28 Months

Dear Annie,

You are 28 months old now. Or six, which is your answer when people ask your age. Thankfully, you don't act six just yet. You love playing with princesses and puzzles are your latest obsession. You seem to know that I am incapable of leaving an unfinished puzzle on the ground, so dumping out your alphabet puzzle right before lights out has become your most effective nighttime stalling routine.

 

Going to bed has gotten much easier. At nap time I usually sit in the room with you until you fall asleep, which takes about 10 minutes. At night, we read a few books (or we read your book of pictures of your "friends" from school 5x) and then one of us sits with you until you ask for something (feet covered, water, a wipe for your face, kiss a boo boo) and we comply with one request and then we leave the room. This has been fairly successful. There is sometimes a return trip required but it's fairly quick.

 

You have endless energy. You love to be outside and play "ball game", which essentially involves throwing the ball up in the air and avoiding it on the way down. Now that the weather has cooled, I love being out there with you. We stockpile pine cones and look for worms and pretend we are getting blown away by the wind and you always come to my rescue.

 

You are currently existing on a diet of peanut butter (eaten off a spoon, because who wants to waste time with bread?), yogurt, fruit, goldfish/pretzels, and sometimes pasta. At dinner time I always give you what we are eating plus some yogurt. You eat the yogurt and say "all done!" and want to get down. I have essentially just let this item go for now. You are growing and I know you will come around eventually. We do practice waiting until we are all finished eating to leave the table, which makes you crazy but you get over it.

 

You had still been sleeping with your binkie, though there wasn't much left to it other than a handle and a plastic nub. But you would still ask for it and I figured it wasn't causing any dental harm any more, so why not? You would sleep with it clutched in your hand and as you would fall asleep, it would inevitably drop and if you were sleeping on your stomach, it would drop behind your bed. You would then wake up at 2:00 in the morning, frantically searching for binkie and we would end up turning on flashlights, moving the bed, and it was all very disruptive. Not to mention the fact that bending over right now is on my list of "Most Hated Things to Do". I could just hear me chatting with a labor and delivery nurse, asking why I am going into early labor and starting off with "well, you see my daughter has this binkie that she holds..." So on Sunday, the binkie got "lost". And while you didn't nap that day, I don't really blame the binkie absence for the lack of sleep. That night, there was no mention of the binkie and yesterday you asked "Where Annie binkie go?" and that was pretty much it. It was such a non-issue that I am both relieved and a little disappointed. I mean, where's the loyalty here? Thankfully we still have whammy (which you now call mimi, which used to be the name for binkie-how quickly things are replaced) and I don't think either of us are ready for you to ditch that one any time soon.

 

We are making minor headway on the potty, but nothing major to report. You are primarily using it as a bargaining tool to obtain gummy bears at this point. I might be in the market for a professional potty trainer, if anyone knows a guy who knows a guy with that special set of skills.

 

Rain briefly collects in this one spot in the driveway, and it's your favorite. Then you always ask "where water go?" and give me a sideways glance when I say "evaporation and absorption". Sometimes Mom isn't so great at explaining things.

 

You are big on lining up and organizing things these days. Drawers must be shut and doors must be closed. You are also very observant and noticed when I switched my wedding ring and when I was wearing a t-shirt that you felt was Daddy's property.

Bath time with Dad is one of your favorites. He always leaves the room soaked from the splashing games you play.

Buzz Lightyear hands...and a lesson learned by Mom and Dad to always make sure that toys that make noise and are motion activated have an on/off switch.

Brentwood carnival and more fun with Dad. I love watching you two together.

 

The sweetest face ever.

 

Last weekend we were at a local jazz festival and you were dancing and holding court and a lady leaned down to you and said "You're adorable." You looked at me then you looked at her and said, with the most serious of faces, "No! I strong!"

 

Adorable and strong. And brave and smart and kind and funny. Everything I could have ever hoped for and a heap on top of that.

 

I love you, sweet girl.

Mom

 



27 weeks, 3rd Trimester

Dear John,

Can I call you John? That is, after all, your name. It's what we call you at home because I figure it's going to be confusing enough to Annie to have a new baby in the house, much less one that we called Boom for 9 months, only to now refer to it as something that is slightly less exciting. So you are our John. Or as Annie says, Joan.

 

I would like to apologize in advance for the complete shaft you have gotten in the posting department. There are several things going on here. First, when I was pregnant with your sister, I didn't have your sister running around and zapping every ounce of energy and creativity out of me on a daily basis. Don't get me wrong, I love every minute of it, but after an afternoon of playing in rain puddles and "washing" princesses and squirreling pine cones in every orifice of a dead (or about to be dead, thanks to us) tree in our neighbor's yard, blogging just seems to.....not happen. And then there's the fact that we don't have a home computer anymore. Well, we do, but Rick has it all rigged up to the TV and it's doing something very fancy and you can't move it or else all our memories (both human and computer) will be erased and all hell will break loose. So no touchie the computer, which means that I could type up a post on an iPad, but that just sounds like torture. And I don't need more torture.

 

Which brings me to what I suspect might be the main reason. My mother told me if I don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all. Or she might have said for me to call her and tell her all the not nice things, but either way, I am pretty sure I don't want all my cliché pregnancy woes to be documented for all time on the internet. Plus, whiny pregnant ladies are pretty boring and I am well aware that there are MANY out there that would give anything to be where I am, so I shut up and deal. I will say that this pregnancy has been very different than the one with your sister. My body is older, I am more tired, and the fact of the matter is I just can't hang like I used to. So I am sorry, sweet boy, that the whole thing isn't as well documented as Annie's, and you won't likely have a BOOK made out of the posts I wrote about your pregnancy like your Dad did for Super, but know that you were loved every step of the way, even if it's not all over the internet.



