Separationally-Challenged

Daddy is still resistant to your growth. I mean I'd like to keep you a baby as long as possible, but am aware that at some point, Peter Pan, everyone has to grow up. So I said to your (normally intelligent, fairly rational) father "I mean I'd like her to stay little too, but what what do you want to do, block her development?" His answer was a firm and immediate "yes." Okaaaaay...

Then as we prepared you for bed, he tells me "I love that I can just tap her on the bottom randomly and it's not weird because I'm her dad." He is so going to purposefully embarrass you when you get older. Can't wait for that.  ;)

Speaking of love taps, you (little miss bright eyes) have been contracting quite the attitude lately. Mia says it's because you're so intelligent that you're reading us and trying to figure out how to get what you want. I just think you get frustrated and don't know how else to communicate. But honestly, there are times when you freak the h out. The most notable example stems from your recent love-affair with Bo. Though he remains wary of your tiny presence, Bo has grown more tolerant as of late. He graciously allows you to pat, climb, pull and mouth him with as much zeal as your little body can possibly possess. You love to play the "mess with Bo until he lumbers off and then chase him to another location and repeat" game. I'm not sure Bo knows you're playing. If we at any point interrupt this bonding (by picking you up), you thrash and whine and twist about as though set on fire. I would think you were in pain if I didn't know better. Current tactics to disarm this bomb include distracting you with whatever toy or person is available, removing you from the room/situation, and bribing you with food. Just kidding about the last one. Taking you away seems to help, but it's tough. It's crazy to me that we're having to deal with this already. Aren't you supposed to stay a baby a little longer? I may be starting to see daddy's point of view on this whole not growing up thing...

Maybe with our own stubborn selves, we should have known you'd be strong-willed. But if this is your first challenge, bring it on. We will nip it in the bud, my little diva. A battle of wills. 'Cause you know what princess? We can out-stubborn you. 

I'm sorry to do it and you may hate me for it sometimes, but you can't always get what you want. If you cry sometimes, though, you might find you get what you need.... 

(I'm joking. We will always try to meet your needs. That's what parents are for.)

The other side of this strange, misshapen parenting coin is that you've also been experiencing bouts of separation anxiety. You have a few favorite people in the world and everyone else is just scenery. Scenery that does not hold the baby...

The preference tier is as follows:

1. Mia

2. Daddy / Bo

3. Miss Alecia and/or Miss Nevona

4. Mommy

5. Granny

etc. (you get the picture)

For one reason or another, Mia is the absolute apple of your eye. To you, no one is more glorious and deserving of your love than your Mia Sally. Well, daddy might run a close second; but if your beloved Mia is around, you only have eyes for her! We discovered this during our week at the beach when you would cry for Mia if mommy took you and reach upside-down-backwards in search of her embrace. 

And hey, where's the "I don't love one parent more than the other; I love them both equally" filter, kid? Aren't you supposed to be born with that? At times when daddy hands you off and I want nothing more than a hug or snuggle, you scream bloody murder (and a pathetic "dadada" on a loop) to return to your fave. I'm sure this makes daddy feel good, but I have to secretly squelch the tears because admitting it hurts my feelings is ludicrous. You don't mean anything by it, I know. But I want so badly for you to love me. I mean I'm sure you do, but I'm emotionally high-maintenance and need the reassurance. Blessedly, daddy and Mia understand and give mommy extra hugs for support. And daddy had a wonderful suggestion of greeting one another before we greet you. That way we can show you the correct hierarchy. It's mommy and daddy; then you. I think the theme here is "this is our world, and we're fitting you in."

And now (since I've mainly written about your noncompliance so far and am feeling a tad guilty because it's really such a small part of your world), I'd like to share some of the things I love about you at almost 10 months(!):

• When you pull up on something and then turn around and wobble a step or two towards me I get so excited (but then I realize that walking = toddler and you're not my little baby anymore, and it makes me less anxious... ). Daddy's probably thinking of any way possible to keep you from taking those steps, but I'm afraid it's imminent.

• You're eating everything (thank daddy for that) with your pinschers, which is basically the most adorable way I can think of to get your dietary allowance. We like to lay it out on the tray and let you go for the gold. Puffs and breadcrumbs turn up just about everywhere, but I'm sure some of it actually lands in your mouth...   The most recent of daddy's ill-conceived food tasting choices? Dorito cheese straight from the finger. Am I on television?

• If you happen to be sleeping and wake up to a face you love (see list above), you burst into that shining smile and start waving hello. That floppy little gesture just melts me to pieces.

• Evidently, you can now produce dog sounds. Miss Nevona shared with me today that you have the "ruff ruff ruff" down pat. You are becoming quite proficient in jibberish as well. I bet you and Bo have secret conversations..

• Often when we play, you create your own obstacle course just so it will require you to climb over us and back again. You particularly enjoy shimmying monkey-style up daddy's chest while he's sideways and rolling over to his back. Gymnast? Maybe. Daredevil? Clearly. I'll start practicing the fastest routes to the hospital.

• At daycare, you have a sleep mat (on account of the pulling up in your crib thing). Daddy and I find it impossible to buy that you actually fall asleep there and stay still, but your teachers insist. When daddy picked you up yesterday, they divulged that you were so ready to nap at 2:30, you voluntarily dragged yourself over and laid down on your mat without prompting. Aw!

