairbow I just put in her hair, the other hairbow I just put in her hair, her paci, a book (a book I need to read RIGHT NOW), and so on and so forth.  So this new video is great, and gets her moving along with the video - "where's your nose? Touch your nose!", "clap!", "roll over!", "peek-a-boo!","sit up!", "jump!", "KICK!".... Kick?!?!  What the?  What the crap do you expect my child to kick?  While watching a video?  In the house?  In a room with lots of breakable items?  Why? Why? Why would you... why?   Just why?  I could go along with all the other activities - no props required, no real worries of damage or destruction, to the child or their surroundings, and here you freaking Disney nuts go and insert "Kick!" in your little video, showing this exhuberant (see, thanks to Blogger, I have no idea if I spelled that word right! Point proven!) young boy kicking a huge bouncy ball in an EMPTY studio set.  After you've just convinced my child to clap and roll and sit and jump along with you, you tell her to KICK something.  FYI, Disney.   We weren't prepared.  We didn't have a BALL ready.  We weren't adequately prepped for this part of the video.  So you know what my wonderful 16 month old (brilliant kid by the way) decided to do? Improvise!  Lovely! I am so proud that she put two and two together and figured since she couldn't kick  a ball she'd have to find something else.  I just wish it hadn't been her toy keyboard.  Or anything, for that matter.  We already struggle with the 'dropping/throwing things for fun' game, and now, with your encouragement, we've learned a new variation - the kicking the crap out of things for fun game. :) Joy.
5. Do I need a 5th thought this morning?  I feel as if I've been sufficiently witty, sarcastic and bitter to get me through the whole day.  Maybe I can end on a sweeter note.  Actually, I do have a good thought to end on.  When Hayden and I got to school, I got her out of her seat and was preparing to set her down to walk her in (she walks into school now! On her own two little legs! It kills me a little everytime.  Too FAST, she's growing up too fast!), she decided it was a good moment for a hug.  So she leaned in and wrapped her tiny arms around my shoulders, rested her head on my chest, just right where I could bury my face in her sweet hair and take in her perfect smell. She was in no hurry to dash off my lap and run in, so I just sat, as long as she was willing, and held her close and soaked in the precious moment.  I try to do that - take the time, when she decides it's time - to hold her close and love her and enjoy her, because I know that all too soon, those moments will become fewer and farther between and I'll wish for them in earnest.  So there we sat in the parking lot, hugging one another and resting our heads together, enjoying that tender moment.   And then, before I knew it, we were off again!

10 Things I'm Grateful For Today

1. The way Hayden says "uh-oh" right after she throws or drops something (more often throws).  That little face is so cute and sweet, and it makes me want to laugh everytime, even though I can't let her see.
2. The sun is out this morning, and I didn't have to wear a coat to work!
3. Daylight Savings Time - loving the longer evenings!
4. Getting to spend a wonderful weekend with friends, family and good food.
5. Getting to watch Hayden play with her Poppie yesterday.
6. How easily Hayden goes to bed at night, and how wonderfully she sleeps now!
7. Hayden's love of books and reading.
8. My new low-maintenance haircut.
9. Hobbies that make me happy.  Right now, I'm hooked (no pun intended) on crocheting.  Next week will be scrappin' time again!
10. My dear, wonderful Husband, whom I love unconditionally and trust unequivocally.  At a time when we are witnessing the devestation that crumbling relationships can wreak on our friends' families, I am grateful for the rock our marriage is built on, and for the relationship we both work hard to maintain.  For our child's sake.  For our sake.

Have a wonderful Monday, everyone!  I hope you can find 10 things to be grateful for this beautiful morning.  May God bless you and keep you all!

One of these things is not like the other

This weekend, Chris and I discovered one of the first major opinions Hayden has made that differs very much from our own.  One of her first forays into becoming her own little individual self.

She LOVES the beach.

