JAM(B)

{16 months just the other day}

 

The A Report

Present dislikes are:
wiping your hands and face after a meal
changing clothes
getting your hair washed
brushing your hair
putting your hair up
pretty much anything having to do with your hair
being woken up
cutting new teeth (we all dislike that one)
cold milk

Likes:
shaking your head vehemently in indication of dislikes
grabbing Hanna's tail
feeding yourself
green beans, mashed potatoes, sweet tea
playing with the hairdryer
pacifiers

soft things (like blankets & "bobo"s)
taking the dogs out (i.e. letting you grasp part of Hannabelle's leash while we do the corralling)
being held when you're upset or not feeling well
grape Tylenol
daddy

Your happy dance is my current favorite personality trait. When you're super-excited about something (like, for instance, stealing a sip of chocolate shake for the first time), you cock a smile, start with a shoulder wiggle and then quick-jog tap dance in place. You only do this when extra-specially pleased, so it's a treat to catch.

Since one of your favorite things is being tickled by daddy, you've actually begun requesting it by eyeing daddy suspiciously, backing up and snickering in anticipation of the attack. You even say a version of "tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle!" like daddy does when tickling. Then you try to do it to him. Presh.

Yesterday mommy was getting you ready for school and had only managed to remove the top half of your pjs when you began flailing your arms wildly. Daddy found this highly amusing and starting singing "I'm so excited, I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it" in accompaniment (a la the Pointer Sisters - or Saved by the Bell - depending on your generational preference ;)  You then worked yourself up into even more of a tizzy and got down with a whole body shake. It was so funny to us that we just sat there laughing and singing as much as we could remember to keep you boppin. I'll have to remind daddy that encouraging you to dance topless is perhaps not the most intelligent of ideas in the future...
 

I just think you really like music. Wheels on the bus might be your favorite, since you can do most of the movements that go along with it (kind of like dancing). Sometimes you even get your dollies in on the action by shaking them to the beat (daddy taught you how). We have two "groovy girls" dolls, their bed and stroller that we purchased at a garage sale down the street. Interestingly, you most enjoy sitting on the bed yourself and persuading us to push you around in the stroller.
Yes, it's built for dolls.
No, that doesn't stop you.
Or us (like I've said before: enablers).



You can now feed yourself alarmingly well, if not with complete accuracy. The dogs are looking mighty plump as a result.
But you are a great eater, and you sign for hungry and all done (you could probably say it, but actions are more fun, right?). Most of the time, however, you just sign for "more." In relation to everything. I like to think that when I'm holding you or giving you kisses, you're signing for "more mommy love." Usually it ends up being food or a paci. Or daddy.

You are finding your voice, though, and have been repeating certain words we say. Helping me fold the laundry one weekend, you uttered a perfect "shirt." Crystal clear. 

Hasn't been repeated since.

Other things come up more often. When Mia drove you around one day and you heard her tell the other cars to "go, go, go!" you locked it in your memory and have been shouting "go, go, go!" every time we're in the car (and sometimes when we're not). You've recently changed it to "ho, ho, ho" in honor of the holidays.  :)

I guess the repetitive stuff is easier for you, because after watching the "grasshopper" episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, you began singing "bop, bop, bop" in response to "do the grasshopper..." That or we have just watched certain on-demand episodes waaaay to many times. You're even parroting the advertisement that comes on in between stuff when the moose says "ya-yuh... sweet!" Your imitation of him is spot-on.

For some reason, most of your memorable incidents happen at school. Though you've regressed to the scream-cry when I leave (save the few times I've managed to sneak out during snack), we are often greeted by one or more of your friends attempting to crawl into mommy's lap with you or bring you a toy. One particular morning, I sat you down and doggone it if every boy in class didn't flock to you en masse. I though it was just precious, if slightly alarming. Quite the greeting, little princess. You must have smelled of syrup...

On a random Thursday, Mia dropped you off and disclosed that you and Chase had slow-danced that day. While holding hands. It's probably best I didn't see it in person, 'cause I fully believe my heart would have shorted out for a minute over all that sweetness.

We've been giving in on the no-pacis-except-at-bedtime rule a bit due to your recent tooth resurgence. It just seems to comfort you, so we leave an emergency paci (or "e-pac") at school just in case. One morning after we washed our hands, you walked right over to a (somewhat hidden) spare toys bin, reached down between a few things, and plucked out YOUR paci. I looked at you incredulously and said "There's no way you hid that there purposely... right?" The paci-filled Cheshire cat smirk you shot back was confirmation enough.

Unfortunately, not all your school time is filled with cuteness and pleasantly entertaining stories of play. I'm sad to report that your class officially has a serial biter. We're pretty sure we know who it is, but when they call and send home the note, the euphemistic and PC phrase is "your child was bitten by a friend." Well apparently, your little friend decided to become a cannibal and go in for the kill by biting the crud out of your plump little rosy cheek. The red marks lingered for days. Not that I blame his desire to aim there, but a kiss would have been preferable. You poor, poor baby. As it says on the sheet VK sent home, the course of action after such an occurrence was to apply ice, hugs and kisses, but I bet that hurt and scared you something fierce. The next day when I dropped you off, we found your friend Chelsea with a matching red mark on her puffy cheek and the kids separated into two groups. When mommy told Ms. Alecia that I hate for you to have been a victim, but I was a little glad you weren't the biter, she said "Yeah, Ansley doesn't really bite. She tends to slap."
*sigh* Exactly. 

