I admit, I sometimes feel that I was a little young to start a family. Not measured in life-experience mind you, just in years. I FINALLY have friends (that I knew before I had kids) who will now understand why I live off coffee and peanut butter. But I want to also mention that having babies is not an easy job. Or is it always easy to get pregnant.
Sure there are lots of women who have no idea HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?! I'm not one of them. Technically. I mean, I did take Health and Biology, and I had a pretty hippy mom who was REALLY open about sex and such. What I didn't know was that it was all a LIE. Ok, so, high school health taught me that if you have sex several things will happen: mostly that you'll get pregnant, an STD and DIE. Besides those really scary things, I went to a small high school. I wasn't about to have everyone I knew all up in my business.
What I mean about this whole "LIE" that I was taught was that they said it was easy to get pregnant. That's a bunch of BS if I've ever heard it. It is a hell-of-a-lot more complicated than that. Did you know that any given month, if all your ducks are in a row, you've only got about a 20% of getting pregnant? And if you're older, it's less than that, and if you're younger it's about a 25% chance.
This brings me to my pregnancies. Sami was one of those, we had sex ONCE that month and got pregnant, whoops, pregnancies. I'll admit, it was more than a little shocking. Once?! I mean, really?! Fine. I raise my hand and say we weren't doing EVERYTHING we could to protect against getting pregnant, but ONCE?! That's when that whole LIE about how easy it is to get pregnant totally bit me in the butt. On the other hand, getting pregnant with Rebecca took all the faith I had, all the strength I had, and all the luck in the world. I'm not kidding when I say we tried for 8 months to get pregnant. I was at the end of my rope, then all of a sudden, the stars aligned and it happened. I guess like the stars aligned when I got pregnant with Sam. Only this time, I truly understood what it meant to eat, sleep, breath trying to conceive.
I have a few friends who are pregnant right now (oh right, I mentioned that). But I also have a few friends who are NOT pregnant right now. Not because they don't want to be. They desperately do. They desperately want to get pregnant, but not only that, they want to actually hold a baby in their arms and raise it. Many of them have suffered miscarriages. Which, in itself is devastating, but the fact that they've gotten pregnant, only to have it end in heartbreak, makes the desire for a child just that much more urgent. It humbles me that these women are still my friends. I always feel so lucky that they don't hate me for having the one thing they desire most. I'm grateful for all my friends, but for those that don't have babies or who are having trouble getting pregnant, I have a special place in my heart. And I have a 2.5yr old for sale if you're interested. She's almost housebroken and very smart. ;)
Monday, June 6, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
Who makes the rules? Hint: it's NOT me.
Becca is at this stage right now where she doesn't want to be put down. She's totally content to sit on your lap and just hang out, but don't you dare try to set her in the bouncy seat, swing, on the playmat or *gasp* the pack-n-play. Needless to say, it makes it very difficult to get anything done.
It makes it very difficult for me especially because when it's just me around I'm the one who has to hold her. (DUH!) Cuz, you know, it's me, with the boobs. Because she's breastfed (wahoo! go us! *does happy dance*) every time I hold her, she does this thing, like she's an open-mouthed trout. She bobs up and down, opens her little mouth and moves in the direction of the boobs. It makes it especially difficult if I'm trying to rock her to sleep.
Sami took a binky from, like, day one. She sucked on that thing all day, all night, all the time. She loves her binky. Yes, present tense. We are currently trying to get her to give up the addiction, but the binky habit is REALLY hard to break, like crack. Especially when you have an enabler, *ahem* daddy. However, Rebecca will NOT take the binky in most cases. So, in order to soothe Little Miss Picky Pants, it's either give her the boob or let her suffer and cry. It's created quite the dilemma for me. It's not like she's hungry when she's crying like this either. She just doesn't want to be put down.
We spent hours last night trying to get her to just sleep for goodness' sake. I finally resorted to the boob, and nursing her lying down, in my bed. She fell asleep. I scooped her up and tried to put her in the dreaded pack-n-play in our bedroom. She's supposed to sleep there, most of the time she sleeps there for all of half-an-hour, then she's back in our bed; still it's better than nothing. Last night, this plan back-fired. And we were back to square one. Then her daddy comes home.
