Happy Birthday To You: Everley Edition: 8 Months Old

Dear Everley,



A month ago you turned eight months old. So here's how it's going to be from now on. I will always be one full month late getting your birthday posts written and I will always be one hour late for absolutely everything else in my life. Let's accept it, deal with it, move on.

Let's see. The weeks between seven and eight months were packed with a lot of firsts. Here's a run down:

1. First teeth! OMG cutest little teeth ever. The two on the bottom. They came in together on the same day and took about a week to really poke through. So far, no more to speak of but I'm totally fine with that because those little razors hurt and you're a biter. 

2. Sitting up on your own! Yay! You really hate being confined to any sort of baby-wrangling contraption (except the Jolly Jumper and the stroller both of which you still love) so the fact that you can now sit up unassisted is helpful because I can plunk you down where ever and you're happy because you don't have to lie still. Not that you ever lie still. Ever.

Sitting!

Sitting skills also makes bath time easier and more fun. Splashing is also a fav pastime.

3. "Crawling" everywhere. EVERYWHERE. I call it crawling but it's not really, it's more of an army-style, military drag using your left arm to pull yourself and your right big toe to push yourself. Arm, toe, arm, toe. It's as adorable as it sounds and surprisingly efficient.

You need to work on not getting stuck under ALL THE FURNITURE. But I'm sure that's coming soon.

4. Obsession: magazines! You can't get enough. You will bee line all the way across the room, though a virtual obstacle course of baby toys, just to get to my stack of magazines. You know I don't want you to have them, but you can't resist them. I understand, I have a magazine addiction myself. But I do think you need to stop eating them.

5. First swing! So fun. Your big sis hated the swings until she was... well, until about six months ago. She refused to swing! This made visits to the park almost unbearable because really? What's a parent supposed to do at the park if not push the swing? Stand there and watch the kids go up and down the same stupid slide for three hours? Kill me. Swinging is where it's at and thankfully you love it. Small mercies.

First swing!

Aside from all of these milestoney-type things, which are fascinating and exciting for me but probably a full-on snore fest for anyone else, we just had a really fun time this month. You've hit optimal baby age, in my opinion. You're funny, you're entertaining, you've got personality for days. It's a very good thing because you and I spend A LOT of time together. A LOT OF TIME ALL THE TIME SO MUCH TIME 24/7 ALWAYS. You're my little shadow and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Oh I got tricks in store."

Can't wait to see what tricks and treats are in store for us next (LOL that's funny because I already know! Because this post is a month late! I bet the suspense is killing you! Or not, whatevs, see you in a month).

"But wait! What happens next month? WHAT HAPPENS NEXT MONTH??!!"

I love you!

Mommy 

Happy Birthday to You: Everley Edition: 5 Months Old

Author's Note: OMG I'm so behind on posting and I'm feeling so guilty about it, especially about not having posted about my big girl turning five years old - which happened. She turned five years old. Five. Years. Old. And I will be posting about that soon, even if it's mostly pictures because for some reason I can't seem to find the time to sit here and actually write. And that reason quite frankly is you, my little Everley. That reason is you.

Dear Everley,

Eating everything all the time.

 On February 21 you turned five months old. And just as a fair warning to anyone who might take issue, this will be a post whereby I compare my fresh little newbornish baby to the stinky, snorty late family dog. Because particularly after your fourth month I'm convinced that you are at least partially Moet reincarnated. Here are five reasons why:

1. How You React When You are Excited
It's very easy to get you excited. Basically all one needs to do is a) walk into the same room as you, b) look at you, c) speak. When any one of these three things occur you get very wiggly, you exhibit excessive panting and your eyes light up like firecrackers on Victoria Day. It's pretty much the exact same reaction that Moet had due to the exact same stimuli. If you had a little curly tail, I'm pretty sure it would be wagging right now.

SUPER EXCITED FACE!

2. Your Eyebrows
If you knew Moet, or you know pugs, you'll know that they have these cute little dots for eyebrows, hovering excitedly just over those big brown eyes. Moet was always very expressive with his dot-brows, if he anticipated something he'd sit, frozen, not moving a muscle, and just raise one little dot, or furrow the two together just slightly. These tiny movements spoke volumes and always made me laugh. You do the same thing. Exactly the same thing with your eyebrows (which are growing in very nicely this month, btw). 

See those little brows just peeking up over the card? They are saying, feed me soon or I'll start scratching on stuff.

3. The Scratching
Lordy, my Lord the scratching! This is what clued me in to the fact that you are part Moet. One of Moet's most hilarious (and infuriating) habits was to scratch on walls, doors or floors when he wanted something. He used it as a threat, one paw hovering near a surface while he stared you down for a moment and raised an eyebrow,  "You gonna move, lady? 'Cause I'm about to scratch the shit out of this wall if you don't get your ass up and feed me." This ruined a lot of walls and caused a lot of laughs. You do the same thing. You scratch the wall while on your change table, the sheets in your crib, my chest while you are nursing. Scratch, scratch, scratch, little deliberate movements that say, "Pay attention to me, please, or I will claw you up until you do."

4. Your Appetite
Just like Moet was, you are insatiable. You love to eat. You would eat all day long if I let you. This month we are still exclusively on breast milk but solids are in your very near future because I can't keep up with you anymore. I can't wait to introduce you to the world of food and I know you are going to love it. Just promise me you will always stay away from the wild mushrooms. 

