Day-to-Day A

{13 months - and a pinch}

August was a really busy month for us, what with the 4 birthdays in 1 1/2 weeks at the end of it. We celebrated your "first" with almost all of your aunts and uncles, and of course all the g-rents. It was a big turnout for such a little girl (I cannot explain to you how lucky you are little one), and though you were a bit timid at first, you warmed up quickly and walked around surveying the partygoers much of the time. I don't think you were too crazy about the cake on your hands (or maybe it was the 30 people watching you expectantly and blinding you with pictures ;) but you were a good sport and rubbed an adequate amount of chocolate frosting on your face for our amusement.

You also racked up on the presents, and since mommy still feels bad about not getting around to those thank-you notes in time, I hope everyone will forgive me and accept a blanket thank you SO MUCH for the heaps of adorable clothes, toys, bibs, frames and books they all brought. We are so grateful just to have those amazing people in our lives; gifts are above and beyond. [Basically, your friends and family rock].

Mommy had an insignificant number birthday (alright it was the big 3-0) at the end of August, for which daddy got us tickets to New York. It was the first time we'd left you for more than a day/night (wow can you believe we spent a year by your side? ;) and we were nervous as all get out. But the grandparents picked up our slack, had a blast keeping you occupied and helped you forget about mommy and daddy for a few days. We were busy in The City, but missed you terribly and kept our phones handy for quick photo-fixes of your cuteness. Somehow, we made it through. But boy were we happy to see you!!! Guess that separation anxiety works both ways...

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My favorite thing about you now at just over one year is that you're all of a sudden incredibly eager to sit in my lap. I just find it so endearing that you actually make it a point to run over with toy or (wonder of wonders) book in hand, turn around and plop down for me to play with or read to you. The deliberateness is utterly charming. 

(laying in Bo's "lap")

Perhaps because of this lap-sitting impulse, your interest in books has skyrocketed (cue chorus of angels). You LOVE (and by love I mean are obsessed with) "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" We play it on a loop, with you turning the pages faster than I can repeat the rhythmic refrain.

Mia recently revealed to me that you have also been practicing your fake smile (or "Chandler smile," as I like to call it). Apparently, it's a give and take thing. Mia does the fake smile and you flash one in return. I've only seen it in her presence, but it's wonderfully silly. You're such a goofball.

You and daddy have also started a tradition of waking up early on Saturday (and thus, blessedly giving mommy an extra hour or two of sleep) to visit granny, grandpa and pa pa. The weather has been beautiful as of late, so your preferred method of transportation to these playdates is the green plastic car mommy found at consignment.

You basically just get to run around, eat and soak up the attention on these visits, so I know you must thoroughly enjoy it. But I think your grands enjoy it just as much.  :)

Sadly, we had a run-in with your first ear infection over Labor Day weekend. But to get past a year without one is doing pretty dern good, so mommy won't complain too much. The worst part was seeing you all pitiful and in pain and not being able to help. Not surprisingly, you loved the bubble-gum-flavored amoxicillin.

Let's see, what else is going on in your world? You are:
 

• Downing food like a champ, though you still refuse milk that is not optimally heated. This is a problem. 

• Breaking my heart with the separation anxiety. When I take you to school and you literally scream as I tear myself away, I have to force-plaster the "reassuring smile" on my face. It does not help. 

• Enamored with your daddy. Apparently tickle-fights and chasing are your weaknesses.

• Becoming a philanthropist. Clearly you must think the dogs are starving and have no food to eat that does not come from the floor, because you've taken to tossing pieces overboard during mealtimes (both when we are and are not looking). The dogs love you. 

(Wait... have you been bribing Bo this whole time??!?!!)

• Not a fan of eating out. I realize this is probably because it necessitates you being strapped to a chair and not running around like an escaped monkey, but dude. It doesn't matter what toy, cup, utensil or person we try to bribe you with: you will tolerate only a set amount of time in the chair and no more. Apologies to any innocent patrons who've witnessed "the breaking point." It's not pretty.

• Conversely, loving the outdoors and anywhere you can explore without bounds. Since we don't yet have two baby gates, this includes the stairs and has required a hasty lesson in proper descent and stair dismount. 

• Well on your way to a full set of teeth. 4 on top, 4 on bottom, and molars starting to come in. I do wish they'd hurry up and get here already and stop hurting your poor little mouth, but you're so sweet and don't complain about the pain.

• Very interested in daddy's hair. Though you've become more tolerant of accessories in your own curly tresses, it's the banker coif you most enjoy petting and rubbing against your face these days (a la soft doggy fur?). Not sure why, since it's most certainly gelled in place and can't really have the silken touch you're so fond of, but oh well. It's cute. Plus, when daddy bends down to let you pat his head, you lean against him and then move your face from side to side for some Eskimo kisses. Precious. 

• Miss independent. You seize the toothbrush from my clutch when brushing your teeth, force me to relinquish the spoon mid-scoop and insist on carrying everything yourself (including the wondrously overstuffed "round dog," who is almost your height and four times as wide). I love it.

• Happy, smiley, full of life, and pretty much the perfect one year old!! You are so beautiful and such a blessing, it's almost hard to believe you're mine. It's like sometimes I can see God's light shining through you and beaming right out at me, and I'm amazed my heart doesn't just burst from the sheer magnitude of my love for you.