Daddy is like, The Baby Whisperer. He puts that baby to sleep so quickly it amazes me. Most nights. Last night was no exception. He rocked her for all of .5 seconds, and she was asleep. I warned him though that she wasn't in the mood to be put down. He laughed at me and tried to set her in the swing. Then I hear obsenities. She was NOT in the mood. This continued for like 20 minutes before I gave in, said, "Here I'll take her" and gave her the boob again, in my bed.
It went on like this for a while. I'd "soothe" her by giving her the boob, she'd fall asleep for a while, I'd try to move her, it wouldn't work. Finally, I had given up. I went back to putting her in a tight swaddle and rocking her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I was exhausted. She was exhausted. She gave in and fell asleep, and then stayed there in her pack-n-play. I dropped off to sleep roughly at 10:30pm.
At 11:30, she woke up, and it was surprisingly to actually eat, not just be soothed.. So, we started all over again...Today--I'm tired. So. Very. Tired.
It makes it very difficult for me especially because when it's just me around I'm the one who has to hold her. (DUH!) Cuz, you know, it's me, with the boobs. Because she's breastfed (wahoo! go us! *does happy dance*) every time I hold her, she does this thing, like she's an open-mouthed trout. She bobs up and down, opens her little mouth and moves in the direction of the boobs. It makes it especially difficult if I'm trying to rock her to sleep.
Sami took a binky from, like, day one. She sucked on that thing all day, all night, all the time. She loves her binky. Yes, present tense. We are currently trying to get her to give up the addiction, but the binky habit is REALLY hard to break, like crack. Especially when you have an enabler, *ahem* daddy. However, Rebecca will NOT take the binky in most cases. So, in order to soothe Little Miss Picky Pants, it's either give her the boob or let her suffer and cry. It's created quite the dilemma for me. It's not like she's hungry when she's crying like this either. She just doesn't want to be put down.
We spent hours last night trying to get her to just sleep for goodness' sake. I finally resorted to the boob, and nursing her lying down, in my bed. She fell asleep. I scooped her up and tried to put her in the dreaded pack-n-play in our bedroom. She's supposed to sleep there, most of the time she sleeps there for all of half-an-hour, then she's back in our bed; still it's better than nothing. Last night, this plan back-fired. And we were back to square one. Then her daddy comes home.
Daddy is like, The Baby Whisperer. He puts that baby to sleep so quickly it amazes me. Most nights. Last night was no exception. He rocked her for all of .5 seconds, and she was asleep. I warned him though that she wasn't in the mood to be put down. He laughed at me and tried to set her in the swing. Then I hear obsenities. She was NOT in the mood. This continued for like 20 minutes before I gave in, said, "Here I'll take her" and gave her the boob again, in my bed.
It went on like this for a while. I'd "soothe" her by giving her the boob, she'd fall asleep for a while, I'd try to move her, it wouldn't work. Finally, I had given up. I went back to putting her in a tight swaddle and rocking her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. I was exhausted. She was exhausted. She gave in and fell asleep, and then stayed there in her pack-n-play. I dropped off to sleep roughly at 10:30pm.
At 11:30, she woke up, and it was surprisingly to actually eat, not just be soothed.. So, we started all over again...Today--I'm tired. So. Very. Tired.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Don't Judge A Butt By It's Cover
I hate snap judgements or knee-jerk reactions. Simply because you might have very little knowledge about something, doesn't make it ok to judge people for their choices. This is true for politics, religion and (what I've come to find out) cloth diapering.