5. General Disposition, Attitude and Unconditional Lovemuffinness
You are my ever loyal companion. You are such a joy. All you want from anyone is a smile and a pat. You love to be scratched and tickled. You are happiest when I'm sitting with you, singing or chatting or cuddling. This month we had our first family vacation with you in tow and you are an excellent travel companion. Easy going, adaptable and curious, you just wanted to be held and fed (see above: Your Appetite). Moet didn't get the chance to travel much, but he loved the car and would settle in and relax whenever we hit the road.

Maxin' and relaxin' in Playa.

 I'm sad that you will not get to meet him, but feel blessed that you are just a little bit like him.

Being just a little bit Moet-like with the eating and the eyebrows.

I love you,

Mommy

Don't Worry, Be Happy

Today has been... Difficult. Early this morning my big girl padded into my room complaining of a sore tummy. I pulled her into bed to snuggle and hoped it was just an attempt at getting into the room that we now share with her little sister. Not so. She couldn't settle down and was increasingly agitated finally asking to go back to her room. I took her to her bed and went to get glass of water for her and that's when the barfing started.

My poor lady. She's never had a stomach bug if you can believe it. In fact, aside from the 6 months of turbo spit up she had as a baby, she's only puked a handful of times, due to coughing or a secondary infection. She was so scared! My heart completely broke for her - but I have to admit my main concern was for Everley.

OMG. What if the baby gets it? What if I get it and have to care for the baby? This is not a situation I can handle well. My anxiety levels, fueled by postpartum hormones, are through the roof over it.

Bella barfed all night and morning and stopped sometime around noon. She feels awful and I'm so sad for her. So far the rest of us are okay I think. But I feel like a ticking time bomb and nights are the worst if I'm dealing with anxiety. In daylight I cope because I can be up with my kids, watching, ever watching for signs of distress. Nights are harder with Cairn fast asleep, Bella in another room and me up alone with the baby.

I think I only slept an hour or so last night, and I just caught another hour from 7 - 8pm. Settling in now for a long night. The first that will probably be really hard, but certainly not the last. I've had minimal anxiety this time around and have been feeling really great overall. This day has set me back a bit, but I intend to fight back, breathe deeply, keep calm carry on.

What lightens the mood better than a good dose of baby hiccups? Nothing, that's what! Enjoy:

Lullaby

I think there is no more fitting example of what life is like as a working parent than the fact that it has taken me three full years to produce and publish the movie you'll see below.

I started it just after Bella's first birthday and I set what I thought at the time was a ridiculously generous goal for myself; to have it completed by the time she turned two. I thought it would be a nice, sweet gift to her (and me) and we could snuggle up together and watch it and marvel at just how much she, we, had grown and changed in just one year.

On Monday my baby, the one that you'll watch transform from tiny blob to pretty babe in the movie below, is going to turn four years old.

Four.

I've always said that at four I would stop taking her 'white chair' birthday photos that I took once per month for her first two years and then every six months after that. When I made the decision that four years would be long enough I honestly believed we had an eternity until then.

But I blinked and here we are.

Once we take her final pictures I want to make a movie showing all the chair shots in sequence from first to last and today when I went to source out some of the early photos I came across an unfinished movie from her first year. It was almost done, so close, yet somehow I never found the spare, quiet moments I required to give it the finishing touches.

Until today. Home sick with Bella, laptop with me on the couch, I finally got the chance. It's not perfect and you'll have to forgive my singing at the end, but it's done.

She and I had our moment together this morning, snuggled up and watching it after all. I cried a lot and indeed I marveled at how much she, we, have both grown and changed.


Music Credit: Lullaby; The Dixie Chicks

This weekend Bella and I will shoot her last chair photos. I hope it won't be another four years before I can put together the complete sequence. But I'm not holding myself to any goals this time. Because it all happens. Like it or not, it all just keeps on happening.

PS. The song this video is set to was played at the end of every single prenatal yoga class I went to while I was pregnant with Bella. To this day I can't hear it without being flooded by the memories of what it felt like to lie still in that dark room, holding my growing belly and dreaming about the days to come. Four years of those days have passed already but I'm still dreaming. And I still love this song.

Tiny Dancer: The Bonus Footage

Bella loves her Saturday morning dance class, but her favourite part of the ritual by far doesn't happen until her class ends. She bursts from the studio, flushed and smiling, proudly showing me the stickers she's earned, then takes off at a run to the end of the hall where a ladies aerobics class is just getting underway. She stands just back from the doorway and stares with eyes wide, mouth agape, at the women as they grapevine and high-kick themselves into shape. And she's totally and utterly riveted. Before long she's moving and shaking right along with the work-outs. And. It's. The. Cutest. Thing. Ever. FACT.

This is a video I caught during the first time she ever watched the class, she'd never seen aerobics before so she was mesmerized by the music and movement. She's gotten quite good at the moves now so me thinks an updated version is in order. Karen Kain she may not be, but Jane Fonda? I think perhaps yes.

They Say It's Your Birthday

Today my baby girl is 3 years old. I'm stunned. A full birthday post will have to wait because we're dead in the middle of packing and purging and washing and, of course, wrapping... getting ready for her party this afternoon.

So for now, enjoy the unbridled joy and excitement of my beautiful big girl (I really can't say baby anymore, but she always will be mine) yesterday as she prepared herself to say bye bye 2 and hello 3.