It's not so much that I mind the beach is that, 1) I am not very fond of swimming or playing in waters where there are a) animals abiding, and b) waters I cannot see into, and 2) I cannot stand the never-ending presence of the sand in my clothes, hair, fingernails, cracks and crevices, not to mention car, purse, nose, did I mention fingernails and crevices? once you I have been to the beach.  These two things keep me from enjoying most trips to the seaside, although I am fond of the Carribean for its amazing clear blue water, and I do enjoy laying out in the sun a bit, with a chair and a little shade to retreat to every once in awhile.

Chris, on the other hand, has little use for the beach at all.  He shares my sentiments about the sand, although probably not to the OCD degree that I do, and he's not much for swimming or playing in the water, just because that's not his thing.

So between us, we've spent probably no more than 3 or 4 hours at any beaches, total, since we've been married.  Just not our gig.  But we do enjoy taking the occasional walk in the sand, walking to the ocean's edge, maybe even dipping a toe or two in the water, and looking for seashells.  That was our objective when we stopped by the public strand in Fernandina last weekend, but we were amazed with an entirely unexpected discovery:  Hayden was in her element.

She loved the sand, picking it up and letting it run through her fingers.  Flinging small handfuls at nothing in particular.  Digging up shells from the soggy grains and carrying them with her like small treasures.

The water was a huge fascination as well.  We couldn't let her go or stand her up by herself because she would break and run for the waves the second we did. 

She was so eager to go pell-mell into the water.  Chris held her right at the water's edge, and they would watch the waves come lapping up the edge of the beach, spilling closer and closer... until... at the last moment possible, Chris would lift her above the swell and dash backwards, keeping (mostly) just out of the ocean's reach.  This game delighted Hayden to no end, and I think had we let her, would have entertained her for the better part of the afternoon.

I think I may have just discovered my first reason to really love going to the beach, and Chris and I agreed that we need to plan a trip to the beach this year, to let Hayden continue her explorations, and once the weather warms, get her first dip into the salty spray to see if she likes it as much as she thinks she will.  In the meantime, we have a fistful of shells and some amazing memories of this wonderful day to tide us over (pun intended).

PS - Thanks to Carrie and Joel for most of the great photos here!

God made dirt...

...and dirt don't hurt!

At least that's Hayden's stance on the matter. Still enjoying the new-found benefits of warmer weather and the additional evening daylight, Hayden helped me weed for a bit in the flower beds this evening.  Or rather, she helped me rearrange the pinestraw and pluck leaves off of my plants as I dug up the errant briars and clumps of grass (why is it, by the way, that I can't for the life of me get grass to grow in my yard, but it comes up effortlessly and aplenty in my mulch beds?  Just makes me want to put mulch on the yard and grass in the beds...).

I spent several minutes working my way down the front of the house as Hayden played quietly at the corner of the porch, tossing clumps of pinestraw in the air, onto herself, and generally in every which way.  I heard her stir, and looked back to check on her. 

She came toddling over my way, a rock in each hand, grinning from ear to ear. That is when I noticed she had made it down below the pinestraw in at least an area or two, judging from her Georgia clay-stained lips...

This is why I love having a child.  I love seeing the world through her eyes, and giving myself permission to let go of some of the pre-conceptions (is that a word?  I dunno... it's late) I have of myself and the world around me.  Seeing her like this makes me want to go play in the dirt too, although I have to admit, I'll probably pass on the mud pie for dessert.

Move Over, Beethoven!

I think we have a new prodigy in the house!

Although the jury's still out on whether she is more raw talent or hammy entertainer.  

Personally, I think I see some of both.

Amagarumi

For those of you who don't know, Amagarumi is the Japanese art of knitting or crocheting small stuffed animals and anthropomorphic creatures.  In other words, it is using some mad skillz to craft these itsy-witzy fuzzy-wuzzy cutie wittle flufalumps that make you wish you were 3 again and could carry them around in your 'purse' (which is actually a left-over McDonald's Happy Meal box) everywhere you go.

