A Trip to the Mall

With winter seemingly upon us, with the exception of those lovely 60 degree days (thanks, global warming!), we have been struggling to come up with activities for Annie. One of her favorite things seems to be playing at the mall.

But not in the mostly enclosed, rubber padded FREE play are with fun colorful structures. Oh no. That would be too easy. She enjoys playing on the metal car ridey rides on the outskirts. The ones that are half broken and sticky and smell like urine. And cost money. 3-4 quarters a pop. And the change machine is usually broken.

The good news is that she seems to finally have realized (and her father has now accepted) that she hates when the rides actually start moving. Her favorite was the big pink bus featured above. In and out. In and out.

Climb in.

And out. There are TWO ways into/out of the bus. Thank the good Lord or one might actually get bored. There is also a window. With a view of the play area.

Ultimately we decide to bail on the bus and head to the book store. We are practicing walking and her holding my hand. As the mall is not crowded I figure this is a perfect time.

I was wrong.

After recovering her after a mad dash at Build a Bear we had our first full-tilt boogie melt down.

On the floor, rolling around wailing.

I was stunned, paralyzed. I recalled every time I had ever seen a mother in this scenario and I had judged them. I had no idea what to do, but I did know I didn't want to get mad. On the outside at least. I always hear that you have to ignore a tantrum.

So that's what I did. I employed the first responder rule that you don't move an accident victim unless their location places them in more danger. And then I started to laugh at how ridiculous we must look.

There she was. On the ground in the middle of the mall, snot and tears flowing. With her maniac Mom standing over her, laughing.

After a short time she got up and we headed to the book store to use the free train table. And look at some books. It's like the library but the books are clean.

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So if you ever see a Mom standing over a wailing child in the middle of the mall, please don't judge her. Smile and nod and maybe give her a hand if she needs it. And give her any spare quarters if you have them.

You are doing it wrong

You always hear people say "kids don't come with a manual". And to this I say:

WHY THE EFF NOT?????

I understand every kid is different and yadayada, but they all go through similar things for the most part. They all have to start eating solid foods, they all have to poop on the potty (unless you are in a third world country), they all have to learn to sleep through the night eventually.

And hey, if your kid isn't a bona fide binkie addict or you live in a country without running water, then skip the chapters on the Binkie Fairy or potty training. Problem solved. If one of you could get on this, I would greatly appreciate it.

Annie is VERY interested in the potty. I originally took this as a sign she was ready to start potty training, so we rushed out and got her a potty that she could mount on her own. We have a special seat on the toilet, but it's high up and cold and usually results in her running her fingers around the interior of the seat. Soooo, since I am not currently in the market for a bout with e coli....kiddie potty it is.

And she was excited about it at first. She would run around saying "Dotty" and "poop" and we would take her diaper off and sit on the Dotty/potty.

And she would get up.

So we would give her a book.

And she would still get up. But her pants would be around her ankles and she would shuffle out of the bathroom and eventually fall, and demand her pants be taken off.

So the pants come off.

And then she realizes that she would really be comfortable without that pesky shirt on and starts pulling and yelling "OFF!" to the shirt. Everyone knows you need to really be free of all clothing to do your business properly. No?

So the shirt comes off.

And back on the Dotty she goes. But now she's so excited because she's naked and it's not even bath time, so she's up and running around the house with two very anxious parents in tow, with towels at the ready for will surely be an epic accident.

Efforts are made to corral back to the Dotty but, hell, that thing is so 74 seconds ago. She wants to roll on the carpet in the buff and crawl in your freshly washed sheets, daring you to remove her as she will surely leak something out in the extraction-inspired tantrum.

And so it goes. And we convince ourselves that it's probably too early for all of this and we should just table the issue for later.

Until she wakes up the next morning screaming for the Dotty again.

So if 25 years from now you see a 26 year old woman stripped nude in a bathroom stall flipping through the latest Baby Night-Night, just remember it's all because her Mom didn't have that manual.

19 months and Change

Dear Annie,

The holidays buzzed by with barely an acknowledgement that you are another month older. How is it possible that you will be TWO in five months? You are becoming such a big girl and it makes my mom heart ache. You were an absolute joy over the holidays and everyone really seemed to enjoy spending time with you. And not just in that "hey, cute kid, now back to the party" kind of way.

You seem to change daily. You know so many words and will repeat just about anything we say to you now. You have become a bit more picky eater, but I think that is directly correlated to the volume of snacking going on. Yesterday you had no snack and were clearly hungry by the time dinner rolled around. Your efforts to climb into your high chair whilst screaming "EAT" and "BITES" were pretty subtle clues to your hunger, but I picked up on it. Needless to say, you scarfed down your meal like it was your job. So maybe we will ease up on the snacking a bit to see how that changes your appetite. I will do my best not to starve you...

