Bopril

Good Night, Three

“When I have said my evening prayer,

And my clothes are folded on my chair,

Mommy and daddy switch off the light,

I’ll still be three years old tonight.

But from the very break of day,

Before the children rise and play,

Before the darkness turns to gold,

Tomorrow I’ll be FOUR years old…

Four kisses when I wake,

Four candles on my cake.

A goodnight kiss for the three year old

To send her to sleep and to dreaming.

And blessings to the four year old

Who’ll climb out of bed in the morning.”

*from The Birthday Book

I ached for her long before I experienced the joy of knowing her. She sets my life and heart on fire every day, and I don't take for granted the gift I'm given to steward her journey. As ever, I am excited for what lies around the bend. 

Happy birthday, my love. 

 

Good Night, Two

“When I have said my evening prayer,

And my clothes are folded on my chair,

Mommy and daddy switch off the light,

I’ll still be two years old tonight.

But from the very break of day,

Before the children rise and play,

Before the darkness turns to gold,

Tomorrow I’ll be three years old…

Three kisses when I wake,

Three candles on my cake.

A goodnight kiss for the two year old

To send her to sleep and to dreaming.

And blessings to the three year old

Who’ll climb out of bed in the morning.”

-from The Birthday Book

Two was a glorious year, and I'm ecstatic to experience all Three will bring. You light up our world, sweet Rowan Marie.

Happy Third Birthday!

 

Milestones

It’s been a big week around here. Prompted by a subtle suggestion from R’s teachers last week, we decided to give potty training an official go on Monday. By Wednesday, she was a pro with no accidents, and we haven’t looked back. She’s still using a pull up for naps and overnight, but otherwise has embraced her undies for all other hours of the day, including extended trips out and about for errands and the like. I’m sure we’ll have setbacks here and there, but I’m reminded again of her resolve and of what a smart little sponge she is. 

As if that weren’t enough, the Paci Fairy finally visited us yesterday and we bid adieu to the paci-at-sleeptime habit that has provided my stellar sleeper comfort her entire life. I underestimated how emotional this one would be. We began in the morning with great excitement over the letter and surprise left by the fairy, but were decidedly less enthusiastic when it was time to actually go to sleep and reality set in that there would be no paci. She spent two hours in her room, and I think roughly 30 minutes of that featured sleeping, if at all. The rest was a mix of whining and calling out for “Daddy!” and “Mama!” in an alternating sad-fest of “wipe my nose,” and sundry other requests to summon us upstairs. Daddy retreated outside to take care of house chores (and remove his ears from the action), and I went up at alternating intervals to soothe her and remind her how brave she is. At the two-hour mark, I got her up and congratulated her on a job well done. 

Rowan’s nighttime routine has long been an easy and relaxed affair with her willingly going through the motions of teeth-brushing, jammies, prayers, songs and books (and a bath on alternating nights). Since she was five months old, all she has required is her paci and Ellie and she plops willingly into her crib and drifts off to dreamland. Last night, she began whining when I first mentioned bedtime and continued all the way through. It broke my heart because I could see that she was very anxious, and after I finally got her settled, I cried and cried thinking about how difficult it must be for her to essentially find a new way to soothe herself after all this time. As she always does, she rose to the occasion and slept the entire night, waking at 6:15 this morning. We promptly headed to Starbucks where a celebratory cake pop was in order for this sweet, brave girl.

(I’d be remiss not to document our exchange at bedtime: Rowan: “I want Graham’s paci since mine is gone.” Me: “Graham is still a baby and he needs his paci. You’re a big, brave girl and you don’t need them anymore!” Rowan: “ok, so I can have my paci when I’m a baby again?” — Sweet, clever girl. Quite the negotiator!)

I worried we waited too long and made this harder for her. I worried she’d wake throughout the night, unable to settle herself. I worried most of all that she would spend even one moment unsettled or afraid in her room, a place that we’ve worked diligently to turn into her safe haven. I worried, because that is what I do. I worried because I am her Mom, and for her whole life we’ll need to sort through tough things among the joyful ones, and while I’ll always plan it out and hold us to it, I’ll still cry all the tears that my Mama heart needs to expel. This particular love still astounds me every day. 

