Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
Paper tastes better than blueberries
Dear Scarlett,
You had your 9-month appointment with Dr. Becker yesterday. After getting weighed (18 lbs 12 oz) and measured (28.5 inches), you sat on the exam table and ripped the paper covering to shreds. You then put several of those shreds in your mouth and refused to open it until you had swallowed them. When the doctor came in, I believe my exact words were, "Well, we suck at this." He just laughed.
You got a flu shot and barely noticed, then crawled around on the floor, seeking out all electrical outlets and laughing at the doorstop. "Gets 'em every time," said Dr. Becker. He told us that you will be walking early, before you are a year, and that you will love it. I can't wait to see.
We also found out it is time for more food, more often. So today you had your first official "lunch" of chicken, peas and sweet potatoes. I tried to get you to eat a blueberry afterwards, and you did, but not without "dramatic gagging"--Aunt Lizzie's words.
You learned how to clap your hands this week, and will now crawl down the hall, stopping every so often to clap for yourself. You are also making some animal noises: "hoo hoo" is your version of "woof woof", and you do a great baby monkey impression.
This is all perfect timing for our trip to Chicago next week, where you can show off all your new tricks!
Love,
Mom
You had your 9-month appointment with Dr. Becker yesterday. After getting weighed (18 lbs 12 oz) and measured (28.5 inches), you sat on the exam table and ripped the paper covering to shreds. You then put several of those shreds in your mouth and refused to open it until you had swallowed them. When the doctor came in, I believe my exact words were, "Well, we suck at this." He just laughed.
You got a flu shot and barely noticed, then crawled around on the floor, seeking out all electrical outlets and laughing at the doorstop. "Gets 'em every time," said Dr. Becker. He told us that you will be walking early, before you are a year, and that you will love it. I can't wait to see.
We also found out it is time for more food, more often. So today you had your first official "lunch" of chicken, peas and sweet potatoes. I tried to get you to eat a blueberry afterwards, and you did, but not without "dramatic gagging"--Aunt Lizzie's words.
You learned how to clap your hands this week, and will now crawl down the hall, stopping every so often to clap for yourself. You are also making some animal noises: "hoo hoo" is your version of "woof woof", and you do a great baby monkey impression.
This is all perfect timing for our trip to Chicago next week, where you can show off all your new tricks!
Love,
Mom
Monday, December 13, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Being your mom
Dear Scarlett,
In these letters, I am always telling you about you. It's an incredible thing, to be able to watch the way you change daily. Just seeing your reaction to a certain book can make my day (or at least make my hour.) But I think I need to start telling you about some other things, too. Like about me, and about Dad, and about things going on in the world. So here goes.
I went back to work on October 18. I've been really happy having that piece of my life back, even though I miss being with you. I've worked at home since we moved here from New York, so I spend a lot of time on the phone and the computer. In addition to my regular job, I've started writing for a website called Dotcoms For Moms. I am their Healthy Mom and I blog weekly about websites and products that I think other moms would appreciate. Please don't tell them I ate ice cream and pizza for dinner tonight.
Sometimes it gets a little lonely or hard to concentrate, but mostly, I can get a lot of things done without the interruptions of an office. And when that happens, I have a little extra time for you. When I was on maternity leave, we used to take walks every day. Now there's not as much time, but I try to walk for coffee with you and Aunt Lizzie every morning, or as often as I can. The staff at Peet's Coffee knows us very well. They claim that you're their favorite baby, and it does seem to be true. They stop whatever they're doing to talk to you when we walk in. You will sometimes reward them with a small smile for their trouble.
When I'm done working, it's time for just me and you. Sometimes you nap, sometimes we lie in bed and you hunt the cats. Sometimes we just sit in your room and play. You love standing at your music table, looking at pictures of animals, and crawling up and down the hall, with an occasional detour into the bathroom or kitchen. When you nap, I read books. I just finished one called Room that has really stuck with me. It's about a mom and her little boy who are trapped, and how much they love each other. I can't stop thinking about it. It was a terrifying and heartbreaking book, actually. It illuminated the innocence and adaptability of children, and the utter faith they have in their parents. You might read it one day and say that I'm crazy for having written about this when you were 8 months old. But the way the mother in the book feels about her son, her fierce need to protect him: that's how I feel about you.
Dad is on a business trip this week, in Denver and Chicago. Which, I assume, is why you chose this week to go through the most terrible bout of teething we've seen yet. Your nose and mouth are a faucet, and you were up all day and night on Sunday. Things seem to be getting better, and I'm hopeful that those devilish teeth will pop through very soon. We could both use some sleep. Since Dad is gone, I've caught up on my episodes of Glee, which is a great show that I will never watch with Dad because he would ruin it with his commentary. We watch 30 Rock and The Daily Show Together instead.
Dad got a personal trainer and has been working out at the gym a couple of nights a week. I'm really proud of him for this, and secretly hoping it will motivate me to work out more. I go to a yoga class once a week, but other than that, it's been tough to find time to exercise. Does following you up and down the hallway count?
My life right now is simple and complex at the same time. Simple because it needs to be: I work, I take care of you, I try to wash my hair. Complex because life requires so much more than those things, and sometimes it feels like I'm hiding from the rest of it. But this time won't last forever. So if some things are left undone while I watch you repeatedly try to get your hand into the cat food bowls, I'm good with that. I suspect those things will still be there when I'm ready for them.