Though I don't think starvations is a current concern. At the last doctor's visit, you were 34 inches tall and 28 pounds, which are the 96th and 95th percentiles, respectively. You have a perfect little toddler body, that is now sporting mostly 2T clothing. Your shoe size is around a 6.5, depending on the shoes.

And let's chat about your shoes. I think you have about 8 pairs in the rotation, currently. And you ONLY want to wear the ones that sparkle. Preferrably a sparkly flat. That's my girl. And God help us all when we want to put you in something sensible for winter like a boot. There are proclamations of "all done!" and "no no no" the whole time. I have recently taken to distraction during the shoe selection process. Once they are on, you are usually ok with it.

You love bath time where you and your Dad compromise the integrity of our floors with your splashing. You took swim lessons and were a dream. You have recently started spinning in place, which then leads to some precarious situations. You are still very tough and rarely cry from anything, much less a pesky bump. I will address our only major brush with injury in a separate post.

I see flashes of both your Dad and me in you. Your ability to work an iPhone and navigate our stereo receiver is 100% Dad. Your ability to memorize the words to songs is all me. Your constant motion and energy is all Rick. Your need for quiet time every once in a while is from your Mom.

You didn't have a lot of interest in books in the beginning, but we are all about the books now. It's a relationship that's 50% about removal/stacking from the bookshelves and the other 50% is actually reading them.

The other day I came in to get you from your nap. You still seemed tired and looked at me and said Book! Light!

So I handed you some books and your night light and you "read" to yourself for another 20 minutes or so. The night lights were used as you made it very clear you did not want the overhead lights on.

There is so much I want to remember from this stage. I want to remember how each night you direct me to "chair" and "sit" so you and I can snuggle and read a book. I want to remember the weight of your little self pressing into me, trying to get as close as possible and how if you are cold you tuck your fists under my neck. I want to remember how you put your hands on my shoulder and tap your index finger and how this is how I know when you are getting sleepy. I want to remember how Bunny/Whammy goes EVERYWHERE with us and how you rub the tag on your cheek when you get tired. I want to remember the sound of your voice saying "uppeesh" (up please) no fewer than 1,750 times a day, in your constant efforts to get us where you want us to go. I want to remember how you try to do my hair and the feel of your little hands patting strands into place (I will try to forget yesterday when things got a little aggressive and Dad had to physically pry you off of me and I might need hair plugs as a result). I want to remember how you point to things and say "Dis?" every time you want to know the name of something. I want to remember how you always want down from being held to "walk" but you very very rarely walk anywhere. I want to remember the sound of you "tokyo drifting" around the corners in our house as you race to play "where are you?" (or just "are YOOOOU?") with us. I want to remember that you don't really care much for sweets but would eat pretzels and goldfish 24/7 if we let you. I want to remember the feel of your sticky little hands on the side of my face as we work on being gentle with things. I want to remember how you love your choo-choos as much as your princesses and baby dolls.

I want to remember it all.

I love you, sweet girl,

Mom

Overwhelmed

I keep a mental list of things that are important in a partner to pass on to Annie when she is of dating age, approximately 45 years from now. These are things like having a good personality, thinking you are pretty without makeup, sharing similar religious beliefs, and liking their mother. You know, the important stuff. I am officially adding to the list that they should have at least one aunt (Rick has two)  that is an expert crafter. 

Aunt Janet had been collecting pics of Annie for a while now, but I wasn't sure exactly what she was up to. The gift was delivered on Christmas. The album is the most beautiful collection of pictures I have ever seen. And nothing was left out. She had momentos from all the big events too (christening, first birthday, first Christmas card). Nothing was forgotten. 

She even got Liza and David's wedding, which really put it over the top.

To say I was emotional when I received it would be an understatement. I was crying like a baby. A baby that finally has a baby book for her baby. 

Thank you, Aunt Janet!

Eat, drink, and be merry

I leaned a little harder on the eating over drinking this year. I think I just wanted to really have something to rally against come January 1.  But back to the holidays....

I have to admit that Annie has blown out the walls on my cold black Grinch heart. I was excited to put up the tree and cried a few times when reviewing all the lovely ornaments we received last year for babies first Christmas. We hung stockings and baked and LISTENED TO MONKEY FIGHTING (working on swear words) CHRISTMAS MUSIC. I even turned a blind eye to Rick getting up on a high ladder for exterior light hanging. I guess all of a sudden the risk of him sustaining a devastating injury from a fall is outweighed by my desire for Annie to see her house trimmed in lights. 