To close out this milestone and make way for so many to come, I stumbled upon this Q&A last night from a grandmother who has four grown children and four sweet “grands.” I wish I could find her to tell her that her words found this Mama of babies right when she needed them most. I’ll do my best to remember this. Every day.

Q: Please finish the sentence: I wish someone had told me…

A: That everything would be okay. That all is well, and all will be well and all manner of things shall be well. I wish I had known just how fast time really would go by. I wish I had not been so hard on myself. I wish someone had told me that my family was perfect, just like it was, right in the middle of our broken places, and during some of our worst struggles. I wish someone had told me that we were doing just fine, even on the so-called bad days.

 

 

Letters to R: Two!

Dear Rowan,

First, a confession: I have been working on this letter since the minute you turned two. That was nearly three months ago. I’ve gone at it in fits and bursts, revisiting it when inspiration strikes, but mostly just trying to fit in the sentences between work and mothering and all of life’s other moving parts. It’s reached the point where I need to just push forward lest your two-year-old letter not see the light of day until you’re cruising toward five. The truth is that I feel a lot of things really intensely right now where you’re concerned. I love you more fiercely than I ever knew or thought possible, and the sense of responsibility I feel for your well-being but also for your ability to abide in this crazy world as a self-sufficient, kind woman who is comfortable in her own skin is so heavy that there are times when I fear it will bury me alive.

I should back up, because darling girl, things aren’t quite that dramatic. It’s just that you’re two. And you’re doing a lot of very two-year-old things like testing limits and pushing my patience to the edge and giving an emphatic middle finger to any attempt to thwart you from whatever it is you want to be doing. 

You’re a fire-cracker, Rowan. All passion and light and warp-speed, hurling yourself mock-twenty in the general direction of life. I love this about you, and at the same time, it scares the hell out of me. I want to find the right balance that encourages your fire, but puts the needed parameters in place to ensure your safety and keep us all sane as we figure it out. That’s a really tough math problem, darling girl, and we’re working our way through it one day at a time. My biggest hope in these specific days is that you’ll always know how very much I love you. Always, no matter what. We say this to each other all the time, but I am well aware that actions need to reinforce words, lest they just become white noise. I’ll continue to be firm with you when it’s warranted, and I’ll continue to tell you how much I love you and I’ll hug you after time-outs and reiterate that there’s nothing you could ever do that would change my love for you. But in the harried minutes of living out this phase of your life, I can’t help but second guess myself, and so it feels appropriate to give these feelings their due in your two-year-old letter.

And now, let’s go back to the business of celebrating you. Because at two, there is so much awesome to celebrate.

+++++++++++++++

Darling girl, you are two! I marvel at the time and I mourn a bit of its passing because I am sentimental that way, but most of all, I just marvel at you. You are splendor incarnate. You make me laugh harder than anyone ever has, you make me cry (sometimes out of frustration, but usually out of joy), you make me stretch in ways I couldn’t have understood before I had you, and you open my heart to every day joy and limitless gratitude.

You still run everywhere, and your knees often sport band aids to cover up the skinning that you accomplish on our sidewalk. Your vocabulary is extensive and it grows by the day; you speak in paragraphs, not just sentences and you’re well equipped to communicate your wants and needs to us most of the time. You remain a champion eater and sleeper, and the fact that you ask to go to sleep for naps and bedtime most days is not something I take for granted, especially among the toddler set.

You’re a riot these days, and while I have many treasured activities with you, my favorite is just watching you when you’re deep into independent play. Your brain moves at warp speed and you dash from here to there, narrating your every move and interaction with toys and dolls and your brother(s), both fur and human.

I want to remember these moments, all of them, and so I write them down for us:

The way you always respond “I’m doing GREAT!” with a huge smile whenever people ask you how you are. This also applies to naptime/bedtime. “Rowan, how was your nap/how did you sleep?” “GREAT, Mommy!”