• You're loving water (aside from the ocean waves, but they scare me too so we're not counting that). Daddy waded with you at Aunt Jennifer's 30th birthday Tie-Dye and pool party, which was your first time in a big girl pool. You do have precisely 9 bathing suits—several of which are bikinis that may or may not be wildly inappropriate for a baby—so I certainly hope you continue this water infatuation. I'll put some beach pictures up asap.  :)  

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• You also have a preference for water from a plastic bottle (sadly, I am not kidding—but I think it's because you find it necessary to envelop the opening while drinking). If it's not in the bottle, a straw will do the trick. And despite daddy's major sippy-cup resistance, he is happy to teach you to use a real cup. Observe:

• You dance. Not that I'm shocked in any way, considering the 2 bachelorette parties, 2 weddings, numerous dance dance revolution battles and countless super baby dance parties of your "youth." And you love music. Granny contends that country is your fave. Traitor. You are my baby, right? I'm hoping to catch you on daddy's phone because corroboration exists only on the camcorder at this juncture. But it is too too cute. 

No, you're not in that video, but I'm just sayin'.. I won't be surprised if they contact you for the next one.

In other news, Aunt Jennifer and Uncle Jay recently welcomed your future crush, Graham Nance Weaver, just over a week early on June 9th. 

Isn't he great at his job? (sleeping)

He is as little, beautiful, and sweet as can be, and I have to apologize in advance that you will not be allowed to date him, as apparently this would be awkward for your father and Uncle Jay. (You can take it up with them). But I'm sure you'll be great friends and you can show him all sorts of good stuff like how to fling pacis and eat sand. Jake still has your heart for the time being anyway.*   ;)    

*I really am joking about these things. But it's only because I so want you to bond with your non-related cousins. I know you're all very popular in your own circles, but mommy and your aunts are kinda close. So if you wouldn't mind humoring us, playing with one another and at least trying to be pals, we'd greatly appreciate it. And I bet you'll have some great stories when you're older (you know, when you're all about to graduate from UNC).

You Got Swag

Recently, Jon bought a truck. Though I stood vehemently opposed to such a thing; preferring SUV over truck 10-to-1 (you know, for family vacations? transporting things in a covered area? extra seating?), I'm swallowing my pride and admitting that - ok - as far as trucks go... it's really nice. I will even admit to thoroughly enjoying the power of sitting high above all the toy cars and jamming out to my ipod while driving said truck. Since I'd always conceded that it was Jon's new vehicle and his decision, I didn't exactly have much sway in the matter anyway (though obviously it didn't stop me from voicing my opinion...). My sole caveat was that there be enough space to comfortably fit a car seat. 

Now, Jon has his dream vehicle (the first new car he's ever owned), Ansley fits (regardless of the fact that I will at some point do a face plant attempting to hoist her high enough to clear its massive frame), and my husband feels like a man. In the words of a wise girlfriend "every man needs a truck." Ok, I get it.

So you may be wondering, but what about the minivan/swaggerwagon? Why not consider that other sweet ride? It's true that if our family is blessed to multiply much further, we may start feeling the need for an even larger mode of transportation. But the van I will resist with much more fervor than the truck. Not because it isn't nice (and seriously, nothing against anyone who has one because they are truly the cadillac of child-transportation instruments), but because I have always wanted an SUV. Perhaps with a little luck, we'll manage to skip the van stage. But I have to say, it is kind of hard to resist with ads like this:

If Jon and I were in a commercial, it would totally be this one. 

And, for totally gratutitous ridiculousness, the music video:

Where my dawgs at?

I'd meant to blog about this some time ago, but kept forgetting, so though the following occurred months ago, I wanted to make note of it anyway.

There happened to be one morning that daddy left early for work, and mommy set you down in your pack 'n play and situated it in front of the bathroom door to keep an eye on you while I showered. You seemed to be perfectly fine, babbling senselessly and crawling from one toy to the next. After a few minutes, you stood up in the corner and stayed there for a while, but I didn't think much of it since you were probably just staring at your mirror twin, which is one of your favorite activities. But lo and behold, when I stepped from the shower, I spied your partner in crime Hannahbelle lying there next to you, basking in the morning sun. This was obviously before mommy assembled and put up the gate, but doggies (and they know this) are not allowed upstairs under any circumstance— due in large part to the poohfest incident of 2009 when Little Miss Trouble flung excrement wildly about in almost every room the day after we installed [very plush, expensive, beige-colored] new carpet. The images still haunt my dreams.. 

Anyway, I was gearing up to give HB a major scolding for daring to cross the upstairs threshold when I realized that perhaps there was a chance she actually thought she needed to watch over you while I was otherwise occupied. I startled her when I emerged from the bathroom, and as she retreated hastily back downstairs, I felt a tinge of guilt. I could see you at all times, so you were never really in danger, but Hannah didn't know that. She was stealthguarding you in my absence, and had probably been there the whole time. And I suppose mommy was secretly proud that she felt so protective. I'm telling you, one day you and Hannahbelle will be inseparable. She may do a lot of things wrong, but she must know that being sweet to you can make up for most of it. And it's good to know that sometimes, your dogs have your back.   ;)