I believe in being open minded. Now, before you freak out, there is way more to the story than those little words: CLOTH DIAPERS. I'll admit, when I had Samantha, I was pretty main-stream. I didn't have much of a philosophy on birth-plans or diapers. I knew I wanted to breast-feed, but unfortunately that lasted only a few weeks because of her "failure to thrive" (not gaining weight very steadily). Anyway, I didn't know there were options, and I was ok with that. Truly, I was. Until Sami got a nasty diaper rash. WORST. THING. EVER. I mean, NOTHING cleared it up. No creams, no oatmeal bath, no magic wand could clear up the rash. Sami was my "trial and error" baby. I tried and tried and tried. The only thing that cleared up that stupid rash was a type of cloth diaper. She got it right back when we put her in normal, name-brand, disposable diapers. But because of my reluctance to keep using cloth (everyone I knew was against it), I ended up using more expensive chlorine-free, dye-free, hella-expensive disposable diapers.
When I got pregnant again a friend of mine said that for her babies she would really like to do cloth diapers. I was like most people, "EWWW gross!" or "That must be soooo much work!" but instead of shutting it out completely I decided to do some serious research. Because of my sensitive-skin and my horrid experience with diapering Sami, I thought there HAD to be a solution. I talked to many of my mom friends. They told me it was easy. Then they started throwing out types of diapers they liked. There must be a million different types of cloth diapers. All-In-Ones, All-In-Twos, Flats, Fitteds, Pre-folds, Pockets. I mean really, there is a million types. The amount of information out there was sort of overwhelming, but the more I read, the easier it became to swallow that it was indeed do-able.
I made my first purchase very cautiously $100 for 16 All-In-One, excellent used condition cloth diapers, that I bought from a friend in a mommy group of mine. When I got them, I opened the box and did a little cheer. I really could do this! After that first purchase, I made a few more "necessity" purchases of soap and a wet-bag. For the first month of her life, Rebecca was in disposable. More out of needing to learn her schedule and thinking that these diapers might just be a little too big. Oh, and because I was nervous. What if they leaked? What if they are really not something I could handle? One Monday though, I decided, no more and put her in the cloth. GO ME!
I've never looked back! Instead, I made more cloth investments. I now have a "stash" of about 40 diapers (and I'm DAMN proud of it). Just ONE of my cloth diapers costs about $15, or is equal to 68 disposable diapers (at $.22/diaper). I've bought my diapers all at discounts, but have spent roughly $300 on them. With that in mind: suck up these facts. A child will go through 6000 diaper changes in the first two years of life. Instead of sending 6000 diapers to the trash, to sit in a landfill for the next 500 years, my 40 diapers can go from birth to potty training. Also, at $.22/diaper I'm saving myself $1300 (if I don't invest in any more cloth) over Rebecca's diapering years. YES $1300. Amazing?! I think so. Personally, the choice to use cloth was more about better for baby (no chemicals) and better for my wallet in the long run with the "better for the Earth" argument coming in as a bonus.
Do people judge me? ALL THE TIME. But here is the simple truth: she's my child, it's my money, and I do all the "work". My daycare provider even says, "It's so easy! They are just as easy as disposable! Maybe easier since there's less trash for me!" I love my "fluff" and not only has it been a great experience to learn about them, but it's also been a great lesson: don't judge a butt by it's cover.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Dammit Mom
Somedays, I admit, I feel that life just plain sucks. I think we all feel that way sometimes. No matter what we're going through, we each have struggles that make it hard to get up in the morning. I've had a lot of those days in my life.
Recently (like maybe 3 weeks ago?) my mother's brother, my Uncle Dave, was diagnosed with Maligent Melanoma. Two of the deadliest words in the English language (to me anyway). I felt the whole world was crumbling down on me...again...Since that's the type of cancer my mother died from, I have a deep seeded hatred for it. There's nothing worse than being told you've got cancer.
Currently, my uncle is trying to decide whether he'll seek chemo as a treatment. Unfortunately, he has Stage 3C, and there are no clinical trials of experimental treatments in his area. Chemo would be his only option there. He described it a grueling experience. 4 weeks of IV fed drugs pulsing through his system, then the other 48 weeks of the next year would involve taking an oral form of the medication each day. Wow. That just plain sucks and we both had a good laugh about the fact that he is indeed invincible and that this could really be his kryptonite.
