Becoming a Mother Afterall

For a while now, Ainsley has said, "Mama" and whispers "Dada". There was a time she said them for no reason. She even went through a phase where she said "Mama" to her bottle. But for the past month or so, she knows who Mama and Dada are and she calls for us specifically without any hesitation. So . . . technically, those were her first words.

But this morning, after a few mornings that I was almost sure she was going to say it, she said her first real word, in a whisper, as if she was shocked it came out of her mouth, and then she looked and me and grinned, repeating it louder the second time.

Because it's Friday and I am bored, I am going to copy Cat's game and see if anyone can guess what the word was. (Hint: She said it to/about something in her crib.)

This Smiles-by-Wire thing is pretty nifty. I would have ordered it before when we got her pictures done, but I didn't even know it existed.

(*Pictures removed.) These were taken last weekend for her 9-month pictures. It was really hard to get her to stay in place, so of course we have a lot of funny ones of her crawling. I looked at the guy and said, "Could you please give her something?" He threw a teddy bear out there and she picked it up and looked at it like, "What the hell is this thing??" The flowers were more interesting and had more to study . . very intensely, apparently.

All is going okay here. I promise I will try to post something with a little more "meat" soon. Look for upcoming posts on our latest discussion on baby #2** (no, not pregnant, but starting to 'think' about the next one) and how our educational system is failing my students. Oh yeah, and one on my extended dysfunctional family drama. It just might make you feel like your own is . . . not so crazy.

**Might I add that I am being really positive about actually having another baby. There is a huge part of me that worries I may never have another because I will miscarry again and again, like before. So, all this talk is the optimist in me, I guess.

Dear Ainsley,

You are 9 months old today, sweetie. As soon as your Daddy rolled over this morning, he whispered birthday wishes in the general direction of your room. As soon as he finished, as if you could hear him all the way down the hallway, you sat up in your crib and said, "Dada?" When you say "Dada", you always whisper it, like it is your secret that you love him so much. When you say, "Mama", you scream it. (smile)



At 9 months, you are definitely testing the waters already! You began crawling the Saturday after Thanksgiving and since then, you have been cruising the furniture around the house. Yesterday I actually found you pulling yourself up on a bra I had drying from the laundry room doorknob. Silly Mommy. I even gave your playgym to your daycare today because you pulled yourself up on it last night and then not-so-gracefully toppled over and bumped your head on the wall. Everyone here has bets on when you will take your first independent steps. I am betting you will give your Daddy and I a Valentine's Day present and do it around then.



On the way home from daycare yesterday, I heard slapping noises coming from the backseat and I thought you were hitting yourself in the head. At the next red light, I turned around and saw the sweetest sight: you have learned how to play pattycake. Now you clap when you are happy, you clap to get our attention, and you clap at the dog, who loves you in her own special way, I am sure.



On Wednesday we went up to your Daddy's school so he could show you off to all his coworkers and his students. They all thought you were amazingly beautiful and each one commented on how much you looked like your Daddy. He was beaming ear to ear. That night you pulled the blanket off the couch and held it up to your face, pulling it down a few seconds later, yelling, "Aghhh!" It took your parents a few minutes to realize you were playing Peek-a-boo! We asked your teachers and they said they had been teaching the children in your room that. Now you play peek-a-boo with a shirt on the floor or anything else that even remotely covers your face. This morning you even picked up an extra baby wipe off the floor and played peek-a-boo with that. It is one of the cutest things I have seen you do thus far.

Your favorite toys right now include the remote control (minus the batteries) and your plastic blocks Mommy got you when you were little. You still love your Elephant book that makes noises the most. You love being naked and having your hair washed, but you hate getting dressed, having your nose wiped, and the vacuum cleaner. You won't tolerate your swing anymore and your exersaucer, which you used to love so much, now frustrates you because you can't get out of it to cruise around. When you are angry, you hit your legs or slap hands away. When you are happy, you giggle loudly, belt out happy screams, and spit a lot.