Jane's (Ok, Bella's) Addiction

I have made a huge mistake.

But wait, before I get to my miserable parenting failure, let's talk for a moment about Crown's parenting success, which happened first (and which ultimately I will blame for my own mistake). I'll repeat, Crown had a brilliant idea, I tried to copy it several months later only to have it blow up in my face. Yes, you heard it here first. I'll give you a moment to chuckle about it. THAT'S ENOUGH, MOVING ON.

Let's give Crown his moment to shine. A couple of weeks before we took our winter vacation to Dominican Republic, he downloaded several episodes of Dora and Sesame Street onto his iPhone. He thought it would be a great source of entertainment (read : distraction) for Bella on the plane and might come in handy on the vacation as well, if she started to get fussy or bored. He was correct on all counts. The iPhone episodes were a God-send. Even though ultimately Bella was excellent on both plane rides, the shows did help keep her in her seat and it did keep me from having to play with stickers for the entire flight.

Oh, but one thing, the stickers were my idea. And they were also brilliant. The only problem with the stickers is that at her age (just under two at the time), she needed one of us to actually remove the stickers from the page. This gets boring really, really fast for a full-grown adult. And it NEVER GETS OLD FOR A TODDLER. You catch my drift?

ANYHOO. Crown's iPhone kids shows = brilliant. We still use them from time to time and generally they are great. Except for in the car. Because in the car they make her vomit profusely and violently and yes we learned that the hard way. Yes we did.

Fast forward a few months ahead to a faithful day in March when I dropped my cellphone in the daycare yard and it smashed into a pulp and lost all my contacts. Bummer, yes? NO! Because that allowed me to get an iPhone of my own and I am in love with my iPhone and I'm not afraid to say it. I love you iPhone. I love you so much.

Bella also took an interest in my iPhone and I thought it was really cute. She actually learned to turn it on and find my contacts and make calls to people. Hee hee, isn't that cute? OMG it's sooooo cute. I thought it was soooo cute and that she was such a genius about being able to use it so easily, I mean, she's not even TWO AND A HALF and she can use it almost as well as I can. It's amazing! She's advanced! Her brilliance should be encouraged. At this rate she'll be developing new technologies for NASA by her tween years!

So what did I do? I learned to put the phone on Airplane Mode, so that she couldn't call and bother my contacts anymore (sorry, Barberella my hair salon, that person that called you 40 times and just said "hello, hello, hello" into the phone? That was my toddler. Please don't take it out on my hair.) I got a case for my phone, so she wouldn't be quite as likely to guarantee it the same fate as my last phone. And then, and here's where the colossal FAIL kicks in, I downloaded her several toddler-friendly apps and let her at it.

Sigh.

For a while it was great. It started out slow. "I want Mommy's phone. Mommy, I want your phone." It was a way to get her to stop focusing on the television. "Mommy, can I have your phone, I want Mommy's phone."

Haha. "She sure loves it. Ha. Cute. Ha?"

I now know she was just humouring me by calling it "Mommy's" phone. As soon as there were flash cards that made actual animal sounds and games that allowed her to interact with Dora and Boots, that phone was no longer "Mommy's" at all. But for a while she kept up the pretense that it was mine. Soon the asking became demanding. And soon the demanding became full-on spazzing. Not just when she suddenly wanted the phone, but every single time she saw it.

"MOMMEEEEEE"S PHOOOONE. I NEEEEED IT. I NEEEEED IT MOMMY!"

And now? NOW? Now I can't even pull it out when she's in the same room without handing it over. This means I can't use the phone ever when she's with me. Which, unless I'm at work, is ALWAYS. And when we're together it has to remain on Airplane mode so that when she gets it (and she always gets it) she can't disturb my friends and colleagues with her random texts and calls. So, essentially, it is not a phone at all anymore. It's Bella's expensive and sophisticated play thing.

That's right. I am the enabler of a toddler with a serious iPhone addiction. And I want to free her of it, I really do. Sometimes I get tough about it. "NO Bella. Not right now. Mommy is using the phone. This is MOMMY'S phone. You have your books and toys. Play with those."

And you want to know what happens? Well I'm about to show you. I assure you, no toddlers were hurt in the making of this video. It's quite possible that a mother was slightly injured. After you've watched this you may laugh at my parenting fail for one full minute and we'll never speak of it again.

You've Got a Friend

One of the most amazing things that Bella has learned at daycare is the concept of friendship. She has a little gaggle of gorgeous children that she's been together with now for a year and a half. At daycare all the kids are referred to as "friends" in their daily language and so Bella has been talking about her daycare "friends" for many months.

She definitely has favourites. Two boys, in particular, Duncan and Carter, I'd consider to be her current BFFs. The three have been together since the first trying days of the infant room right through until two weeks ago when Carter (probably one of Bella's favourite people ever, she actually said "Carter" before she said "Mama," no joke) was graduated over to the preschool group. I felt sad that the two would be separated for a while and worried that Bella would be upset, but kids are resilient as we know, and though she asked about him the first few mornings he was gone - "Carter is in preschool Mommy?" - she mostly took it all in stride and seems to know that they will be reunited soon.

And by soon, I mean a matter of weeks! My little baby is starting preschool on July 5. PRESCHOOL. Which, though she's moving over a little young, and I know it's just a fancy title for the daycare group, still means that she is in the realm of being a school-aged kid. This makes me feel a little dizzy. And I'm sure that the speed at which my little baby will develop once she moves over with the "big kids" won't do much to sooth my spinning head.