 

 

27 weeks+2 days.

 

 

A positive difference to this pregnancy is that I don't feel like such a maniac. I felt in a near constant state of panic when I thought about getting ready for Annie. Now, the room is finished (adjusted colors for Annie's new roommate) and we have sorted clothes for you, we already have all the big ticket items, and it's just a waiting game at this point. And I think I was much more emotional (read: crazy) with your sister. I remember some pretty massive melt-downs over lord knows what (HOW ARE THERE SO MANY KINDS OF PREGNANCY PILLOWS? HOW CAN I EVER DECIDE? I WILL SURELY GIVE BIRTH BEFORE I MAKE UP MY MIND AND WHAT IF I CHOOSE THE WRONG ONE????-true story). Now, don't get me wrong, I am by no means all tranquil and logical over here, but my meltdowns have been over completely sane things like feeling like my body is not my own and how freaking tired I am. Trust that in the grand scheme of things that pregnant women can freak out about, these are pretty standard. Rick might feel differently though. Perhaps he learned from the first time around to just nod, agree, and run for cover instead of engaging the beast. Either way, it seems to be working out.

 

We are officially in the home stretch here. 12 weeks and 5 days left. I have one more monthly doctor's visit before we switch to bi-weekly (or is it bi-monthly? I can't EVER keep those straight-we go every two weeks...back off). There's hospital talk and planning and discussions about where I will nurse you and where we will put the bassinet. There are fuzzy sleepers in a drawer and the boppy has been washed and ready for action. We are getting to the good stuff, and I plan to focus on that from now until I see your face. Can't wait.

 

Love,

Mom

pregnancy brain, 26 weeks+6 days

Mornings are usually a scramble. I try to get as much done as possible before Annie wakes up. Rick usually packs her lunch, I scarf down some food and try to appear as if I have showered in the last 24 hours. Sometimes I have, sometimes I haven't. The fun part is, I look the same (read: scary) regardless. Who can keep track of things like personal hygiene anyway?

 

This morning I decided to take advantage of some of the clothes my sister had passed down to Annie from her girls, since I knew they wouldn't fit next year and I just came across them this past weekend, even though they were in a bin clearly labeled (by yours truly) "ANNIE SPRING 2T CLOTHES, GO THROUGH MARCH 2013"....and then I must have shoved the box deep in the bowels of the basement never to be seen again, until the end of summer.

 

But I checked the weather and figured it was a perfect day for the cute little sleeveless top and flowered shorts. Sure, it was a little chilly when we left this morning, but I had checked by Weather Channel app and it said the high was 87. Annie mentioned a few times she was cold on the way to the car, but I tossed her rain coat in her general direction and assured her it would warm up soon.

 

I kept looking out the window over the course of the day wondering if it just looked like fall outside? Then a co-worker came in and mentioned that it was a bit chilly out there. And I looked at my phone again...

 

 

 

So the high today is 87 degrees.

 

In Atlanta.

 

Sorry, baby girl. Make sure and thank Jen for the sweatshirt. 

In the Words fo Dora The Explorer....

...WE DID IT! "It" being that Annie went to her first day of the school before the school before kindergarten. Pre-pre school? I am not even sure what to call it, which is why there was no cutesy sign for her to hold announcing that today was her first day. That, coupled with the fact that I was too busy running around like a maniac, filling out forms and packing extra outfits should Annie decide she wants to be "that kid" that craps her dress on the first day of school.

 

I, for one, was a bit thankful for the bustling morning. It kept me distracted from the though that my baby was going to a school. Albeit a school before the school. But she would have teachers and classmates and make friends that aren't the friends I force upon her because I am friends with their mom. 

 

 

Annie, however, was as cool as a cucumber. She spent the morning drawing and watching Wreck it Ralph. Standard Thursday morning fare.

 

New dress, old shoes. Because I would NEVER send her off in shoes that had not already been tried and tested on just about every playground in a 3 mile radius. Fun fact: you can't climb up a slide in Toms. Some would argue that you are not supposed to. I am not one of those people.

 

This is about as good as it got for the pre-pre school picture.

 

 

Because it's a big day, and I felt I needed to stuff down my emotions with sugary treats, we stopped for doo-dut (donut) holes. And because I am an Erwin and knew I would arrive obscenely early, the iPad was brought to pacify Annie as we waited for the appropriate arrival time.

 

We spotted sweet Mary Grace on our way in, who walked with annie and showed her how to properly hold her school bag.

 

 

And then we were in the classroom. There was playdoh and hand washing and we hung up our bag and I choked back sobs. There was a boy whose screaming and crying sounded a lot like what was going on inside me, but I held back actual tears. I guess leaving your child in the care of others since they were 8 weeks old has finally started to pay dividends because she hardly noticed my departure.

 

 

She sat right down, found her weapon of choice (rolling pin) and waited for someone to try to take her playdoh. It was just as we had discussed. Everyone knows the first rule of pre pre-school is to establish dominance.

 

So, sweet Annie, once again you showed me how strong you are, though this time without the flexing and baring of teeth. I love you and know you will have a wonderful day. I can't wait to hear all about it over some afternoon doo-duts.