As anyone would be, I think he's afraid that the chemo simply won't work. They have already given him a life-expectancy of about 5 years, and with a full-year of chemo, if he lives that long, they told him that they probably bought him a year. So, what's the trade off? Quality of life, or length? Or what if it does work and he lives to be 75? Only God knows really.
As we were talking, I added that my mother was probably constantly afraid, but she never showed it. NOT EVER. Instead, my mom would take laugh-out-loud books, dvds and comic strips with her to her to her many chemo treatment sessions. She literally would laugh while those horrendous drugs were being dripped into her tiny veins. I remember her telling me that life sucks, chemo sucks, but if we can laugh, it'll make it better. Laughter, is of course, the best medicine.
I took this to heart the other day. I really was feeling down on myself about a bunch of different situations. Feeling like I'm going no-where in my career, feeling like a terrible mother for having to work, feeling like I'm just not good enough to do ANYTHING. Plus, feeling very down about my uncle getting cancer, and feeling that somehow it was my fault. That's a terrible feeling. Life's little dark clouds were hanging over me. Then, out of no-where, I heard my mother say, "You just need to laugh."
I heard her. And I sought out some really funny things. My friend suggested another blog (which by the way is HI-LARIOUS) and a friend's Twitter account which the sole purpose is to say things to her 2 yr old (same age as Samantha--down to the month) but can't because they are totally inappropriate. Just laughing, made me feel better about myself. I've resolved to say that, my mother was right, laughter is indeed the best medicine. Dammit mom, you're right again.
Recently (like maybe 3 weeks ago?) my mother's brother, my Uncle Dave, was diagnosed with Maligent Melanoma. Two of the deadliest words in the English language (to me anyway). I felt the whole world was crumbling down on me...again...Since that's the type of cancer my mother died from, I have a deep seeded hatred for it. There's nothing worse than being told you've got cancer.
Currently, my uncle is trying to decide whether he'll seek chemo as a treatment. Unfortunately, he has Stage 3C, and there are no clinical trials of experimental treatments in his area. Chemo would be his only option there. He described it a grueling experience. 4 weeks of IV fed drugs pulsing through his system, then the other 48 weeks of the next year would involve taking an oral form of the medication each day. Wow. That just plain sucks and we both had a good laugh about the fact that he is indeed invincible and that this could really be his kryptonite.
As anyone would be, I think he's afraid that the chemo simply won't work. They have already given him a life-expectancy of about 5 years, and with a full-year of chemo, if he lives that long, they told him that they probably bought him a year. So, what's the trade off? Quality of life, or length? Or what if it does work and he lives to be 75? Only God knows really.
As we were talking, I added that my mother was probably constantly afraid, but she never showed it. NOT EVER. Instead, my mom would take laugh-out-loud books, dvds and comic strips with her to her to her many chemo treatment sessions. She literally would laugh while those horrendous drugs were being dripped into her tiny veins. I remember her telling me that life sucks, chemo sucks, but if we can laugh, it'll make it better. Laughter, is of course, the best medicine.
I took this to heart the other day. I really was feeling down on myself about a bunch of different situations. Feeling like I'm going no-where in my career, feeling like a terrible mother for having to work, feeling like I'm just not good enough to do ANYTHING. Plus, feeling very down about my uncle getting cancer, and feeling that somehow it was my fault. That's a terrible feeling. Life's little dark clouds were hanging over me. Then, out of no-where, I heard my mother say, "You just need to laugh."
I heard her. And I sought out some really funny things. My friend suggested another blog (which by the way is HI-LARIOUS) and a friend's Twitter account which the sole purpose is to say things to her 2 yr old (same age as Samantha--down to the month) but can't because they are totally inappropriate. Just laughing, made me feel better about myself. I've resolved to say that, my mother was right, laughter is indeed the best medicine. Dammit mom, you're right again.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Welcome back!
I haven't posted in a REALLY long time. Mostly because I'm lazy. Life continues to happen, but it's difficult to get on here and write when I've got about a million other things to do. This is my attempt to be better, since I miss writing. Wish me luck.
So...quick wrap up...