The transition itself also has me a little stressed. She didn't deal that well with her move from the infant to toddler room, and she's a kid that is very set in her routines. I anticipate that there will be some tearful mornings for a while. But I'm also hopeful that because she's so much more communicative now, and able to reason a little more than she was last summer, this move will go a little smoother. Plus, she's moving with Duncan (BFF #2) and Erin (another favourite "friend") so I'm sure that they will all provide each other with some sense of stability and comfort. And of course, she'll be reunited with Carter.

Though Carter may be Bella's favourite human friend, I think this might be a good time to point out that she's got another very good friend in her life. One that has become a daily playmate, a special constant, a protector, a furry force to feed, cuddle and torment. I was so worried when Bella was born that she and my fur baby would not get along. Thankfully my worries were entirely and astronomically unfounded.


As it turns out, my formerly crusty and kid-hating pooch is just a big softy after all. He's understanding, gentle and patient with her, even when she's trying to shove a sticker down his throat or use his curly tail as a teething toy. Just as any great friend should be.

Here's proof:

In the Morning

Nobody in my family is a morning person. Not a single one of us, not even the dog. As such, I was a little worried when I went back to work and took over the "morning duties," which include getting myself up, showered, dressed and ready and then getting Bella up, dressed, fed and bundled. Then I walk her up to daycare before starting my own commute to the office.

Surprisingly, now that I've been back to work for just over a year, my mornings with Bella have become my favourite part of the day. We usually have a good hour together, just she and I, and there's nothing more beautiful to me than seeing her sleepy face when I go in to wake her up.

Bella wakes up just like me, hair everywhere, face a little puffy and a lot pouty, slightly demented with the fogginess of early morning. She's usually crusty but in a funny way, quick to fight me on every detail, but always just a tickle away from hard-earned giggle fit. I love how she smiles and chats to herself while enjoying her morning bottle in my bed, while I try on outfits and put on my face.

I love picking out her outfit for the day and take immense pleasure in all her tiny adorable fashions. I am going to be really sad the day she stops letting me help her choose her clothes.

I have to admit, that while I love our morning ritual together, the pleasure ends quickly once we're done upstairs and have to head downstairs for breakfast. This part of the routine always feels rushed. My girl likes to eat slowly while wandering about and there's no time for dawdling once we hit the kitchen portion of our morning. I always have one eye on the clock and she always knows it.

That's not to say that we don't have struggles upstairs too. Oh. WE HAVE SOME STRUGGLES. It's just that while we're upstairs the day is still young and fresh, and the ticking clock is still out of sight. Her feisty attitude is hard not to love when she's traipsing around in footy pajamas and bedhead. Her screams and disagreements are met with my own smiles and hugs. It's our special, private time of day, and despite the struggles I'll treasure our mornings together for as long as the sun does rise.

Happy Birthday to You: 2 YEARS OLD

Dear Anabella,



Yesterday you turned 2 years old.

As I type you are climbing in your new little chair, a gift from me and Dad, wearing your paper birthday crown (yes, still), your feather boa and chattering away contentedly to yourself. Happy, curious, talkative, adorable. Two. Two!

There were several moments this week, leading up to your big day, when I was literally stopped in my tracks with a racing heart and breathless disbelief that the day was going to come. That we'd gather as a family and sing happy birthday to you for the second time. Already? How?

This was a good week. You were feeling well after months of struggling with an on again, off again cough and cold. We finally dosed you with antibiotics and holy wow! Thank you modern medicine! Suddenly you were yourself again. We shared snuggles, and fits of laughter, tickle fights, and quiet moments just sitting close. These magical moments make me want to hit the pause button and freeze time. Stay like that, happy and laughing and so in love with you right then and there, just like that, forever.


But at the same time that thinking makes me recoil at the inappropriateness of it. Because for so many moms and babies in this world, those moments to get frozen way too soon. A horrible thing happened in Haiti this month and it's shaken me to the core. Not only because of the sheer unimaginable horror of it all, but because we were together on that very island only three days before the earthquake hit. We shared one of the most beautiful weeks of my life on that very island that today has been utterly devastated by the very same nature that we were frolicking in mere days beforehand.

I guess what I'm trying to say, is that even though I wish at times that I could keep you small and sweet forever, I do not for one moment take for granted the absolute privilege that it is to watch you grow. Not even the tantrums or the "NO MOMMIES" or the 500,000 episodes of Dora (Doo doo doo Dora doo doodoodoodoo Dora) that you make us watch over and over and over.

Two years ago yesterday at approximately 4:30pm, I looked down into your tiny, perfect little face and held your fresh, warm body against my chest and I thought, in that moment, that it would not be possible to feel a love any greater than I did right then. I thought, utterly incorrectly, that if we could freeze that moment I'd have already reached my capacity for happiness. But that wasn't true. Because today I love you a billion times more. Every day I love you more and more.

Happy birthday Bella.



Love,

Mommy

If You Like Pina Coladas

Just got back from a week in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic and our first international family vacation. Suffice it to say that we had an amazing time and that all of us needed the getaway and the week to just unwind, reconnect and relax.