Your infectious giggle and laugh, especially in response to the “tickle monster.”

How you adore and mother your beloved “Ellie” all day, every day. You talk to her, feed her, soothe her, change her diaper, show her the world and reassure her when she’s scared. It’s really amazing to see you work out your own fears through your buddy. “It’s ok, Ellie! Just the vacuum cleaner – it won’t hurt you!”

You in your element – dashing through our house at warp speed, narrating at every turn. “Gonna put Bitty Baby in her carseat for a second. Let me just grab a burp cloth really quick. Ok, Ellie, now we’ll go for a walk to Starbucks and get some tea and yogurt.”

Your amazing ability to absorb our words and actions throughout the day and incorporate them into your play – “Ellie is fussy gussy today, let me just bounce her for a minute. Oh, you’re a hungry hippo, Ellie! Time for me to get you a bottle!”

Our bedtime routine, which I cherish. We make sure to “find all the tangles” when I brush your silky strands before bed, you ask for your prayer and two specific songs (usually Twinkle Twinkle and The Rainbow Song) and sometimes your prayer one more time before you are ready to call it a night. I always tell you that I love you big, big, big as the sky…to the moon, to the moon, to the moon…and back a million billion times, and we have hand gestures that go along with it and these days you say it and do the hand motions along with me. It’s the best.

You as helper extraordinaire. You love to have a job/role, and when we ask you to do something, your typical response is “sure!” Yesterday you helped put away the groceries, gathered all the bags and stored them, and you regularly help with loading and unloading the dishwasher and with doing laundry. And of course, you’ll happily grab a burp cloth or bib or toy for Graham when asked, too.

Random moments that remind me how smart you are: this morning as I was applying your prescription lotion to an eczema related flare-up on your leg, you said “Mom! We have to go back to the dermatologist to check on my rash!” Not just the doctor, you actually remembered that it was the dermatologist!

The way you stand next to me in the mornings as I’m applying make-up, grab a tube of chapstick, and say “Mom! I’ve got to put my contacts in!”

Your unprompted declaration of  “Mom! I love you!” when I leave for work in the morning or when I tuck you in for naps or at night. 

Your inclination to ask after your brother. You still often want me to put him down so that I can hold you, but it warms my heart each time you ask “where Graham go?” or run to him, kneel down and say “ Hi, Grammar-Jammer! What you doin’?!”

++++++++++

These barely scratch the surface, my love. You are clever and sweet and strong-willed and defiant and so very loving. It’s amazing to watch you grow. Know that you are loved, Rowan Marie. No matter what, forever and always, when things are fun and when they’re not, when you’re up and when you’re down, every minute of every day. Loving you is my greatest joy.

Happy belated two, my love. 

Mama

School Days

All summer, we have talked about school. Rowan has known for a while that her teacher is Miss Sarah, that she'll make new friends and read books and do art projects and sing songs and play and practice being a good listener at school. She's been excitedly talking about it for weeks, and while the majority of her excitement involves getting to wear her "pack pack," she's shown genuine interest in school every time we've talked about it.

Today was the big day. I labeled her things and filled out her forms and tucked pictures of our family into her file. I laid out her outfit and prepped her one last time as I tucked her into bed last night -- "when you wake up tomorrow, you will get to go to school!" "I'm so excited, Mama! I go to school, I wear my pack-pack!"

And this morning, I fed her breakfast and let her do her normal, favorite things. Then I got her dressed and propped her in front of our door with her official sign to mark the occasion. We drove the five minutes from our house to the school, and she walked in like the big girl she is.

