Weekend Vignettes

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Saturday, approx. 5pm, my bathroom

I'm rushing around frantically trying to get dressed, put makeup on (!), and fix my hair. Hayden, meantime, has chosen this of all times for a meltdown. The vast assortment of toys, both parent-approved and Hayden-selected (my hairbrush, deodorant, and a bracelet) is doing nothing to settle her down. In a last ditch effort, I grab a box of tampons from under the counter. Seconds later, a cascade of them shower my bathroom floor. Then, wait... What is that sound?! Silence!!! Playing 52-tampon pickup is a small price to pay for 5 uniterrupted minutes for getting ready when you're already desperately late. Thanks, Playtex.

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Later that evening, at the work Christmas party, just after we've eaten dinner

One of the execs my hubby and I are chatting with subtly and quietly mentions, "Bon, you've got a litte bird in your grill there, I thought I'd let you know." Chris, hearing this, chimes in, "Oh yeah! I meant to say something about that!" Crap, I thought, perfect time to get chicken stuck in my teeth! I turn away and start trying to dislodge the offending fowl and upon realizing what I'm doing, my coworker clarifies, "Oh, no, Bon. I meant you have a bird that got stuck in the grill of your car!" It's then that I remember the small feathered creature that dove in front of our car on the way to the party. I'm not sure what's worse - walking around a party with food stuck in your teeth, or showing up to such an elegant event with a dirty car (full of baby gear, might I add, and who knows what else) adorned with a dead bird. And parking up front by the door. Lovely.

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Sunday Morning, around 8:30am

Chris awakes to hear a small voice calling. For him. "Da.... Da! Dahh Dahhh! Da da da da dah dah da!" Hayden, who has been saying "Da-da" for a week or so now on the rare occasion, wanted to make sure he knew who she was looking at! She wanted her Da-da to come get her out of bed. Despite wanting to roll over and go back to sleep, he got up and got his little buddy.

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Later that afternoon

We sold the oven! YAY! Going, going, GONE! Finite! No More. Done! Then we decided to 'celebrate' by getting the remaining few items out of our storage building and finishing our move. If I haven't mentioned before, Chris and I don't move stuff well together. That's why we built the house, in fact. So we will never have to move again. Our marriage is pretty strong, but another buffet that weighs as much as the one in our living room, and we might not make it. For as similar as we are in values, goals, tastes, etc, that is one area that we are WAY different. If I see that it makes sense to pick something up, turn it on it's side and carry it in the house, Chris sees that we should flip it over, pick it up, start moving it while one of us only has one hand on it, and see if we can't mash the other hand a few times before we set it down. See? We just look at stuff differently. It's not that one of us is right (me) and the other is wrong (him), it's just that we have our own approaches (me, careful planning and assessment. Him, run headlong at it with our eyes closed) to things like this. And that's okay, so long as we don't have to work together much. Happily, we seem to have worked out a little system that helps us both get through these situations without too many hurt feelings or fingers. It involves a good amount of name calling, cursing, obscene gesturing, and a few hugs and kisses (and hair-pulling and arm-pinching). Hey, it works for us. :)

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Later that night

Hayden is sitting on her Grandma's lap, and they are looking through the weekly circulars from the local drugstore that have become Hayden's favorite 'books.' Grandma points out the different pictures to Hayden, "See the little boy on the swing? He's having fun!" "See the little cat, it's giving that doggie a kiss, isn't it?" As she read that last one, Hayden looked up at her and becan blowing kisses. It still amazes me that at less than a year old her comprehension is so well-honed that she understood what Grandma was saying to her! Genius baby, I tell ya!

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Counting down...

My thoughts have been swirling all week about the fact that my daughter, my baby, is about to turn a year old. I almost can't bear the thought! I find myself clutching her to me, especially during those middle of the night wakings, cuddling her against my chest, burying my nose in the sweet scent of her hair and warm baby neck. Willing the clock to slow down, for just a moment or two, and let me capture the memory of her wee hands clutching to my shoulders as she slumps, trusting, into me. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have this last forever! It breaks my heart, it really does, to have to face the fact that she is -literally - stepping away from babyhood and moving into her childhood. How do I bear this???