And relax we did. Especially my Bella. My shy, reserved, cautious little girl took to the new routine (or lack there of), the sand and surf as I should have known any child of mine would. I could literally see her shedding her shell and letting loose almost as soon as we arrived. She was all smiles, giggles and unbridled joy as she frolicked in the ocean, rolled in the sand, and perhaps best of all, danced and danced to the sounds of the salsa and merengue that was the backdrop to our seven days and nights.

The affects of a whole week, just the three of us, with nothing to do but be together, unburdened by work and chores and our busy city life can not possibly be summed up or demonstrated any better than by this video, shot in front of an airport full of people as we waited to board our plane and fly home. My girl, unselfconscious and as carefree as any toddler should be, shaking what her mama gave her, dancing like there was nobody on earth but her and us. Making my hopes for her come true, even if just for a few blissful moments:

Happy Birthday To You: 21 Months Old

Dear Anabella,


Last weekend you turned 21 months old. As per usual I am stunned by this amazing feat of amazingness. Every time the 30th of the month rolls around again, it hits me like a freight train, I HAVE A CHILD AND SHE IS XX MONTHS OLD. Just so happens that this month it's 21. Could be 25 years and I'd probably feel the same degree of shock and awe.

I have a million and one stories that I could tell about the crazy things you've done this month. The 200,000 ways you've made me laugh out loud. Or, I could list off all the accomplishments and milestones that you've crossed off the grand list of things that happen when you transform from an embryo into an actual walking talking human child . But I think this month I'll spare you the rambling, gushing, mother-is-so-proud speech. Instead, I'm going to let you do what you have learned to do best this month, speak for yourself.



Don't judge me for the weird things I have you repeat. I swear that they are all words and phrases that you say on your own accord all the time (including "Mommy's coffee," which this entire family knows is the single most important thing that happens to Mommy each day). But these are a selection of my favourite words and a) I wanted them recorded so I'll always have that sweet little baby voice to go back to when you are 16 years old and mumbling obscenities at me under your breath and b) I needed something to do in order to distract you from throwing your entire lunch to the dog.



In fact, these vids were recorded at the beginning of October. By now you are saying so many more words and phrases and singing so many songs that I'd be hard pressed to get a fraction of them on film. Besides, though you belt out songs and chatter up a storm on the regular, as soon as the camera appears you clam up and get a little shy and weird. This behaviour is not going to help you bring home the big bucks as a world famous movie/pop star. I'm just saying.



So concludes another busy month. All of the growing and talking and singing and SCREAMING "NO NO NO" at the top of your lungs and chasing Moet and not brushing your teeth EVER and throwing all your Cheerios on the ground and jumping but only getting one leg off the ground and having your picture taken 376,080 times is clearly exhausting stuff. As evidenced by this happening during your 21 month photo shoot:


Guess that's a wrap.

I love you,

Mommy

Happy Birthday to You: 19 Months Old

Dear Anabella,


A week ago you turned 19 months old. And this month I can officially say that you are no longer my baby and are officially my toddler. TODDLER. You toddle. You are in the toddler room at daycare. You talk. In sentences. Small sentences, but still! Talking. Like a human-being. And all of it, all of it is BLOWING MY MIND.

I think for some reason, deep in the back of my brain, I had this notion that maybe you were content to just stay my baby forever. That I'd be carrying you around and listening to your incoherent, yet incredibly endearing, coos and gurgles for the rest of time. Like maybe I'd be taking you to college, strapped firmly and securely in your car seat, wheeling you to classes in your stroller and listening with glee as you met your dorm mate by grabbing a fist full of her hair and enthusiastically saying, "Baaabababa," with a slobbery toothless smile. Guess what? NOT SO.

In fact you are going to grow up to be a grown up person who is growing and continues to grow. I recognize that this is the preferred course of action and that it's not really desireable to have a college student who is still a baby. So why did it take me 19 months to grasp this concept? I blame hormones.

So many fun things to report on this month, but first there's this. We transitioned you to the toddler room at your daycare this month. AND IT SUCKED. For two full weeks it sucked so badly. You clung to me and you screamed for me when I left you in the mornings and you were out of sorts and cranky when we brought you home at night. It lasted two weeks and I cried every day when I left you there and I cried most of the way to work and I cried at work. It is pretty safe to assume that I did more crying than you. Much more.

I should note that about a week and a half into your transition, you got bit on the face by another baby. And I mean BITTEN. And it set you back a few days. Not surprising really, just look what the little cannibal did to your face:


Then, we reached the two week mark and I dropped you off one morning, and instead of screaming and clinging to my legs, you waved at your friends, said, "Hi Duncan!" and walked into your new room without so much as a backward glance at me. And we all applauded and cheered for you! And then you know what happened? I cried again. Shocking.

You have settled in beautifully now and I know that you are happy there. I know that it's so good for you to be there and I am incredibly, tremendously, enormously proud of you.

Your move to the toddler room also proved to be exactly what you needed to encourage you to become a full time walker. You're on the move, Child! It's still a bit shocking for me to see you just stand up and walk, this may be another concept that's difficult for me to grasp. Do not be surprised if you are 16 years old and I suddenly turn to you and say, "Bella, did you just WALK OVER HERE?" I'm slow on the pick up. Deal with it.

As amazed as I am by this walking business, hands down, bar-none, the most amazing, entertaining, and mind boggling thing you do right now is talk. You just say stuff. Stuff that is actually in ENGLISH and makes sense. Stuff like, "Peees" (please) and "Taaake Oouuu!" (thank you). And sentences like, "More pips, peees" (more chips, please) and "No! Momo! No!"