Today was only an hour with half the class, and parents were asked to stay. Tomorrow is again just an hour, but she'll stay and I'll go. She did great today. There was a little shyness and fingers-in-mouth at the beginning, but soon enough, she was exploring the stations and toys and new friends with no regard for where I was. Toward the end, she wanted to be held and didn't want to participate in circle time, but those are new routines, and I know she'll adjust in time. This will be so good for her, and she will love the structure and the socialization and the new experiences. And tomorrow, she won't know it, but Mommy will be close by, circling the neighborhood with Graham in the stroller until it's time to pick her up. :)

She's only two, and this is only pre-pre-school, but I still marveled at how quickly the time goes as I stood back and watched her today. Didn't we just bring her home from the hospital yesterday? There are many, many school days ahead, but today was her first, and she embraced it with her usual, awesome spirit.

Godspeed, my beautiful girl. Learning is such a grand adventure, and I am so excited for what lies ahead.

Good Night, One

“When I have said my evening prayer,

And my clothes are folded on my chair,

Mommy and daddy switch off the light,

I’ll still be one year old tonight.

But from the very break of day,

Before the children rise and play,

Before the darkness turns to gold,

Tomorrow I’ll be two years old…

Two kisses when I wake,

Two candles on my cake.

A goodnight kiss for the one year old

To send her to sleep and to dreaming.

And blessings to the two year old

Who’ll climb out of bed in the morning.”

-from The Birthday Book

We love you, Rowan Marie. Welcome, two.

Park Dynamics

Dear Rowan,

Yesterday was a pretty good day. We went to two different parks, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, and that's an especially fun day for you because the park is your happy place.

You certainly tried my patience off and on; you're doing that more and more as you near the two-year mark and I am working on keeping my frustration in check as much as I'm working with you on expressing your emotions in better ways than, for example, hurling yourself to the concrete, howling. We'll get there.

But yesterday morning at the park, your showed your true spirit and it was the first of many times that I'm going to want to wrap you in a bubble and protect you from anything and anyone that might hurt your feelings or cause you harm. 

It was an innocent interaction; the park was exceptionally crowded thanks to lovely weather and kids of all ages and sizes were swirling about every play structure. You went to your favorite slide and I followed as closely as I could while also toting Graham in the double stroller. You went up and down a few times before encountering a bit of a traffic jam on the stairs.

There were two little girls, one looked to be about nine and the other was probably two or three. The smaller one's jacket was bedecked with hearts and you gently touched her shoulder and said "you have hearts on...so pretty!" She jumped down and ran to her Mommy without a word. The second (and older) girl had a tutu with little flowers all over it. You tried again..."your dress have flowers! so pretty!" She looked at you and she looked at me and with all of her nine years of wisdom and sass, she said "this is NOT a dress...it is a TUTU" and she tossed an impressive eye-roll in for good measure. I gently informed her that you don't really know the difference and that you really liked it, either way. Off she went to another part of the play area.

You were mostly unphased and unaware, but you did pause for just a second to look at me, and after I smiled and nodded at you, and told you it was so nice to compliment the little girls, you continued on your way. And in that second, I felt the weight of all the minutes and hours and days of encounters to come as you get bigger and the playgrounds get a lot more complicated. Oh my precious girl, hold tight to that sweet spirit of yours. Don't let the world and its complicated people with their complicated emotions take it from you. We all need it. I'll be right here behind you all along the way, so keep looking back at me. I'll keep you full to the brim with reassuring nods and whatever else you need.

Love, 

Mommy

Letters to R: New Seasons

Dear Rowan,

This letter is one I've been working through in my heart for a while now, and even as I hit publish, I'm not sure I've done justice to my feelings. Sometimes, words just aren't enough to convey feelings adequately, and I think this might be one of those times. We're in a unique and interesting season right now, sweet girl, and I'm struggling a bit to adjust to new rhythms, faltering in my assurance that I'm doing right by you, always.

 

But before we go there, a bit about the magic of this season, your season, and the myriad ways you break my heart wide open day after day after day.