Sami talks, walks, runs, screams, throws tantrums, gives hugs, bargains for what she wants, and is generally smarter than I am. She is two-and-a-half now and we are in full swing of the "terrible twos". It's really not as bad as it probably could be, and I expect three to be much worse. However, I will say that despite all of her "bad behaviors" she is full of light and love. She's a very empathetic and compassionate child.
We added someone to our team this year! Rebecca Kenslyn was born in February, a full month early. She's very different from her sister. Namely, she's chubby and mellow. We like that. She is also looking like she will keep her blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. (Oh, did I mention that Sami's hair is super curly? We have no idea where that comes from). Generally, Becca is a very laid back baby. She doesn't cry much unless she's hungry--then it sounds like her stomach thinks her throat's been cut. Yes, it is that bad.
I feel like I should mention stuff about myself and Greg....um, we're still here? we survive each day? Pretty much. I would say for the most part, not much has changed with us. Maybe that we're a little older...
Greg's 10 year high school reunion is this year. YIKES! He is still playing as much softball as two kids will allow (2 nights a week, and usually 1 big tournament a month). He also got his Electrician Journeyman's License recently. HOORAY!!!!! He also still refs basketball in the winter and we seem to always have a sporting event to attend. Currently, we are planning is 30th birthday (in less than a year and a half) to be a trip to Vegas. Yep, I think that's about all that's new with him.
As for myself...I can't believe it's been almost 4 years since my mother's passing and my graduation from college. I miss my mom greatly, and wish there was so much more that I could've learned from her. College--now that I miss. Spending all my time learning instead of working, yep, sign me back up. Ok, so I love my life now. I just miss the carefree-ness of college. worrying about only myself was so much easier. But hey, it is a beautiful-crazy life I've got going here.
I recently returned to work from maternity leave, which is alright. It is nice to be around adult conversation and not have to change my outfit because I'm soaked head to foot in baby-puke. But it's REALLY hard to leave my babies. I loved being able to just cuddle with them in the morning and I also loved being able to just have my own schedule. Working has made me realize that I also need a creative outlet. SOMEHOW I've got to let out all that's inside me. I don't have much time for painting anymore, or reading anything other than kids books, so I'm going to try to make time to write. (AGAIN, this is my attempt in that). I still work for the bank, but I transferred branches last fall and am closer to home now. Which I love and I'm so thankful for. I work four days a week, and currently have Tuesday's off. I love my coworkers and think it's great that we all get along as well as we do most of the time. Yep, that sums up work.
Ok, I think that's going to do it for today. Sami just woke up.
So...quick wrap up...
Sami talks, walks, runs, screams, throws tantrums, gives hugs, bargains for what she wants, and is generally smarter than I am. She is two-and-a-half now and we are in full swing of the "terrible twos". It's really not as bad as it probably could be, and I expect three to be much worse. However, I will say that despite all of her "bad behaviors" she is full of light and love. She's a very empathetic and compassionate child.
We added someone to our team this year! Rebecca Kenslyn was born in February, a full month early. She's very different from her sister. Namely, she's chubby and mellow. We like that. She is also looking like she will keep her blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair. (Oh, did I mention that Sami's hair is super curly? We have no idea where that comes from). Generally, Becca is a very laid back baby. She doesn't cry much unless she's hungry--then it sounds like her stomach thinks her throat's been cut. Yes, it is that bad.
I feel like I should mention stuff about myself and Greg....um, we're still here? we survive each day? Pretty much. I would say for the most part, not much has changed with us. Maybe that we're a little older...
Greg's 10 year high school reunion is this year. YIKES! He is still playing as much softball as two kids will allow (2 nights a week, and usually 1 big tournament a month). He also got his Electrician Journeyman's License recently. HOORAY!!!!! He also still refs basketball in the winter and we seem to always have a sporting event to attend. Currently, we are planning is 30th birthday (in less than a year and a half) to be a trip to Vegas. Yep, I think that's about all that's new with him.
As for myself...I can't believe it's been almost 4 years since my mother's passing and my graduation from college. I miss my mom greatly, and wish there was so much more that I could've learned from her. College--now that I miss. Spending all my time learning instead of working, yep, sign me back up. Ok, so I love my life now. I just miss the carefree-ness of college. worrying about only myself was so much easier. But hey, it is a beautiful-crazy life I've got going here.