Thankfully for me, I have an uber-talented friend, Carrie, who has the patience and talent to make these crazy-amazing little suckers, and I have a daughter who I can let play with them (until she goes to bed. Then they're mine... all MINE!), so my cover is not blown.  Except for having to explain all the empty Happy Meal boxes in my closet....

Anyway... Long story short, Carrie is how we came to be acquainted with our new little buddy, Sammy the Baby Seal.

Sammy is a sweet little baby seal, complete with festive Winter scarf, who became Hayden's new friend a few weeks ago.    I am equally enamored with his sweet little self, but really, how could you not be?  Just look at this little fella!

He's watching for signs of snow...

That's the one thing this little bugger and I disagree on.  He'd love Winter year round, but I'm ready for SPRING!

Other than that, we get along fine, and Hayden doesn't even hold that against him (although judging from her response to the park this past weekend on the warm Sunday afternoon we were blessed with, it could become a sticking point in their relationship).

What can I say?

The kid loves yogurt!

(and feeding herself.)

Happy Friday, everyone!

Morning Routine

Hayden and I have settled into a regular morning routine that is much more conducive to me getting ready and getting us both where we need to be on time (most days).  For starters, she wakes me up around 6 or 6:30, and since she's in her room, I don't get to pick her up and roll back over with her... I have to get up and stumble to her room and bring her back to our room, and by that time, she is AWAKE.  And wants FOOD.  And her MOVIE.  Now, ye sorry chamber maid, get the to it!

In order to have a few moments without her in arms, and without wailing, so I can get the essentials done (bathroom, shower, hair, clothes), I created a little cubby in the corner of our room out of pillows one day, and sprinkled some assorted shriveled fruit corpses (raisens, dried cranberries and pineapples) on a plate and set her Baby Einstein on play, and let her be.   She quickly adapted to her new routine  (before I even realized that's what we'd created), and now backs into her little corner, Bunny Bear in arms, points to the TV and hands me her empty plate. 

That's not to say she doesn't ever get bored while I'm getting ready, and say, come bang on the shower glass, smearing her sticky face and fingers along the outside of the enclosure.  And of course, she never picks the moment I have soap in my eyes to do this, leaving me frantically trying to hold the door in place so she doesn't come tumbling in with me.  She has also never gone into the closet and come out toting my underwear from the day before, and rubbing her snotty nose with it.  Not my kid.

All in all, though, our little routine works out well for both of us, and I think she's the cutest little thing ever curled up in the corner watching her show.  It reminds me of the Saturday mornings that Grace and I would grab all our blankets and pillows and stuffies and plod down to the den (the pillows and blankets would get catapulted off the balcony, or rolled down the stairs.  Much more efficient than carrying it all) to watch our cartoons. 

Good Nights!

I'm going to let you in on a little secret of mine.  It's "Goodnight."  Just that one, simple word has made a world of difference in our bedtime and middle-of-the-night routines.  It's actually not even my secret, since I'm revealing things at the moment.  I got it from "The Baby Book" by Dr. and Martha Sears.

I have to be really honest.  When Hayden was on the "up-every-hour-on-the-hour-plus" routine, I was going crazy.  Chris and I were reading everything we could get our hands on about sleeping and not sleeping and babies and oh-my-gosh-how-do-you-turn-her-off-for-a-couple-hours, FOR THE LOVE!   When I came across this little gem in the Baby Book, I thought it was utter madness.  Still think it is, some days, but oh my stars it works.  EVERY time.  EVERY, EVERY time.  It must be baby speak for "if you want to live to see tomorrow, zip the lips and close the lids.  Pronto!"  Seriously don't get how it works, but I want to share it with you now, for those going through the sleep drama, that it might bring just a bit of peace to your lives.