 

You're twenty-one months old and every inch and pound of you explodes with joy and frustration and song and language and movement. You run everywhere, all the time. Endless loops around the kitchen island, back and forth from the living room to the dining room, wide and lazy circles in our tiny patch of city-yard, big, independent circles in and out of play structures at the park. You're a blurry vision of blonde hair and sparkly blue eyes, your face all expression and lit with discovery every minute of the day. Your communication abilities have exploded these last few months and you've forgone choppy baby-speak to articulate with full sentences what you see, what you hear, what you want and who you are. It's incredible to watch you develop and grow and express the amazing little being that you are. In fact, I'd call it the greatest privilege of my life, watching you develop into this amazing, tiny human.

 

Independence is your game right now and you want to walk up and down stairs, eat with silverware unassisted and choose every meal, snack and drink without adult aid of any kind. You don't suffer fools and you're quick to hurl yourself to the ground, throw things across the room, and yell NO when something displeases you. And for the record, you still bang your head into the wall, onto the floor or against whatever surface you find convenient and your Daddy and I are still so terribly confused about that one. I find myself caught in a balancing act most days, wanting very much to encourage your independence and reveling in the fact that you actually can do many tasks all on your own, but also wanting to protect you from potential harm and ensure that you've got discipline, good manners and healthy boundaries in your days. It isn't the easiest dance, darling girl, but most days we figure it out together.

 

You've recently set up strike against bathing of any kind and you shriek and scream like you're being tortured when we wipe you down after eating and especially when bath time kicks off the nightly rituals leading up to bed. I'm in the dark on what turned a previously fun and beloved experience into something to be feared and avoided at all costs, and that fact reminds me that while you're literally exploding with expression, you're still very small in the grand scheme of life and you can't yet articulate all of your feelings to us. It's a good reminder and one I'm working to keep top of mind. There are so many little things that your grace and your experiences are teaching me, Rowan. I always knew that guiding and teaching you would be part of my job as a Mommy, but I've been caught off guard by all that I learn from you. 

 

Just this morning, you said "Mommy, SIT" and pointed to the spot next to you on the stairs. I happily obliged and we read a stack of books and then I indulged another of your favorite activities: watching the videos I have of you on my phone. "Watch Rowan!" you say, and ninety percent of the time, I am unable to resist that sweet voice and the look on your face as you ask to watch yourself again and again. 

 

This is a time of big transitions in our family and I imagine that your world has felt a bit off kilter lately. You've mostly worn the badge of becoming a big sister effortlessly and taken our new days in stride. I love when you tenderly ask about Graham "see what Baby Graham doing!" you'll say, right when you wake up or at various points throughout the day. "Baby Graham crying...he's fussy gussy!" It's amazing how much you absorb when I'm not looking. Lately, it's normal to find you bouncing and swaying and shushing with Ellie or with your babies. You change their diapers, load them in and out of the swing and bouncy chair and I hear you saying to them "ok buddy bear, let's change your stinky diaper," and I just grin because you're mimicking what you hear me say to Graham throughout the day. 

 

You live to be outside and any tantrum can be instantly calmed by putting you into the stroller and heading to the park or even just by bundling you up and putting you in our tiny front yard with a few balls, sidewalk chalk and bubbles. "So, so fun!" you'll say, grinning from ear to ear. And then you'll see a deposit in the yard left by one of the pups and you'll say "don't touch the poop!" with a stern look and a wagging finger. You gleefully call out "airpanes!" flying above our heads, "choo choo trains" rumbling by on our walks and to you, every large vehicle -- truck or bus or moving van -- is "firetruck!"

 

Tender moments are still plentiful with you, and you'll happily dole out hugs and kisses to Daddy, Baby Graham, the pups and me, at least most of the time. "Love Daddy so, so much!" you'll say, completely unprompted. You're prone to give out hugs in the middle of reading books or playing stickers, it's as if you just need to express that you're loving this activity and you have no hesitation to show us exactly how happy you are. It's a gift that I'm nowhere near capable of describing with words, but know that I will treasure every single squeeze forever and always. 