We spent time with family, but it never seems to be enough. What used to be late nights enjoying cocktails with my favorite big brother who always travels in from out of town has become measured alcohol consumption (but not food, never measure food!) and barely making it to 9:00 before we have to bail and head home.

This year was special for so many reasons, all of them Annie-centric. She seemed to know there was something special going on. She loved spending time with her beloved cousins and probably tested every ounce of patience all three of them have. And her big cousins and Uncle Dan turned it out this year for her. They noticed Annie's love of all things fort related and built her her very own tee pee! This thing is tricked out with lights and all weather canvas and you should have seen her fast-feet happy dance when she first saw it.

Behold the tee pee! Had it not been zero degrees I think she would have tried to spend the night in there. 

Thank you to these sweet ladies for such a thoughtful gift (Dan especially, though not pictured)!

And the holiday (and non-holiday) tradition of Uncle Happy and Chloe silliness continued. It's fun to see her starting to be able to dish it right back to him. After good manners, this is probably one of the most important personality traits one can have in this family. And our manners are questionable at best. 

All photos from Rick's family Christmas are on a real camera but trust it was equally awesome. I feel so blessed to have such wonderful and generous people surround us over the holidays. Thank you all for helping to make this year so special!

To The Makers of Pepto Bismol

I really think Pepto should come with a free phone app that sends a message, oh, say 36 hours after you take a dose of the stuff. The message would say something like:

YOU TOOK PEPTO BISMOL 36 HOURS AGO. THAT'S WHY YOUR POOP IS BLACK.

NO, YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE.

Save a lot of people a lot of anxiety.

Ohm My Goodness

Living Social had a deal about 5 months ago for a month of unlimited yoga for $30. The spot is right by our house (seriously not even a mile away) and it is normally around $12/visit and supposed to be a really nice facility. I figured this was just the thing I needed to help with my back problems and get me back on the working out train.

Did I mention I had back problems? Oh yes. Back in July there was an ER visit coupled with months of physical therapy and now I am better. Better than I was. Meaning I can stand up straight. Now you are up to speed.

But the yoga deal fell to the wayside during the Great Back Drama of 2012, then there was the wedding, then there was me realizing that EACH YOGA CLASS IS AN HOUR AND A HALF. Trying to slip that into an already tight schedule wasn't the easiest task. But I found one beginner yoga class on Monday nights that would seem to work. And then I completely forgot about it until I got a friendly reminder from Living Social that the deal was about to expire.

If I am being honest here, I think I was scared to re-enter the working out world. Though my brother would argue that yoga is hardly working out....if I am putting on spandex and entering a room with other people in spandex and someone might break a sweat...it's working out. And I hadn't done any sort of "public" working out (other than in front of Rick or limping along the road trying to "run") in, oh, say 2.5 years. And prior to that I was fairly fit, so in my mind this would be a public declaration of just how far I had slid into the pit of flabby out-of-shapedness. No fun.

But I screwed up my courage, donned my spandex and headed out last night. I arrived approximately 45 minutes before the class started thanks to my inability to correctly use the internet. And then I was trapped in a room that was covered in signs about "inner reflection" and "being present", so I felt a little bad about checking facebook and instagram for those 45 mintues. So I sat. And tried to relax. And not think about if my thighs were gonna look huge in child's pose.

Finally we were let into the room and I was thrilled to see that there were no mirrors in there. The room was dark and warm and not crowded. We were instructed to sit and then did breathing exercises for the first 10 minutes.

Have you ever tried to really focus on your breathing? Like someone telling you to breathe with "continuity" and "intention"? As if those are even real things. But yet telling you to relax at the same time? I swear my chest was jerking, my eyes were watering and I almost passed out about six times. I finally had to focus really hard on the back of my eyelids and ditch the breathing business and finally I seemed to "relax". There's a little unsolicited yoga tip from me to you.

The rest of the class was a bit of a blur. There was no clock, no mirror to scope out others in the class and size up who had on the cutest lululemon tights. There were a few tense moments when I was sure I had not waited the appropriate amount of time between eating and yoga-ing, but thankfully nothing slipped. Or at least nothing that I will confess to.

I survived. And I felt wonderful after. I was back in the "work out world". Granted, it was the least threatening atmosphere anyone could ever imagine, but I did it. And I can walk today. I still can't breathe right, but maybe I will get that on track in the next 29 days until my deal expires.

Perhaps this whole yoga thing will jump-start my fitness routine in 2013?

Don't hold your breath.