I continue to console myself with the excitement and joy I find at each new milestone and accomplishment she reaches, knowing that each stage she leaves behind promises something new and equally endearing for me to love about her next phase.

For now, I want to take a few moments to reflect on my little baby. My Hayden, and who she is today, on the eve of her first birthday.

Hayden:

Hayden loves books - books, magazines, newspapers, loose papers, anything with writing and pictures, and she studies all the details. She has her favorite pages in "Mother Goose" - Baa, Baa Black Sheep, and The Crooked Little Man. She loves to sit in her Grandma's lap and let her read to her, or to sit in Papa's lap as he points out the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth on the babies in her picture books.

Hayden loves my phone. Her daddy's phone. Any phone. Remote controls, the mouse for the computer... anything electronic. She turns them over and studies every detail, looking at the screws and screens, and delighting in pushing the buttons.

She loves "Tickle Bee", giving "5", blowing kisses, giving us kisses (usually open-mouthed slobber-kisses, followed by the hysterical cackles of an amused babe), clapping, and listening to music of any kind.

Hayden enjoys eating dried fruits, Cheerios, puffs, and baby Goldfish crackers. She likes french fries, and bits of chicken. Bananas, and pears are an occasional treat, and she loves drinking from a straw. Don't try to give her a sippy cup, though - she has no patience for those. She wants whatever Mommy's drinking, and makes the cutest little "aaahhhhh!" whenever she takes a sip.

Hayden is learning to walk, and continues to surprise me when I see her toddle by. She is losing the "crab-crawl" and starting to crawl more like most babies. She loves for you to chase her, or to chase you, around the house, and you can hear her squeal if you get close to catching her.

She wears her hair in ponytails most days, and is very patient when her mommy styles it. She's grown to enjoy bathtime, and splashes away in the tub with all her toys. She has fun with puppy dogs, and likes to let them lick her hands. and tries to grab their noses.

She is an even-keeled, laid-back little girl, full of life and smiles and energy, who loves to study the details of the world around her, understands almost anything you tell her, and loves her family, friends and teachers so much.

She's the apple of my eye, my heart outside my heart, my true love, and I am just so grateful to be her mom.

Night Terrors

The other night, Chris was out of town, and it was just Haydie Pie and I at home. After she konked out for the evening, I let her stay in bed with me (with the appropriate amount of pillows and blankets to keep her from rolling off the other side of the bed), because let's face it - I needed the company as much as she did. She's a fun little companion in bed, except for the occasional kick to my head (how did she get her feet up there? Seriously, she was just curled up in a ball on top of her bunny bear!), or finger in my eye.

Somewhere in the midst of the windstorm outside, the blinking electricity, Hayden awaking and other random stuff that got me up throughout the night, I was able to get deep enough asleep that I was actually dreaming. Ah, dreams! Ahhhh, sleep!!!! Anyway, it was a very wierd dream, as mine ususally are, and got to this one point that Chris, my sister Grace and I were being chased by a lady with a gun.

Oh - I should back up a little now. You see, I talk in my sleep. Talk, scream, babble, and on the very rare occasion move. I've never actually walked -that was Grace's gig - but I did one time fall off a building in a dream and awoke when I landed face first on my bed - hard. Most of the time, I am just an amusement for Chris, as I drift off to sleep and begin quoting absurd variations of what is going on in my head. He loves to egg me on, until he's done and ready to go to sleep and I won't shut up, but that's another post, really.

So, back to my dream. This lady has a gun in her pocket, and at some point we knocked her down on the ground, and she's trying to pull the gun from her pocket, and I realize this is a key moment we can overtake and disarm her. So I yell to Chris and Grace, "GET HER!" and I pounce on her, grabbing her arms to keep her from getting the gun.

This is when I awoke to Hayden wailing her discontent at me. And I realized I was on top of her, clutching her to me.

Ooops! She wasn't at all hurt, but needless to say, she wasn't really happy with me, and had no objections when I put her back in her crib for the rest of the night.