(I should at least mention here, though, that your swatting/slapping instinct does seem to have lessened. Conceivably, we've rounding that corner and with any luck it will soon pass. Though it's sure to resurface sometime around May 5th..)

I am happy to report that we've finally turned your carseat around, since you exceeded the weight limit just recently. I really don't think it was comfortable having to scrunch your long legs up against the back anyway, so the timing was good.

We're almost ready for the holidays now. You can tell by the guest room dedicated solely to your presents. And by the ornaments strewn about hung on the tree (daddy had the amazing idea to have you help us put up decorations, which has resulted in your constant desire to remove an ornament and then unsuccessfully "put it back"). And the fact that there was snow on the ground for a few days just a couple weeks ago. Mommy and daddy took you out to play briefly, but it was mighty cold and your boots were not of the "snow" variety—they left you slipping and sliding with a buildup of sticky flakes on the soles. You sure did look darling nonetheless.

 

And now on to your brother, baby B... or should I say baby Bryker because...

iT's A BoY!

Or, as Dr. Cousins so delicately puts it, "It's a penis!"

Good thing, too, because daddy says when he thinks about it, he's not sure he could've handled more hormone-filled balls of emotion like you and mommy without reinforcement.

I have to admit, it does feel like the pressure is off at least a little with this blog, because I know he simply will not be as interested to hear about his paci-flinging, potty training, daycare days of our lives as much as you (being a girl) probably will. But I'll try to keep it up all the same and devote parts to both you and him.

So here's the update on you, little mister Bryker Jon:

Around the 10 week mark, mommy went and had her eyes checked. My prescription hadn't changed, so they rewrote it and sent me on my merry way. Lo and behold, about a month later I was driving to work and something just didn't seem right. I couldn't focus, and things looked blurry. So I sucked it up and wore my (very old) glasses for a couple weeks before they could get me in to re-check. Come to find out, a little baby was messing with my head and somehow affected mommy's vision! The doc said it isn't very common, but he'd seen it before. Hopefully it will go back after you're born, but you never know. Maybe you just wanted to ensure that I saw the world differently with you.  ;)   Most definitely, baby.

Speaking of appearances, everybody says they can see you much more, and noticed you much earlier than your sister (since you're #2, I'm not surprised). Daddy thinks you're sitting lower down, thus perpetuating that "boys are carried lower" wives tale.

I felt your first movement around 17 weeks or so. You've been quite active since then; reassuring me when I get a little nervous and reminding me of your presence. I like the swirls and rolls. They're probably the thing I missed most about being pregnant when I wasn't. But having a sweet baby to actually hold in your arms remedies that pretty well. It's quite possible we'll get to the point where you're taking up a bit more space and the jabbing starts to hurt, but I'll just enjoy the mini-flips and twists for now. Literally, you're doing them as I type. Awwww. My little fishie.

After your anatomy ultrasound, mommy and daddy had a date night at Red Lobster to celebrate and conjecture about the teeball games and campouts of the future. Daddy is very excited about these things, so even if you're not really into them, if you wouldn't mind just pretending for a while, that would be great. Thanks, B. You're off the hook if your sister likes them. ;)

We took a few bets on what you'd be, but I'd had a boy feeling for a while. Of course, this convinced me that I was actually having a girl and something was trying to throw me off, but you, my sweet little one, have been blessedly easy on mommy. I don't know what it was that made me think I'd be violently ill with a wee lad (ok, I do know - it was my mom and the difficult time she had). Let's just say I know how lucky I am, and I'm thankful for it every day.

Maybe (to quote a clever friend) if He only gives you what you can handle, I can't handle much. I like to think that I'm just meant to have your daddy's babies, and perhaps several of them, so God is taking it easy on me. I know that's not necessarily true because tons of people who deserve to have the easiest pregnancies have really tough ones, but that's what I'll choose to believe for now. It's ok if I'm delusional, cause I'm pregnant.

Just last week, there were a flurry of events (outside the womb) that had mommy and daddy on full alert, but turned out to be relatively minor. After our annual friend holiday party, mommy was walking (yes just walking) to the car, stepped off the curb wrong and sprained my ankle. I fell to my hands and knees—mostly because I was carrying stuff and couldn't put any weight on the foot, and daddy came running. It's still just a little sore, but the worst part was not being able to carry and chase after your sister. She so did not understand that.  ;) 

And then two days later, coming home from work, mommy was rear-ended on Wendover. When I finally got ahold of daddy (on the one day he left his phone at the office) to tell him I was not hurt, but they were towing my car just in case the airbag deployed late, he stopped listening after "towing my car," decided it was totaled, then proceeded to call his entire family to let them know. I felt fine, save a small amount of whiplash, but we did want to be sure you were ok so daddy and Mia took me to the hospital to get everything checked out. You will not be allowed on Wendover during rush-hour until you're 25, by the way.

But now we're past the half-way mark and everything (that can be checked) checks out. Mommy was way too giddy about getting a few small Christmas presents just for you. Ansley will be opening them in your stead, since your own hands are kinda small and tucked inside mommy's belly right now (probably shielding your face, as you like to do during ultrasounds).

We are so overjoyed to add another bundle of love to the family in several short months. I sometimes think I'm still in shock and not really processing it. Daddy often forgets I'm pregnant (ok I'm not going to hide it; I do too. Only 'cause you're so wonderful and quiet. Just know that it's a too-good-to-be-true kind of scenario, kid). We can't wait to welcome you into the world. Hopefully not until April/May, though. Just sit tight till then ;)