10 Months

Dear Annie,
I am sorry this is a few days late but we have been very busy chasing you around. Yes, you are on the move officially. You crawl everywhere and are very proficient at picking up every little speck of dirt to show me. I guess it's better than you eating it. You are eating just about everything we eat (or at least you want to try it). You still get most of your food as prepared baby food because Mommy is a horrible cook. I really do want to work on getting better at cooking food for you, so when you can actually remember things, it won't be of me microwaving something out of a jar. My goal is for you to read this in 20 years and say, "Mom, I didn't know you couldn't cook!". Here's hoping.

You are still in size 3 diapers and had a bit of a growth spurt recently. You busted right through your 6-9 month clothes and most of the things you wear now are 12-18 months. You love to dance and will stop and drop it down low and give the belly a good shake when you hear a beat you like. It's absolutely wonderful.

We are officially serious about baby-proofing now and are putting up gates to keep you from climbing the stairs. We had previously taken the glass sliding doors off of the entertainment center because I kept envisioning you taking a header into the glass panes. However, now you are obsessed with all the stereo components and love to push all the buttons. You are truly your father's daughter. To keep you out of that cabinet, we purchased what can only be described as a "cage" (don't worry, no roof on this cage). It will also keep you confined to one protected portion of the basement until you are out of the spitting up phase that should have stopped by now.

Escape from the bathroom. You look so small in this picture. In my head you are so very big.

I would like to unfold all this laundry, please. Note all the spit up stains on the new carpet.

In the walker, getting warmed up for a morning walk.

Pulling up to stand, which is you most favorite new trick. You love it so much you skipped an entire day of naps this past Saturday to spend that time standing, screaming, and falling and standing and screaming.... You get the picture.

Twenty years from now I want to remember how you make a sweet squeaky noise when you see your favorite toys (currently a stuffed Elmo), how you spit your food out when you are finished eating, how your little sticky hands and knees sound slapping on the hardwood floors, how sweet your smiling face looks coming around the corner to find me, how you tilt yourself almost at a 45 degree angle and barrel forward in your walker until you ram into a wall/table/doorframe, how you clench and unclench your hands and reach for me when you want me to pick you up or I have something you want, and how determined you are to crawl, climb, shimmy and shake, all without any fear. Part of the prayer I say for you every night is that you grow to be strong, brave, confident, and kind, and I now realize that you already are. I hope you never change.

I love you sweet girl,

Mom

More, Please.

I have been working on Annie's sign language, specifically the sign for "more". Back before I had a baby, I thought that teaching a baby to sign would not give them any incentive to learn to talk. I think I was really over-estimating their abilities to sign, or inability to do both. Basically, once I saw a college friend's kid sign at lunch when I was pregnant with Annie, I was convinced that our child would do that.

So I have been working on it for a while. Like, oh, say, three months. Granted, not constantly but there wasn't really much indication she was down with the signing. But something clicked this past week and it probably had something to do with the fancy Trader Joe's O's she's now addicted to, but we are "more-ing" like maniacs over here now. I was originally thrilled that all our work had paid off and our brilliant child was now "speaking" to us.

Then I realized, there are lots of opportunities for "more" in her day. We wake up and go to change the diaper..."more". She finishes her bottle..."more". Getting out of the car seat..."more". Tired and headed to bed..."more". And of course, more looks a lot like her clapping, so that's confusing.

Then there's the possibility that she doesn't even know "more" but is just spastically slamming her hands together, but I really don't believe that to be true. Not our genius baby. And then there's the fact that if she really is signing for more O's, then that does not mean we are obligated to give them to her, particularly after she's had a ton of them. So now in addition to learning words, she's learning disappointment in her parents. I guess both are lessons to best get out of the way early.

Busy

I have dreaded this week for some time. Jen, Annie's sitter, had the nerve to go with her family to Disney World this week and it just happened to be a week that I have a work conference and Rick is taking a course to become a certified playground safety inspector. So that means no days for either of us at home. Thank the sweet Lord that other St. Louis schools are also on Spring Break so sweet Aunt Shisha offered up her break to watch Annie. And Uncle Hapster happens to be available to assist in the baby watching efforts. I have known it would be a stressful week regardless of the child-watching situation, so I will be oh so thankful when it is over.

My brain is worn out from trying to understand presentations by people that are significantly smarter than myself, so I am going to post some pics from the last week because just making words is proving to be difficult.

Loving swim lessons, which could also be called "keep your child from drinking the pool sessions"

Chillin at the Dog Town St. Patrick's day parade

Taking a keen interest in the stairs. Barricading devices will be purchased this weekend.

Learning to take pictures of herself with the phone

Showing off new jammers and her teeth.

I am so thankful for family that loves this sweet girl so much and takes such good care of her. Thank you all so much for making this dreaded week so much easier.

Spring

I never had spring fever before Annie. I liked the winter; bundling up with the prospect of snow which would give me a good reason to work from home. Having a baby in the winter means shoving little spaghetti arms into layers upon layers of clothes, only to strip them down when you get to Target (that's the only place I go, I feel), then wipe the cart down with 114 wipes because it's cold and flu season and your child loves nothing more than to "make out" with the grocery cart. Then shoving her back into all those clothes when it's time to leave (this is assuming you removed them in the first place; there have been several times where Annie is bundled to Ralphie proportions while scooting around Target) and if you are feeling EXTRA humanitarian-ish (that's a word, I am certain), you wipe down the cart because it's your child that has a steady drip at the nose and she's slimed the entire thing down but good.

Given this level of effort, it's no surprise that I often opted to not go anywhere with Annie during the winter. And so there we would be, hanging at the crib, and I am sure there were a few times I caught her staring at me with a "oh it's you again, and this basement, and these toys....excellent" type of countenance. I love my baby girl, but I think we were both getting sick of the view in that house.

I have never been more thankful for spring than I am this year. I can say that with 100% certainty. Annie pulled her socks off this morning on the way to Jen's, as she does EVERY morning, and I didn't have to worry about her getting frostbite in the transfer from the car to the house. No hats to constantly reattach to her little head, the nose is not running (knock wood), the sleeves are short today, Rick and I slept with a window open, and the tree is blooming in the front yard.

Spring tastes extra good this year.

Big Girls

Those of you paying close attention and have functioning long term memories (what? who?) may recall that my cousin, David, and his beautiful wife had TRIPLETS. Three babies. Three baby girls. And did I mention they have an older baby boy that will turn four in one month and one day? I am breaking out into a sweat just typing this.

Today marks the very first birthday of these lovely ladies. If I had to guess, the picture goes (left to right), Jane, Julia, and Emma. I have a 50-50 chance on the Emma/Jane guess.

If I am being honest, there has been more than one occassion when I have thought "this is only one baby; I can handle this". So tonight I raise my glass to the Watson family and two parents that make rearing four children under four look good and for regularly giving me perspective.