I can listen to your words five zillion times and never, ever tire of hearing them. There really isn't much that you can't say now, as long as we remain open to interpretation. Among my favourites this month: Bubbles! Pickles! Anabella (which, by the way, you like to say in a strange Frankenstein-like voice)! And instead of Mama, you now say, "MummEEE?" Just like that, like it's a question every time. And every time I hear it? You guessed it. My heart explodes.

You can count to three. You can fetch stuff and bring it to me. You can brush your teeth (though you hate it) and you can distinguish between the pink hat and the orange hat. You love shoes. No wait, more emphasis required with this one, YOU LOVE SHOES. You will sit and play with a pair of shoes for an hour. I'm not kidding. You love Moet. You can throw and kick a ball. I'm turning 34 in a few days and I still can't do that very well. I hate to use the term 'soccer prodigy' so early on, but I will because do you know how much money a professional athlete can bring in?!



This is all a long winded way of saying, Anabella, I love all of you. I love who you are becoming. I love watching you grow. I love anticipating what might come tomorrow. I love how every day with you is like a little gift, just waiting to be unwrapped.

I love you,

Mommy

Happy Birthday to You: 18 Months Old

Dear Anabella,

This week you turned 18 months old. Just so we're clear, that's one year and one half of a year. Holy effing eff. Some amazing things have happened this month and I want to take time to write them all down for you, but it's late and tomorrow we're leaving on our family summer vacation. I've been sitting here for a while, contemplating what things I should select to jot down about this month and all I can come up with is HOLY EFFING EFF. I am the mother of a toddler.

A toddler who just today graduated from the infant room at daycare, complete with a graduation cap and little celebration party with all your baby friends and your lovely caregivers. A toddler who can say her own name and who knows all the pieces to her puzzles and can name all the characters on her diapers. A toddler who still loves to sing and dance, has made up her very own word for butterfly (Laalow!) and who, when tired and ready for bed, will look at me with her big sleepy eyes and say, "Bed, Mama."

A toddler who has grown to love her dog so much that first thing in the morning, when I lift you out of your crib and we share our morning hug and kiss will point towards the stairs and say, "Momo!" And I know that you can't wait to get downstairs and share your Cheerios with him.

But most importantly this month you became a toddler who can toddle! You are still not very steady and you hesitate to take more than a few steps at a time and always towards someone, never away from them. But you know what? I'm so proud of you. There is simply nothing in the universe that gives me more pleasure than watching you stand up all on your own, reach out your chubby and still babyish little arms and walk towards me all on your own. I know that so soon, well before I could ever be ready, you will be walking away from me. And of course, I want you to go forward with confidence, grace, curiosity and strength. But today I will relish in those teetering, toddling steps into my outstretched arms.



I love you,

Mommy

Say My Name, Say My Name

You may have already seen this on Facebook, so feel free to disregard. It's just too cute not to document here as well.

It's amazing when your baby suddenly discovers that she has a name of her own. It's a tiny thing, in Bella's case it's even a tiny word, but it's a huge step towards discovering her independence.

It's Hip to be Square

I recently posted about an illness that Bella went through that caused her to stop moving and have severe muscle/joint pains. Symptoms were a few days with a low grade fever, pain and discomfort whenever we moved her, no moving on her own at all, and severe pain and screaming/crying all through the night (very out of character for her). After about three days the fever was completely gone and started to regain movement, but continued to have pain in her right hip that lasted for just over a week and caused her to completely stop rolling over, pulling herself up to sitting, crawling, standing up, etc.

It was a terrifying ordeal for all of us and when her discomfort first started (it was mild at first, she only cried at night, but this was so unusual for her that I knew something was up), I took her to her pediatrician who examined her and found nothing. He told us it could be a stomach ache, or it could be constipation, which was what I initially thought it might be because I simply couldn't find anything else wrong but I knew that she was in some kind of pain.

The next day the fever kicked in, her pain clearly got worse, she screamed all night long in agony and we ended up going to the after hours Children’s Clinic on the Danforth (where I will NEVER go again – straight to Sick Kids for us from now on) and basically being told by the doctor that examined her that “everything was fine, it’s 'probably' a virus, and just to 'wait it out'). And because I didn’t know what else to do, I just listened to him and we waited. And waited. And I stressed and worried and cried in frustration every single day.

Thankfully, she did start to get better and we assumed that maybe she had just injured her leg somehow during her "illness" (which we still couldn't explain) and we missed her falling or spraining something and she just needed time to heal. Because her pediatrician was away for the full week after our weekend of hell, we didn't take her anywhere to follow up because I was adament that I would not go back to that clinic. By the time our doctor was back, his wait times were so long that we chose to cancel our appointment rather than put us all through the waiting, and waiting and waiting that would have to happen in order to get her checked out.

Recently a friend of a friend’s son came down with something that had very similar symptoms while they were away at a cottage. He was rushed to emergency where they did a number of tests and determined the illness to have something to do with a build up of fluid around the hip. When I heard about his symptoms and realized sounded exactly like what Bella had, I did some research and discovered that it was something called Toxic Synovitis.

I’m now almost certain that this is what Bella had.

I wanted to share it with all the parents I know because apparently it is something that’s fairly common in children aged 2 - 8 (though can occur in babies and older kids too) but so far I have not run into a single other parent that’s ever heard of it.