You were even such a trooper at your one-year photo shoot that you managed to smile through the pain of an earache and teething and let Lindsey capture some pretty shots. What a good girl you are.  :)

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.   ;)

Mobile Munchkin

{8.5 months going on 13}


nooo! my child has become a mean girl! (or at the very least, joined the paci police). last week was precious jake's first week at school, and you decided to make it super-easy (major sarcastic undertone) by crawling over as soon as i set you down, standing(ish) above him, grabbing his paci and throwing it away (in a "seriously, you don't need this here; i'm just gonna relieve you of it" kind of way). and you did so with the efficiency of a hawk snatching its prey. jaclyn thinks maybe you're just trying to "assert your seniority" and show everyone that although you're little, you're no pushover. i would hate to think of my darling, sweet girl as a bully, so i'm claiming that you were really just preparing to go in for some lovin. you are, after all, a shameless flirt.. 

(see?)

and not just with the little guys! at lunch just last week, you could not take your eyes off the young blonde surfer boy who came in as we ate. you were babbling away, banging two toys together, and literally stopped mid-play to watch him make his order. you were distracted by his beauty for a good five minutes, which is a dang long time for a baby. luckily, we were at jimmy john's, so he got his sub freaky fast and left. daddy is still your number one guy, though. and we like it that way. preferably until you're about 18.  

another recent development at daycare has been the need for us to sign a "sleep waiver," because you allegedly refuse to remain on your back during naps and your teachers seem to have grown tired of flipping you around.  ;)  ok so this isn't news to us. on a number of occasions, i will admit, we've put you to bed and check an hour later to find you snoring away on your tummy with your bottom up in the air and legs tucked underneath you. you've also grown to prefer starting out on your side. and honestly, though i know back is best and would absolutely never forgive myself if something happened, i kind of feel like  a baby's gonna sleep how a baby wants to sleep (especially if she's little miss mobile and does crib gymnastics like you do). i'm more comfortable on my side, too. 

you're crawling all natural-like now, and seriously i feel like we went from infant to toddler in a week because you're pulling up on everything and cruising around just like a real little human (ok yes i know that's what you are, but it's clearly surreal for mommy to watch you growing before my eyes)!

(multitasking)

(the plastic bottle - still one of your favorite playthings. 

sigh.)

(and your new favorite toy)

(hmm.. sweetie I'm not sure that particular thing should go in your mouth)

and random/cute sidenote: daddy often falls asleep downstairs to the drone of the television (he claims it's the only thing that puts him out. and since our room remains technologically-challenged, the den is his preferred nocturnal habitat). as i'm sure i've mentioned before, daddy has some strange sleep habits and it often results in incoherent babbling or some form of sleepwalking. in the wee hours of the night last week, he tromped upstairs and fell into bed and i said "goodnight sweetie, i love you." to which he replied "night babygirl. i love you so much."

over the weekend we let daddy sleep in while we redecorated the bonus room with your toys. the dogs started barking randomly as they sometimes do (to alert us that there is a squirrel or rabbit that needs our attention), and apparently it woke him. you and i watched/listened helplessly as daddy leapt out of bed, ran to the stairs and somehow launched himself clear over most of them, landing about 4 steps from the bottom. when the dust settled, he came in the room and admitted that he was half-asleep and convinced we were downstairs in danger. i think maybe he was reenacting his childhood superman fantasy .. just kidding.

Takes My Breath Away

Jon, I love you, and that is why you must see this. 


I admit that I did something I've never done before when I saw it for the first (and second, and third) time. I shed more than a couple tears watching a PSA! And yes, I was at work. It's just so beautifully done and incredibly poignant, I couldn't not share it. 


(Ok, the "arms of an angel" humane society commercial also brings me to tears, but I'd never subject others to a repeat viewing. I just really appreciate this one).

Welcome Home

Night 1

Captain's Log - 11:42 pm:
All is quiet in James Landing. Like, wow. No jammin' rap music thundering from an SUV across the street? No couples arguing at volumes well above normal level outside our window or strange popping noises that may or may not originate from a firearm??? Definitely no rhythmic shuddering of the door near the AC unit. Dogs are still - for the moment. I'm not sure I can sleep with all this quiet.   ;)  Sweet...

7:28 am: 

Woke up to a strange ticking sound, dogs barking spastically and Jon's frantic cry: (quote) MCKENZIE GET OUT OF THE HOUSE, NOW. GET OUT. Holy crap. As I can see all heck has broken loose (it was only a matter of time really), I grab my purse, throw on a sweatshirt and wrangle Hannah into a leash before stumbling outside to have a panic attack for 20 minutes. 

So I'm standing on our neighbors' wet grass in a fog thinking 'What the heck happened? Did our check bounce and they're taking the house back or something?' when Jon abruptly shouts an all-clear and ushers me back inside, where he proceeds to tell me that he had in fact woken up to that strange ticking noise, gone downstairs and found a water jug leaking onto one of the burners on our gas stove, causing it to flip out. Since the whole natural gas thing is new to us, he (justifiably) panicked that the gas was leaking and thought only of my safety. This is good because it means I can forgive the stern tone and angry-Jon voice he used to get me out of the house. 

While I contemplate the early hour and recover from the near-heart-attack I've just had, Hannah notices the open garage door and promptly bolts through it. Oops. Apparently, Jon had wisely seen the need for ventilation and opened all doors and windows during the commotion (which I didn't realize when unleashing the monster). 20 minutes later, Jon has managed to capture our escapee and we breathe a collective sigh of relief ...

... until I watch in slow-motion horror as Hannah looks out through our open dining room window, props her front feet up, turns back to me just long enough to smile mockingly and jumps through. 

Awesome.