 

Our relationship has shifted a little bit in the last few months and this is where things get difficult for Mommy. Toward the end of being pregnant with Graham, Mama felt pretty cruddy much of the time, and that coupled with my big, big belly meant that I couldn't play on the ground with you as much or give you your baths or lift you in and out of your crib without serious effort. Daddy stepped right in and picked up the slack and your relationship with him has blossomed into something truly special that makes my heart smile every day. And you've been so lucky to have your Nana here much of the time loving you and playing with you, and of course there is Nanny B whom you adore beyond measure. She's kept your days on track and your little spirit happy and fulfilled while Mommy has focused on feeding and changing and caring for our new little man. 

 

This is all really normal stuff, but here's the thing, Rowsie Roo, I miss you. I miss you so, so much. And I have this dark place inside that whispers at me that you feel like I've abandoned you and instead have somehow chosen the new baby. As I type those words, I recognize that they're silly, but it's how I have been feeling. I miss our adventures and our constant time together, and if I'm being honest, seeing you turn to hands that aren't mine has crushed my heart again and again. Last week, you'd woken up from your nap and I came up to suggest a walk together. You'd been out and about with Nanny B all morning and I hadn't see you much at all. Nanny B mentioned that you were headed up to the play-loft to jump on the trampoline, and sweet girl, you let me know without a doubt that was your preference over a walk with Mom. Logically, I know this was really a small thing -- you just wanted to jump on your beloved trampoline, simple as that -- but in my heart, it poured a lot of salt onto a wound that was already hurting. I strapped your brother to my chest and walked to Starbucks, tears pouring the entire way. This is a stage, a season, nothing more and I really do know that. I need to trust that you know how much I love you, that you know you're always at the top of my priority list, my most treasured girl. The truth is that I've been knocked around by these feelings because I wasn't expecting them at all. I had grand visions for this time in our lives, four months away from work where I could spend quality time with both of my kiddos like I've always wanted. Reality has a few more layers and taking care of a newborn -- especially a fussy/reflux-ridden one -- requires so much of my time and energy throughout the day. We're so lucky to have helping hands that love us and help us navigate this time, but when I allow myself to really look the truth in the eye, I know that the hurt of this experience is that I resent anyone shaping your days and your experience and your happiness that isn't me. 

 

I want to be the one you tell your stories to, the hand you reach for when you're hurting, the face you search for when you need comfort or want to celebrate or just want to play. In the end, it is great for you to love so many people and to be shaped by us collectively, but I love you so fiercely, and it is hard not to be possessive and hoard you all to myself. As with all things, we'll get into our groove and we'll smooth out all the wrinkles. But while we do (and even after, even always), know that you're my light and my heart has a permanent Rowan sized space where love just pours and pours and pours. There's no choice on either side, sweet girl. Because you and me (and Daddy and Graham and the pups)? We're a team. For always.

 

I love you...to the moon, to the moon, to the moon.

Mama

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fifteen Months

Our girl hit 15 months today. And at 15 months:

She weighs 25 pounds, putting her in the 75-90 percentile range.

She's officially gone off the charts in length, measuring 33 inches.

Her smart head still trends large, but is leveling off nicely, so now we can just focus on filling it with knowledge and wonder and fun.

She says "bless you" when someone sneezes in her presence and my heart explodes every time.

She runs constantly. Everywhere. And as a result she is sporting skinned knees, a bruised forehead and a scratch near her eye.

She prefers flipping through books on her own versus reading with us and especially enjoys pointing out the objects and saying what they are.

She dances and spins in circles, stomps her feet and claps her hands on command.

She adores singing and will dutifully clap each time I finish a song, even though my voice is truly the worst.

She's showing her defiance with occasional hitting and throwing of toys, to say nothing of shrieks and her tendency to bang her head in protest against whatever surface is handy (floor, wall, appliances, toys, etc.).

She gleefully yells "mama!" And "dada!" when she sees us and will hug and kiss us unprompted.

She still eats and sleeps like a champ and I think the month ahead might hold her official transition to just one daily nap.

She says more words each day and is thrilled with herself. Just today, Cooper had an accident in the house and she pointed and said "poo-poo!"