In hindsight I know that we should have been more persistent in finding a diagnosis. She should have had some tests done to rule out something more serious like septic hip or another bacterial infection, which can lead to permanent damage of the joint. It's just so hard when life gets in the way and I feel tremendous guilt over the fact that I avoided taking her to the doctor or hospital because it would have interfered with my work day. Instead I just "let her be" as advised by some quack doctor who could barely stand to look me in the eye or give me the 60 seconds it would have taken him to listen to what I had to say about her symptoms.

From now on I will not be concerned about seeming like a paranoid, first-time mom, or about missing yet another day of work because the baby is sick. It literally sickens me that parents are forced to make the decision between looking after a sick child or going to the office - especially since in too many instances the office wins. The pressure is enormous, the resulting guilt is crippling and the bank account is the only thing that wins. From now on Bella comes first, every time, over everthing, plain and simple.

If that's square, then I'm hip to be it.

Anyway – here’s some info about the illness in case one of your little ones ever suddenly stops moving, starts limping or showing signs of pain that you can’t find any evidence of. I should also stressed again that we did not ever get a diagnosis, this is a little bit of me playing Dr. Mom, but if it's not what she had, it's eerily similar, the symptoms are dead on:

http://kidshealth.org/parent/infections/bacterial_viral/toxic_synovitis.html

http://www.drgreene.com/21_1212.html

https://www.google.com/health/ref/Toxic+Synovitis

On a positive note, after about two weeks, Bella made a full recovery from her illness. She's slowly starting to build up more confidence and this past weekend at my mom's house she even took a few steps on her own walking from Nana's arms to Papa. This is the little trooper last weekend at the cottage - cruising around as if none if it had ever happened at all. We should all be able to forget and move on so easily, no?

I Hope You Dance

I've spoken many times about my love of the super-cheesy Lee Ann Womack song, I Hope You Dance, and still defy any new parent (or old parent for that matter) to listen closely to the words without completely LOSING YOUR SHIT and crying for hours while clutching your child to your chest. Okay, maybe that's just me, but still.

I'm puffed with pride and swelling with love to know that when "she has the chance to sit it out or dance," my Bella chooses to dance every time.

She can't hear a beat, a strain of music, or even a repetative sound like the dryer or a train, without rocking and twisting and bopping her head. Bella has a beautiful voice and I love to hear her sing, but there's something so free and so primal about her need to move. I sincerely hope she'll continue to love music and dancing.

Many times after daycare, when we're all settling in for the evening, changing our clothes and getting ready for the bath, Bella will turn on the stereo in her room, crank the volume and do a little dancing to whatever music happens to be on. It's seriously the best. Here's proof:

Walk This Way

If you read my last post you'll know that up until last week Bella has been more than happy to stay as close to the ground as possible and less than happy to be pressured into getting up on her chubby little gams and walking about unassisted.

Well you can imagine my surprise then when last Thursday evening I'm standing in our kitchen (and by kitchen, I mean the 10 square feet in my town house that we refer to lovingly as "the kitchen") preparing her dinner when I heard some hysterical baby giggles and glanced down just in time to witness this:



Only I was so shocked to see her cruising by on her own two feet, even stopping and making a leisurely turn when she ran out of floor space, that it took me a while to snap out of my shock long enough to grab the camera! I only captured those last few fleeting seconds, and despite my desperate begging and negotiating and bribing and coaxing she would not get up and do it again.

I'm telling you, the girl has got to do things her way.

Sadly, I really think that she was right on the cusp of walking on her own, but she got very ill the day after this happened. The illness has been a serious one and rendered her literally immobile for three full days. While most of her symptoms have dissipated by now (a full week later) she still seems to have considerable pain in her right leg or hip and she still can't get up on her own to a sitting position, crawl or stand.

Set back.

I'm hopeful that somehow during the worst of her virus she injured her leg and that it's nothing more sinister or long-term than a sore or sprained muscle. We have an appointment to check it out with her pediatrician on Friday morning.

Until then I'm hanging onto my memory of this funny, fabulous first - seeing my little girl come walking by as if she'd been doing it all her life. Way to go Bella - I knew that you could and would and will get up and go when you are good and ready.

Happy Birthday to You: 15 Months Old

Dear Anabella,

This week you turned 15 months old.



People say that April showers bring May flowers and I, for one, hope that they are effing right.

We got rained on an awful lot this month, if by rain we mean violent stomach flu - times two (you and Daddy) - a nighttime trip to the emergency children's clinic and a diagnosis of pink eye, a nasty cough and cold, and two new molars on the bottom that turned you into a child that we hadn't met before and aren't too sure that we want meet ever again.

This string of bad health meant that you could only go to daycare for 10 days out of the entire month of April. 10 days. Do you know what that means? That means $160 dollars a day. We probably could have stayed in a pretty decent hotel in The Bahamas for that amount. You now officially go to the most expensive daycare in the entire universe. Lucky you.

The thing about the daycare is though? Despite the fact that you like to rub noses with the boys and bring home cooties, they are actually teaching you an awful lot over there. So let's talk about the fun stuff for a moment. Dude? You can TALK! You've learned so many new words this month and it is so fun to discover your ever expanding vocabulary at the end of the day.