While I knew when you were born how much I loved you, it still overwhelms me some to actually realize what you mean to your father and I. Whether I am blowing raspberries on your belly, combing your hair, or trying to get you to cuddle with me, I love the way you make me feel when I am with you. Like I am looking in on a smaller version of myself. You are the most beautiful, amazing child and I could not be more blessed than I am right now.

Happy birthday, sweetie.
Love, Mommy

Dear Ainsley,

Please sit down in your crib. You are scaring Mommy. Yesterday you pulled yourself up on the humidifier and then held on with one hand while you cruised the outside of your crib.

Oh, and this not-eating thing? What is THAT about? You have been a little piglet since the moment I saw you, so why is it now you have no desire to eat? Is it the teeth? Don't you understand that if you don't eat now then you wake up your Mommy and Daddy at various times of the night to eat and it is not that we don't love you, but you would have slept better (and us) if you had taken care of this earlier. I know, mean Mommy. I love you, honey. But dear Lord, I am a walking sleepless zombie.

Love,
Mommy

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Dear Target,

Our relationship is officially over. It was so, so good. You gave me exactly what I needed and sometimes you even cut me a really good deal. Tonight, however, I met up with your evil side. Did Christmas make you nasty and unwilling to work with your customers? I came in to return three photo shelves. No, I didn't have my receipt, but all I was asking was to exchange them for smaller ones. But your policy is that you won't let me get anything that costs LESS than what I PAID, only something more expensive or equivalent. WTF? I didn't even want my change! You would have MADE money off of me? When I looked, there were NO CHEAPER SHELVES! And your manager, Mr. A.K.A Bad-Haircut, actually threatened to remove me from the store!!! Why? I didn't even raise my voice!!! Was it because he was suddenly faced with a voice of reason? P.S. Your bathrooms are disgusting.

Sincerely,
X-Customer

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Dear Mr. Science-Guy,

Is it worse to have pesticide sprayed inside my house or to have scorpions running around? Because I have killed two scorpions inside my house, feet from my daughter who puts everything in her mouth, since we moved in. Which is the lesser of two evils?

Sincerely,
Totally-Wigged-Out-Mommy-Turned-Bug-Killer

Oh dear Lord I am tired.

My 12-hour a night sleeper is still sleeping 12 hours, but wakes up every few hours to scream and tell me in baby language how much it sucks that her teeth are coming in, that she can now get up on her knees in the crib and see the floor (and much worse, the door, which is closed and Mommy and Daddy aren't coming in it, so she screams more) and she screams just to scream.

Yesterday there was one tooth in the morning. At bedtime there was two. Who knew a tooth could move that fast??

We are officially on vacation, my husband until January 2nd and me until January 16th. Why is it that I am always more tired on vacation than when I am working? Is my daughter going to sleep again regularly anytime soon or should I get back to napping at the same time as her because that is all I am going to get?

Final question for my dear friends . . . her "teacher" suggested I bring her in a few times while on vacation because she wants her to stay in the daycare routine, etc. Plus she really loves being able to play with the other kids. Most of the kids are on vacation, so in her room it would just be her and the two boys she loves. But I feel guilty even considering this!! Would it be wrong of me to take her next week for two days for a few hours?

I am in a funk and that really sucks since it is Christmas time and I should be happy and excited and . . . merry. Below I have composed a list which I will entitle, "All Things That Make Me Scroogish and Un-Merry When I Should Be Otherwise".

1. My husband is sick. Again. And he is never sick. And when he is sick, he turns into this whiney version of Bart Simpson and I really just want to choke him because he wants help, but then doesn't accept it, but then wants Harry and David soup, but then says that it made him sick, but then he wants chicken, but then he doesn't eat it.

2. Ainsley's vocabulary has changed and I am starting to feel a little jealous of Mr. Bottle. She was saying very specifically, "Mama!" and "Dada!" to us. And "Ppppppp" for our dog, whom we tenderly refer to as a puppy even though she is older than God. She also said "bababa" for her bottle. When she has her bottle, she lovingly twirls it around and moans softly to it and then teases it a little and then shoves it in her mouth and pulls it out, stares at it, and laughs at it like it is her friend. Now? Now she screams, "MAMAMAMAMA!" at her bottle. "Bababa" is no longer apparent and of course "Dada" is still sticking around. Me? I am just that lady who wipes her butt.