I recently returned to work from maternity leave, which is alright. It is nice to be around adult conversation and not have to change my outfit because I'm soaked head to foot in baby-puke. But it's REALLY hard to leave my babies. I loved being able to just cuddle with them in the morning and I also loved being able to just have my own schedule. Working has made me realize that I also need a creative outlet. SOMEHOW I've got to let out all that's inside me. I don't have much time for painting anymore, or reading anything other than kids books, so I'm going to try to make time to write. (AGAIN, this is my attempt in that). I still work for the bank, but I transferred branches last fall and am closer to home now. Which I love and I'm so thankful for. I work four days a week, and currently have Tuesday's off. I love my coworkers and think it's great that we all get along as well as we do most of the time. Yep, that sums up work.
Ok, I think that's going to do it for today. Sami just woke up.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
a little nostalgia this week...
I work at Alpine Bank in Basalt, CO. This town is sort of like a second home-town for me since I grew up in Carbondale, (just a few miles northwest of Basalt) but went to high school at Basalt High (go Longhorns!). This week is homecoming week for the Longhorns, and since I teach Art History on Tuesday nights I got to venture up to my old stomping grounds and hang out at the school for a few hours while we discussed Greek art. (Funny enough: their homecoming "theme" is Grease!...hahahahahaha...ok, so it made me laugh.) Anyway, while there I noticed there were no decorations, no schedule of events, nothing. I mean, nothing! You couldn't even tell this week was "special". I was shocked.
I mean, as an Alumnus, I didn't really expect to get an invitation home for homecoming, however, after thinking about just this, I felt really sad that the tradition of homecoming has pretty much been lost at my high school. I graduated in 2003, it wasn't that long ago. But when I was in high school we had huge signs in the front entranceway to show what the schedule of events was for the week; and that was posted at least a week in advance. We had an event every night; whether it was Brutte Volleyball, Powder Puff Football, Talent Show, Bonfire, etc. Literally, we had something every night. And each day was filled with theme dress-up days: Cowboy/Cowgirl, Pajama, Twin, "Theme" day (whatever that year's theme was) and Spirit days were usually our most popular. I remember having a whole slew of people come out for the parade Friday afternoon, and then joining us for the volleyball and football games that evening. I remember our Alumni getting recognized for being goold ol' BHS alums at the game. Maybe I'm just crazy but isn't homecoming about community and sense of belonging somewhere?
On the flipside of this, this week is also homecoming for Colorado State. Sami and I will be attending the game Saturday afternoon, proudly wearing green and gold. I have known about CSU's homecoming since May when I got an invitation to attend the 4th Annual Associated Students of CSU Alumni reunion.
Now, as backwards as Basalt is with no announcment of homecoming at all, CSU is all about it. (Gotta bring back those donors!) But really, I feel like my alma mater of BHS should try to involve the alums and the community. I think if they did that, we might be more apt to donate to good causes. Plus, the kids do better in school and sports, if the community is behind them.
So, this week, I ask you, where do you come home to?
I mean, as an Alumnus, I didn't really expect to get an invitation home for homecoming, however, after thinking about just this, I felt really sad that the tradition of homecoming has pretty much been lost at my high school. I graduated in 2003, it wasn't that long ago. But when I was in high school we had huge signs in the front entranceway to show what the schedule of events was for the week; and that was posted at least a week in advance. We had an event every night; whether it was Brutte Volleyball, Powder Puff Football, Talent Show, Bonfire, etc. Literally, we had something every night. And each day was filled with theme dress-up days: Cowboy/Cowgirl, Pajama, Twin, "Theme" day (whatever that year's theme was) and Spirit days were usually our most popular. I remember having a whole slew of people come out for the parade Friday afternoon, and then joining us for the volleyball and football games that evening. I remember our Alumni getting recognized for being goold ol' BHS alums at the game. Maybe I'm just crazy but isn't homecoming about community and sense of belonging somewhere?