She lives to be outside and loves to squeal at doggies, point out trees and flowers and greet every passerby with a wave and sometimes a cheerful "hi!"

She's so very big and fast becoming her very own person, but when she is startled, she still runs full tilt into my arms and she still settles onto my shoulder for bedtime songs and prayers.

She's on that famous precipice: not fully toddler, but certainly not baby either. Each day brings something new and she's devouring her world with glee.

She smiles with her entire face and lights up more than just the room...it's the entire universe.

She's our greatest joy and she reminds us in the midst of life's crazy to slow down, to spin in circles, to touch the mums, to giggle and run and fall down and do it all over again.

Letters to R: Ten Months!

Dear Rowan,

As I write this, you’re closer to eleven months than ten, but that’s the way of our life these days and I am pausing to celebrate your tenth month anyway. We have hit double digits! TEN months sounds so grown up, sweet girl. You’re practically a lady. You continue to trend off the charts on the awesome curve, and most days, I could literally eat you up, I love you so much (with appropriate credit to Sendak for the oh-so-appropriate words). You babble and laugh and stand independently and walk a bit Frankenstein like, but you’re getting better each day. You’re all personality, and you do a lot of the following to express your feelings: shake your head NO (sometimes as a dance move, other times as an expression of preference, and still other times? Just because you want to, of course), swipe away my hand when it is somewhere you don’t want it to be (namely anchoring whatever toy you’re trying to tip over onto yourself), hurl yourself to the ground with impressive force, arch your back and many more. On the flip side though, just the other day I was in your baby enclosure (ok, it’s jail) with you and I was talking to your Daddy when you toddled over, bent down and planted an open-mouthed slobbery kiss right on my cheek. I mean, are you for REAL? Your sweet side is really emerging these days, and you’re so cuddly when you want to be and I’m not ashamed to tell you it is my very favorite thing in the history of ever.

You want to be outside at all times, and always moving too. We go for many walks and trips to the park and we spread blankets in our tiny yard and you crawl around it, leaning over to pick at the grass and explore whatever grabs your interest. You’ve become quite the social butterfly, and you wave to every adult, child and fur-baby you see on walks, at the park and when we’re out and about. You especially love to do this during our Friday morning walks to Starbucks. “She’s so charming,” our barista says. I couldn’t agree more.

Food is close to the top of your favorite things list, and we adore watching you gobble whatever we put in front of you. So far, you aren’t incredibly picky and you let us know you’re enjoying yourself with a continuous (and enthusiastic) “mmmmmm” as you’re eating. You’ve completely conquered your sippy cup with straw, and you gulp down water with gusto throughout the day. It’s hard to believe that in a very short time, we’ll leave bottles behind completely (sniff), but for the moment, you’re still enjoying them three times a day. I’ve been impressed at the ease with which you transition…we dropped a bottle about a week ago, and I’m not even sure you noticed. Puffs and cheerios and fruit and veggie pouches still round out your culinary repertoire, and you enjoy those three very much indeed. Soon the farmers markets will open, and I’m excited to take you along and score lots of fresh produce and foods for your ever increasing appetite.

Sleeping still rates pretty high with you as well, and our nighttime routine has truly become a treasured experience for your Mama. I hand you Ellie (your treasured elephant lovey) and you lay your head on my shoulder while we rock and sing our song and say our prayers. You don’t require any rocking at all, but I find myself lingering with you these days, remembering your shape and how easily you fit on my lap, on my shoulder, on my hip. I savor those quiet moments, baby girl and as I lay you down each night, I always whisper a silent prayer of thanks for you. You snooze until 6:30 or 7 in the morning, and lately, you wake up and just lie in your crib talking to Ellie and to yourself until you’re ready to begin the day. It’s adorable.

Your first birthday is on the horizon as are a million more milestones and moments of joy. The world has never been so amazing as it’s been since you arrived. You are our everything.

To the moon, to the moon, to the moon…!

Xo,

Mama

Oh, how you've grown!