3. There has been a change in administration at my school this year and to make a long story short, I am having difficulties adjusting to a new personality at my school. And I think she is out to get me. She has so far caught me on a multitude of things that she says I am doing incorrectly and today I balled my eyes out for half an hour because her comments make me second-guess myself and I shouldn't have to do that. My kid's test scores show so much growth. Apparently she thinks that is just a fluke. How is it that in one day I have two parents tell me that I have been the changing factor in their child's education and how they appreciate my hard work, but then she tells me that I don't engage my children during a lesson. WTF? I had perfect evaluations two weeks ago from the other administrator. And now half the school is ready to leave because she is hounding them about these miniscule, tiny things.

4. Ainsley is teething up a storm and is super-cranky. One tooth has broken through and the second is right there behind it. I am exhausted from not getting enough sleep because she wakes up crying a few times here and there, which in turn wakes me up.

5. I can't remember #5.

6. I need new brakes on the 4 Runner and I am stretched too thin because of Christmas.

7. MY Dad came and installed gates on our stairs for the baby, but he had to rig them a certain way because our stairs don't accomodate the gates well. Now I am worried she is going to go flying down the stairs. She pulled herself up last night on the bannister and then screamed because she couldn't figure out how to get down.

I am worn out . . .

I am having a hard time accepting that Ainsley is not my tiny little baby anymore.

Today, I had a thirty minute long conversation with the director of the infant rooms at her daycare. As I mentioned in the last post, Ainsley is transitioning to the next baby room, which basically includes the few children that are mobile (crawling/scooting) to beginning walkers. It is in this room that the child's meals are included in the cost of her care. The director wants to start Ainsley on their food. Me? Um, not so much.

It is not that the meals are not nutritious are appealing. I just am really freaked out about her choking. Is that weird? For some reason, I couldn't get that across to her without just saying it and I didn't just want to say it and make her think that I didn't trust them because I do. I have started some finger foods with her, like the little puffs that dissolve in their mouths. She is not that great about feeding herself yet, so I just think there shouldn't be a rush. Anyway, I won the food battle and she is going to remain on her baby food I provide until she is back in January. (She will be on vacation with us from December 15 - January 14.)

Ainsley's first tooth broke through (FINALLY) last night, too. She wailed during the entire get-ready-for-bed process. She hates oragel. Sleep and a little tylenol seems to be the only way she feels better. And her new ability to crawl has left her with massively swollen, red knees. I tried putting a little vaseline on them because they are so cracked, but she won't let me touch them. Any suggestions? Guess she has her Mom's sensitive skin.

Tonight I went to a resale shop around the corner to find some jeans for her. I am hoping if she wears jeans her knees won't get so much friction from the carpet. And thankfully, I have found a new way to afford my Gymboree clothing obsession. I found 6 pairs of Gymboree and Old Navy jeans, along with two Gymboree sweaters and a Baby Gap sweater. My grand total: $17.00. Loving.It.

I'm off to bed . . . .

Oh my, how quickly things change.

My daughter, after recovering from whatever the hell was bugging her belly for way too many freakin' days, is officially all over the place. The days of laying her down on the floor in one place to play are officially gone. I used to be able to bring her into my bedroom in the mornings and I could get ready while she played on the floor with her toys. Now? She chases the dog down the hallway, screaming at the top of her lungs because our dog thinks she is some evil mini-me and wants nothing to do with her. Did I mention that we don't have gates yet?

This morning (after a particularly tiresome chase-the baby epidsode in which she basically tried to put the dog's tail in her mouth) I decided all of this physical exertion has got to be getting me somewhere. Apparently I was right about something because folks, I officially fit back into three pairs of my old pants. And they are not even my fat pants. Can I get a hell yeah??