The difference of this month over last is that not only do you have all these adorable little words, but suddenly you are really making the connection to actual things. For instance you will see your little sun hat and say, "Hat!" while pointing to your head. Or you will point at your bookshelf, covered in the most amazing collection of teeny tiny footwear and say, "Shoes!" You are totally into accessorizing. We are so screwed.

You've also learned to string a couple of words together, like after your bath when we're putting away the little floaty toys you'll say, "Bye-bye fish," and "Bye-bye duck." Except instead of fish you kind of say, "Pipsh," but close enough and way cuter to boot.

While your vocab continues to grow day by day, I have to say you're a little delayed in the mobility category, much to the dismay of your teachers who have been putting a lot of time and energy into getting you to stand up and walk already! I know that they are a little concerned because, really? By 15 months most babies are not just walking, but running and climbing stairs and doing lunges and solving the quadratic equation.

You are having none of it. You don't stand unless someone puts you there and you have no choice. You are more than happy to zip around with your turbo crawl, where you are close to the ground and therefore very unlikely to fall down and hurt yourself. You can't quite figure out why you should get up and walk when clearly, if you just point at something you can't reach and yell, somebody will bring it to you. Or, if you need to get somewhere in a hurry, you can just put your chubby little arms in the air and cock your head just so and somebody will most certainly pick you up and bring you there. D'uh. Walk? Whatevs.


Your favourite things this month include books, especially the Baby Animals one that you would like me to read 100 times in a row every single day even though it's really got no words and I kind of can't stand it at all. Goldfish crackers ("caacoos") are a big hit. You continue to love food (though you did go about two weeks without eating because of the flu, which caused me to have a stroke every single day until you were back to normal). Hanging you upside down never fails to score us some awesome giggles. Sitting and gabbing quietly to yourself when you think that nobody is listening. And In The Night Garden, which you now watch every weeknight at 7:30 p.m. before bed. Every time you see Upsy Daisy, you blow her a kiss - "Mmmmwaaa" - and Mommy's heart explodes.

Sometimes when you are sitting, playing quietly or reading a book by yourself, I look over at just the right minute, you'll catch my eye and give me a knowing smile and in that second I see that my baby is leaving and this incredible, wise, funny little girl is taking her place.



I love you, Baby.

Mommy

Happy Birthday to You: 14 Months Old

Dear Anabella,


This week you turned 14 months old. This has been a tough month, but believe it or not it has nothing to do the hectic pace of our life as a family with two working parents and toddler. March came in like a lion because your little Rah Rah, aka The Momes, aka Momo, aka Doy, aka Moet the family pug suffered a terrible injury in his back. As a result we've all been thrown out of balance, because though we are only three people, our family is really a party of four.

You have been such a huge part of these past 14 months (23 if you count the time you spent wreaking havock inside my midsection) and the impact that your presence has made in our lives is evident right here, in that I rarely have the inspiration, or time, to write about anything else. If there is one thing that we know about Moet, it's that he does not take well to the thought of becoming just another family pet. You have been my baby for just over a year now, but he has been my fur-baby for seven years. It seems this month he decided that he'd take back a little of the attention he's been missing out on -- by throwing out his back and demanding that we look down and take notice.

If there's is one thing that I never want to happen in our family, it's for one of us, any one of us, to hurt. This month, watching Momo in so much pain has been extremely difficult for me, for Daddy and unfortunately, as a result, for you too. Because although you are still too little to understand exactly what is wrong, you are more than capable of recognizing that something is. You can read our body language, pick up on our anxieties and absorb our sadness.

**Author's note: Monday April 6: This post has been interrupted by the stomach flu**

Touche my little Bella. It seems you are far wiser than I give you credit for. Just as I was about to dedicate my attentions - and one of your monthly updates - to the dog, you caught wind and decided to one up the little fur ball by catching the stomach flu and turning all eyes back to you. You are a clearly a master manipulator, young one. I will not make such a foolish mistake again.

You've just spent the weekend in the hazy, uncomfortable state of feverish flu. This morning you seem a bit better, except I'm still cleaning up more poop than I really care to mention and yes, you have successfully averted our attentions from your sick fur-brother.

I think in your sickness; however, your dad and I have had a chance to see how much you have developed this past month.

In your sleepy silence we realized how many words you have now, and we've longed each day to hear you say them. To be met by silence and quiet whimpers in the morning was jarring, since we've become so used to your incessant chattering and singing.

To see you lying listlessly in your daddy's arms all weekend, when normally you fight such snuggles in favour of being on the floor by yourself, free to move and explore, we realized how busy you've become. How curious and active.

To try to feed you only to be met by, "No, no, no, no..." has been so worrisome because usually you attack your meals with such zest and joy, happily feeding yourself and the dog (that's the last time I mention him, I swear, do not revolt!) and chit chatting all the while.

Otherwise, though, you've handled your sickness like a trouper. Though clearly unwell and unhappy, you continued to sleep through the night, take your medicine and not get yourself too worked up with tears and turmoil. I think today you are on the mend and I can't wait for you to feel better and to hear your happy little voice around the house again.

My favourite new word this month is "caaacooor." It means cracker, and I'll tell you what it cracks - me up! But I think that your most endearing and heartwarming Bellaism has got to be your word for Moet, "Rah Rah" (your adorable version of a barking sound) because it's always filled with love. And I could swear that lately, in Rah Rah's time of need, your little voice has even been filled with concern. You are truly a sweet soul, little one.



I love you,

Mommy