The technique calls for you to, in preparation for bedtime, go around each room in the house, and begin to say "goodnight" to everything, quietly, with the baby in your arms.  So, we'd start in the kitchen - "Goodnight, fridge, goodnight", "Goodnight, stove, goodnight", "Goodnight, counters, goodnight", and continue through the room, naming each thing and touching it gently as I softly bid it goodnight.  Then we'd move to the dining room, "Goodnight, table, goodnight", "Goodnight, chairs, goodnight".  And then the living room, and finally into the bedroom.  We'd make the rounds, whispering goodnight to each stuffed animal, piece of furniture and toy, and then I would tell Hayden, "Goodnight, Mama, goodnight.  Goodnight, Daddy, goodnight", and finally, as I lay her down in her crib, "Goodnight, Hayden, goodnight".  I would repeat that very quietly as I would cover her with her blanket, tuck in Bunny Bear, and made sure she was settled.

If she began to fuss again, I'd begin "goodnighting" her, and if she really overly upset, we'd start the whole circuit over again, but I always tried to keep her in her room if we made it that far.  She'd eventually settle right down, flip over on her side, clutching Bunny Bear and begin closing her eyes.

In the middle of the night, when nothing would soothe her, a five minute "goodnight" session through the house would have the crying stopped in no time, and usually have her sacked on my shoulder before we made it back to her room.

Even today, if she's not feeling well, or not eager to go to bed, just a few "goodnights" re-programs her and she's back to my cuddly, sleepy baby.

I don't know if it's the repetition, or the gentle tone of my voice, despite her sometimes feverish cries, or the distractions of touching so many different objects, but this magic trick has presto-chango-ed my baby girl every single time.

If you're losing sleep with a wee one, take a night and a wild hair and try it- you might be surprised!  Also, let me know if it works for you.  I'm dying to know if we're the only ones who this helped (surely we couldn't be, or they wouldn't have put it in a book, and besides, these people have like 8 kids... they must have the hang of it by now, don't you think?).

Sweet dreams!

Motherhood Rule #237

I'll go ahead and warn you all - this is what some might call a "TMI" post, but as a new mother, I find that my boundries of what I will and won't share thse days are surprisingly broad.  For those also in my shoes, I'm sure you can relate.  For those who aren't, but have been, I'm sure you'll remember these days fondly.  For those who haven't been there yet, sorry, but this is how things go. Brace yourself.  For those who won't ever be in this position, or who are grossed out anyway... might want to skip this one.  Fair warning.

Motherhood Rule #237

Your suddenly "too-busy-for-cuddling-I-can-walk-and-need-to-go-explore" 14 month old will determine that the only time s/he wants to be cuddled, nay - MUST be cuddled - is the 2 minutes you need to go to the bathroom.  S/he will toddle in, stuffed animal, books and toys in hand and demand to be placed in your lap immediately or face the wrath of Unhappy Child, S/He Who Refuses To Be Soothed, and will force you to listen to wailing the likes of the pitiful demons of hell until you acquiese and set Her Majesty squarely on your lap (the same one you're using to do... er, other things).

That's good for me, though, you know, because  I can't think of a time when I want more to cuddle and snuggle closely with someone than that particular time. I just love having a small body squirm on my legs and play with my shirt...then. Ah, the joys of having a child!

After our "quality time" this morning, I had to peel Hayden off of me and try to convince her between screams that I was actually done and going to stand up myself.  Once we passed that hurdle, her new fascination became the toilet and what was in it (lovely).  I cautioned her though, to step back, telling her she had to be CAREFUL there and that we don't play there.  She immediately backed up a good step or two and peered at the bowl from a distance, clutching her Bunny Bear tightly.  As I stepped forward grasp the handle and end this freak show, she quickly grabbed my pants leg and whining, pulled me away.  I realized that she had grasped my warning well - she didn't want me to get to close to this dangerous object either... I carefully reached my arm over and flipped the handle, and then we left the bathroom, her off to another adventure, me off to warn other mothers of this odd toddler rule. 

