Monday, August 30, 2010

Two Weeks in the Midwest, Part 1

Dear Scarlett,
I find this letter a little overwhelming to write, since it seems like there is so much to say. We got back from our vacation on Saturday night, after nearly two weeks away. You and I both have colds. Your nose is all stuffy and it sounds funny when you nurse. We've had the humidifier on in your room for the past two nights, and while it seems to be helping you, I look and feel like a congested monster. You're still happy to see me, though.

You were an absolute angel on the trip. You smiled at everyone, you did not cry (except at night when you were supposed to be sleeping--I'll get to that), and you handled all the traveling like a champ. We started our trip at Uncle John and Aunt Jamie's house in Anderson, Indiana, where Dad grew up. It's a small town that used to house a huge GM factory, and Grandma and Grandpa worked there before they moved to Florida. The factory is no longer there, and with it went about 30,000 jobs, but Uncle John still works for GM and drives to a factory in Michigan during the week. Aunt Jamie runs a daycare, so she was well prepared for your arrival.





Your cousins Jessica and Danielle came in from Kentucky to meet you, along with Jessica's very sweet son Eathan. Eathan is 8 years old and promises to teach you some fun games when you get older. On this trip, he was mostly concerned with not getting too close to your stinky diapers, and with trying to get me to go paddle boating with him. I did go out with him once, and he sang me some songs that he wrote, and told me exactly when to paddle, when not to, and not to touch the steering stick because he was in charge. After a while, he agreed to take me back to the dock so I could hop out and check on you (you were napping), although he wanted the stop to be brief, so we could go back out and find snakes.







You napped a lot in Indiana, which is good, because it was really, really hot. An old friend of Dad's named Keith stopped by the house one day. Dad hadn't seen him in about 10 years, so they had a great time catching up. Keith looked in on you while you were sleeping and said he missed having kids your age. Everyone says this, in fact, right before they tell us how fast you will grow up and to appreciate every moment. I'm sure this is true, and I find it alternately frightening and exciting.

We went to see the house where Dad grew up, the youngest of four kids. He shared a room with Uncle John when John was 16 and Dad was 6, and one of the highlights of this experience was when Uncle John shot Dad with a pellet gun on purpose to see if it hurt. But first, he let Dad get under the covers of his bed. It's important to know that Dad laughs when he tells this story.

From Indiana, we flew to Chicago for Ellie and Eric's wedding celebration. Nonnie and Pops picked us up and you laughed like crazy at Nonnie the whole way back to their house. You are such a happy girl, and no one can make you laugh like Nonnie. On Saturday, we dropped you off with Aunt Louise, Uncle Kevin, and Maggie. I'm pretty sure you didn't even notice we were gone, as evidenced by the pictures Louise sent. You took a walk, played in the Exersaucer, ignored the jump-up just like you do at home, drank 10 oz of milk in three hours (whoa), and remained cheerful the whole time. Dad and I had a wonderful time at the party, and got to hold baby Noah Zoloto, who will be a good friend of yours once we can get you two together.











Michele brought Carson and Seamus over to see you on Sunday. After a few minutes at the house, Seamus decided he was done and locked himself in the car. We eventually got him to come back out. Both boys got to hold you and we all posed for pictures.







Our week in Wisconsin is going to require its own letter, mostly because of Papa's antics, so I'll end here.

Love,
Mom

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Vacation to the Midwest

Dear Scarlett,
Today we leave for a 2-week vacation. We are flying to Uncle John's house in Indiana, by way of Dallas. Though I have never been a big fan of connecting flights, I particularly dislike them now that you are traveling with us. I like to keep the take-offs and landings to a minimum, and not head South in order to end up North. I don't think that's too much to ask, but apparently it's unreasonable to fly direct to Indianapolis from San Francisco. I am just going to have confidence in your ability to spend all day traveling. And I'll be ready for the meltdown when it comes.

From Indiana, we are flying to Chicago for Ellie and Eric's wedding. Note: you are not invited. You'll be staying with Aunt Louise and Maggie, which I'm sure will be way more fun for you and I KNOW will be way more fun for me and Dad. The day after the wedding, we are driving to Wisconsin for the remainder of our trip. We'll spend the week there with Aunt Lizzie and Rob, Uncle Paul and Meg, Nonnie and Pops, Nana and Papa, and Uncle Frank. You're going to swim in the lake, take cocktail cruises with us, lounge around in dresses instead of sweaters (frigid SF "summer" clothes), and direct your general cuteness to the members of your family who all wish they got to see you more often.

So, to recap: please be good on the plane rides, please be good for your babysitters, please be good when we are sharing a one-story, four-room house with what is practically our entire family. I know you can do it.

I love you,
Mom

Monday, August 16, 2010

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Monday, August 9, 2010

August Update

Dear Scarlett,
Two words: sleep training. We've been doing it for about 2 weeks now, and you are really getting good at going to bed. Naps are tougher, and there's definitely more crying, but I've found if I just leave you alone for a little while, you're much happier and you pass right out. When I go in and try to console you, your crying reaches registers that no mom wants to hear--ever. This must be what it's like to parent a teenager, someone who truly still needs you, but just wants you to go away. Except the teenager can talk back and slam doors. Also, they have more hair.

We do both your morning and afternoon naps at home for consistency, so my life has changed quite a bit. Whereas I used to just take you wherever I wanted to go, now I find myself sitting on the couch, waiting for you to wake up so we can make a quick coffee run before you have to go back to sleep. I'm ok with it, really, because I know it's going to make you a healthier, happier person. Plus I'm re-establishing my relationship with the couch, a seemingly long lost friend. We work well together.

Your newest acquisitions are a Bumbo Chair and a Jenny Jump Up, both of which you seem to be fairly indifferent towards. You indulged us by swinging around in the Jump Up, but I don't think you've truly considered the fun you can have in this thing. Give it a chance! But try not to bang into anything.

New books include If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Daddy Kisses, Good Night San Francisco, and The Mommy Book. You now try to grab the books and lick them, so I'm pretty sure you're going to love reading.





"Uncle" John was here to visit you this weekend. You slept a lot--good girl--but did manage to find time for a photo shoot.



Dad and I have been looking at pictures from when you were born. It seems like so long ago, and you're such a different baby now. You just seem so big, which is funny, since to most people you are still a small little thing. But to us you have grown almost inexplicably. You are so chubby and alert, so interested in your surroundings. Did I mention chubby? Your cheeks are such round little balls; they seem poised to roll off of your face at times. I kiss them all day just to make sure they stay where they belong.



Love,
Mom

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Monday, August 2, 2010