Anyway, other than that, life is the same. I am looking forward to Christmas break. I am off from December 15th through January 15th. Ainsley is transitioning to the next baby room at daycare now that she is mobile. The defensive Mom in me wanted to argue with the director because I secretly want her to stay with her two current teachers, but when I picked her up today, I can see how difficult it can be with one who crawls and a 12-week old who is just sitting there, minding her own business, when some wild, crazy baby wanders over to take away her toy and then bat at her forehead like it is a ball. Um, yeah, I don't know what baby did that.

On the blog front, I think something is in the water, too, because holy cow! Suddenly like half my blog roll is pregnant! That is precisely why I am going to drink juice for a while . . . .

Dear Ainsley,

You are 6 months old today, pumpkin! Six months ago today, right about now, I had dried my eyes for the upteenth time that day and the doctor called me on his phone from another surgery to talk to me about the possibility about having a c-section with you. To be honest, I was tired of having all of those nurses and people poke me and check me and I wanted so badly to see your face. I was disappointed, but it didn't matter, sweetie. A little after 9 pm, I got the best gift of all when I got to see your beautiful face and cover you with kisses.

These six months have gone fast. You have changed so much just in the past few weeks, it is unbelievable. You started daycare a few weeks ago. I cried all the way to work that morning. (Well, and on some subsequent mornings. Okay, so I still cry.) But you love your teachers Ms. Nina and Ms. Kristi. They have a lot of experience with little girls, as they have many of their own. At daycare, you painted your first picture yesterday. It is a masterpiece and I am already convinced you are going to be the next Van Gogh. As soon as they take it down from the hallway, I am framing it and putting it in the house for everyone to see.

These days you love to play with your toys. Your favorites are stackable rings and any kind of ball, as long as it rolls and you can stick it in your mouth. You are still in love with the dog, Chloe, and when we say, "Where's the puppy?" you look for her. In your exersaucer, you bop up and down to the music and follow the dog around the house and scream at her in hopes that she will come and lick your face. One of these days you will get a hold of her tongue and she is never going to speak to you again. You also like to look up at Daddy on the second floor and have recently started holding your arms out to us.


Crawling has become your new goal, but at the expense of your cheeks and knees, which are red and rough from all the face-diving and scrunching along. You have recently begun holding your bottles and yesterday morning, you threw it across the room and then attempted to go and get it, screaming, "babababababababa!" Was it bottle? Who knows. Then you angrily looked at me and screamed, "mummmmmmmummmmmm". Was it Mom? I think you know. Dad thinks it is a coincedence. He immediately picked you up and said, "Say Daddy! Say Daddy!"

I have said it before and I will say it again. Your Dad and I's lives have been enriched by you. You are such a happy, sweet soul who makes me a better person. I curse the red lights I hit when I am going to pick you up everyday and I can never seem to get there quick enough. Seeing you light up when you wake up in the morning is the best thing. And lately, our nights together of gentle rocking, celtic music, and whispering sweet nothings in your ears are moments I would not trade for the world.

You are my angel. It felt like it took forever to get you here and now that you are, I cherish every.single.moment. There is a line in a movie called "City of Angels" where an angel relinquishes his eternal life to be with the woman he loves. For me, I hear the line that is said in that movie over and over, and I have told you it before, through my tears when I am overwhelmed with how much I love you. "I would give it all up for you", sweet Ainsley.

I look forward to seeing how much more of a little lady you become in these next few years. I love you so much!
Love, Mommy

Um.

Ainsley has slept for 12 hours each night for the past 3 nights. She is snoozing by 7 pm and wakes up around 6:45.

Can someone tell me what the hell I am doing right to make this happen? Please? So she KEEPS doing it because I LOVE BEING WELL-RESTED. What a nice change from 8 weeks of morning sickness, then horrifying sciatica, then shoulder and back pain, then baby-pressing-on-the-bladder for the last 12 weeks of pregnancy, then no sleep from the amazing-super-eating-baby shortly after birth, then the not sleeping because you think she has stopped breathing . . . . (well, that sort of still rears its ugly head and I have to check on her periodically in the middle of the night . . )

PS. Competition is not over. Keep placing your bets. I just had to brag about the wonder-sleeper. (because, you know, things change here quickly. Tonight she will probably be up for some grubbin' around 1 am. )