Moving On Up...

This week was Hayden's first full week in the 1 year old classroom.  She just moved in there from the older baby room, and it's been a big change for her.  For starters, there are no more cribs, and no more random naps.  They get one 2-hour nap, and they each have a cot that they sleep on.  She's been great on the cot, although staying asleep the whole two hours, and staying awake the rest of the day, has been a bit of a challenge so far.  She's still adjusting, which is clear when I pick her up at 5:15 and she is ready to drop.  She's been in bed all week between 6 and 7pm, and it seems like she's torn between eating and sleeping when I get her home.  I know she's ravenous, but she's also so exhausted, she just doesn't know what she wants.  That's been fun, by the way.

Instead of being corralled into one area of the room, they are free to roam the entire space, which is filled with big foam blocks and mats (like you see Hayden reigning from in this picture), push toys, rocking toys, and shelves for many other toys.  They also have 'craft' time, which in our brief experience seems to be mostly teacher-led, with a few crayon slashes across the page from a tiny hand.  It's a start, though, and we already have our very first refrigerator art (although my refrigerator is not magnetic, so we'll need to find another home for it).

Another big change is their eating arrangements.  They sit at tiny tables and tinier chairs to eat their meals as a group, instead of being fed from a high chair.  It's an interesting process to watch.  Hayden tends to be pretty particular about trying to stay clean as she eats (with varying degrees of success, but at least the desire is there), but some of those kids just don't care.  Fun times.

When the weather is nice, they get to play outside twice a day, so another big shift there, and instead of being corralled in by baby gates, they have the whole room to roam, so Hayden's getting TONS of excercise (thus the ravenous and exhaustion).

All in all, she's handling the changes pretty well - just like the 'big' girl she is.  While I am so proud to see her moving on to new and better challenges, there's a tiny piece inside that is so sad to see her move farther and farther from babyhood.  That's part of growing up, I suppose (for me, as much as her!)

Hair Days

Not sure if they're bad hair days or good ones, but Hayden and I have settled into (somewhat of) a morning routine these days, the last step of which involves me fixing her hair. The easiest way to do this, given her size and my need for a mirror, is to set her on the edge of my sink while I work. The girl is FASCINATED by her own reflection - she thinks she is something else, let me tell you! and she often gives herself a standing ovation once we're done.

She typically starts the morning looking something like this:

(well, we both usually do)

Or, like this:

Which she thinks is riotously funny, by the way.

Add a little water, a brush, some hair ties, a LOT of squirming, a random 'toy' or two:

('Toy' by the way, is anything that qualifies as something I don't think she can open, spill, damage, hurt herself with, or eat. Well, eat all of. That is her daddy's lint roller. Earned me about 30 seconds to get the bow in that day. May not stick to squat now that it's been covered in massive amounts of drool and baby snot, but totally worth it, if you ask me.)

And after about 10 minutes (5 on a good day) of baby wrangling, laughing, splashing (when she's so kind to turn the faucet on for me while she's IN the sink), twisting, turning, sometimes crying, fun... she gets to enjoy the fruits of our labors...

...and continue to enjoy her 'toys'. This one is the ziploc full of teeny tiny hair ties that don't even come close to fitting around my ginormous fingers, which take me all of about a minute to suspend between the tippy-tippy-tips so I can try to snatch a wad of her hair long enough to make a couple passes and secure it before she dodges me again.

It's not always an easy process, and not always fun for either of us, but I can't tell you how grateful I am to get to be this little beauty's mom, and dress her and fix her hair and hold her and love her and hug and kiss her everyday.    It's these little moments, these little routines we have and things we do together, that make life so special and wonderful with her.  I wouldn't trade a minute of it or wish it away for the world.  I am looking forward to many more hair days, both good and bad, with my sweet little Haydie Pie.