On the flipside of this, this week is also homecoming for Colorado State. Sami and I will be attending the game Saturday afternoon, proudly wearing green and gold. I have known about CSU's homecoming since May when I got an invitation to attend the 4th Annual Associated Students of CSU Alumni reunion.
Now, as backwards as Basalt is with no announcment of homecoming at all, CSU is all about it. (Gotta bring back those donors!) But really, I feel like my alma mater of BHS should try to involve the alums and the community. I think if they did that, we might be more apt to donate to good causes. Plus, the kids do better in school and sports, if the community is behind them.
So, this week, I ask you, where do you come home to?
Thursday, October 1, 2009
...and Samantha can walk!!!!
So, over the past few months Sami has been doing her darnedest to cruise the furniture- let go and grab onto something else. She's gotten pretty good at making her way across the living room (although it's a pretty small room) several times creating a loop for herself. She has been able to pull up since about 7 months; about the same time she started to do the fast crawl, (she really started crawling around 6 months-ish).... For the past couple weeks we've really been working on balance and standing by herself for a couple seconds. She accomplished this task very well by being able to stand up for a few seconds by herself before she decided she didn't know what she was doing and she'd latch on to some one or something, or laughing and falling on her butt...Over the weekend Greg decided to start standing her up and letting her balance and seeing if she could take steps...She did it only once this past weekend, but her problem is that she's so proud of herself she starts to giggle and can't focus so she falls!
Tuesday, when I took Samantha to her daycare, Nicole (our wonderful daycare lady), asked me if she had been taking steps at home...I paused and said that yes, we had tried over the weekend to get her to do it and explained that she had taken a couple steps but that she got so excited she laughed and fell over. (This also meant to me that she had started taking steps with Nicole, both heartbreaking and fantastic for me all at the same time...I get that feeling a lot because we have to take her to daycare). Over the past couple days Sami has advanced to being able to balance, relax and take a couple steps! Without giggling too much and falling over! Of course, there is some giggling because she is just too proud of herself to contain her excitement (which is totally fantastic!).
And so Samantha walks!
Which, as you can imagine, has a whole new set of "Oh My God, what am I going to do with this?!" feelings attached to it. I'm so excited for her to be a "toddler" and the new things ahead, however, I'm suffering from the not-so-baby blues. And the closer her 1st birthday gets, the more I have those feelings. Which is normal from everything I've read. However, I'd like to scream at the top of my lungs "STOP GROWING UP!!!". Which reminds me of all the times any number of relatives decided to say the same thing to me, and then I feel really like a parent (some of the time I feel like saying "who is this child and why doesn't her mother come pick her up?!"...but only some of the time...).
So, as totally thrilling and amazing as it is, I now have a walking child. Oh shit.
Tuesday, when I took Samantha to her daycare, Nicole (our wonderful daycare lady), asked me if she had been taking steps at home...I paused and said that yes, we had tried over the weekend to get her to do it and explained that she had taken a couple steps but that she got so excited she laughed and fell over. (This also meant to me that she had started taking steps with Nicole, both heartbreaking and fantastic for me all at the same time...I get that feeling a lot because we have to take her to daycare). Over the past couple days Sami has advanced to being able to balance, relax and take a couple steps! Without giggling too much and falling over! Of course, there is some giggling because she is just too proud of herself to contain her excitement (which is totally fantastic!).
And so Samantha walks!
Which, as you can imagine, has a whole new set of "Oh My God, what am I going to do with this?!" feelings attached to it. I'm so excited for her to be a "toddler" and the new things ahead, however, I'm suffering from the not-so-baby blues. And the closer her 1st birthday gets, the more I have those feelings. Which is normal from everything I've read. However, I'd like to scream at the top of my lungs "STOP GROWING UP!!!". Which reminds me of all the times any number of relatives decided to say the same thing to me, and then I feel really like a parent (some of the time I feel like saying "who is this child and why doesn't her mother come pick her up?!"...but only some of the time...).
So, as totally thrilling and amazing as it is, I now have a walking child. Oh shit.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)