I love you,
Mom
In these letters, I am always telling you about you. It's an incredible thing, to be able to watch the way you change daily. Just seeing your reaction to a certain book can make my day (or at least make my hour.) But I think I need to start telling you about some other things, too. Like about me, and about Dad, and about things going on in the world. So here goes.
I went back to work on October 18. I've been really happy having that piece of my life back, even though I miss being with you. I've worked at home since we moved here from New York, so I spend a lot of time on the phone and the computer. In addition to my regular job, I've started writing for a website called Dotcoms For Moms. I am their Healthy Mom and I blog weekly about websites and products that I think other moms would appreciate. Please don't tell them I ate ice cream and pizza for dinner tonight.
Sometimes it gets a little lonely or hard to concentrate, but mostly, I can get a lot of things done without the interruptions of an office. And when that happens, I have a little extra time for you. When I was on maternity leave, we used to take walks every day. Now there's not as much time, but I try to walk for coffee with you and Aunt Lizzie every morning, or as often as I can. The staff at Peet's Coffee knows us very well. They claim that you're their favorite baby, and it does seem to be true. They stop whatever they're doing to talk to you when we walk in. You will sometimes reward them with a small smile for their trouble.
When I'm done working, it's time for just me and you. Sometimes you nap, sometimes we lie in bed and you hunt the cats. Sometimes we just sit in your room and play. You love standing at your music table, looking at pictures of animals, and crawling up and down the hall, with an occasional detour into the bathroom or kitchen. When you nap, I read books. I just finished one called Room that has really stuck with me. It's about a mom and her little boy who are trapped, and how much they love each other. I can't stop thinking about it. It was a terrifying and heartbreaking book, actually. It illuminated the innocence and adaptability of children, and the utter faith they have in their parents. You might read it one day and say that I'm crazy for having written about this when you were 8 months old. But the way the mother in the book feels about her son, her fierce need to protect him: that's how I feel about you.
Dad is on a business trip this week, in Denver and Chicago. Which, I assume, is why you chose this week to go through the most terrible bout of teething we've seen yet. Your nose and mouth are a faucet, and you were up all day and night on Sunday. Things seem to be getting better, and I'm hopeful that those devilish teeth will pop through very soon. We could both use some sleep. Since Dad is gone, I've caught up on my episodes of Glee, which is a great show that I will never watch with Dad because he would ruin it with his commentary. We watch 30 Rock and The Daily Show Together instead.
Dad got a personal trainer and has been working out at the gym a couple of nights a week. I'm really proud of him for this, and secretly hoping it will motivate me to work out more. I go to a yoga class once a week, but other than that, it's been tough to find time to exercise. Does following you up and down the hallway count?
My life right now is simple and complex at the same time. Simple because it needs to be: I work, I take care of you, I try to wash my hair. Complex because life requires so much more than those things, and sometimes it feels like I'm hiding from the rest of it. But this time won't last forever. So if some things are left undone while I watch you repeatedly try to get your hand into the cat food bowls, I'm good with that. I suspect those things will still be there when I'm ready for them.
I love you,
Mom
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Faces
Dear Scarlett,
It is Sunday evening. Dad is watching football and swearing at the TV. I'm sure he won't be pleased with me for sharing that with you, but by the time you're reading this, I think you'll probably have experienced a few sporting events with Dad. So. That's what Dad is doing. We just ate Thanksgiving leftovers for what seems like the 47th time in three days, and they are still delicious. And still not gone.
You had your own small Thanksgiving feast. You liked pumpkin a lot, but were not all that impressed by the turkey. You sat in your highchair at the dining room table during dinner and drank an entire bottle while tilting your head sideways to watch everyone. I had one hand on your bottle and one hand on my food and I still managed to eat a couple of full plates. We were all so stuffed that night that we didn't even have room for pumpkin pie. We ate it for breakfast the next day.
You had a great time with Pops while he was here. You spent a lot of time roaming the hallway together and playing in your room. Pops brought you a book and an outfit, but you were most excited by the ribbon on the package. On Friday, we took you to the zoo for the first time. We saw lions, giraffes, monkeys, and penguins. And yet, your favorite animals were the ducks in the pond at the petting zoo. You started wriggling around in Pops' arms when you saw them, trying to get down to play with them. And those ducks don't even all belong to the zoo; most of them just flew in to hang around at the pond for a while.
You have several new faces that we've seen a lot lately. The first is Twinkle Eyes, which is a smiley face where your eyes disappear. The second is Scrunch Face, which is a mad face where your eyes disappear. The third is Tough Guy, which is a face for Daddy. It's a variation on Twinkle Eyes, but with less disappearing eyes, and more pouty lip. I'll try to get photos of all of these.
Your favorite book is Goodnight Moon. When Aunt Lizzie starts reading it, you rush over to her and sit patiently in her lap until the story is over. You love to pull yourself up to standing, and to "walk" around. You have started screeching again when you get excited, and the sounds that come out of your mouth are so shrill, you sound like a 1960s teenager at a Beatles concert.
You are so much fun, and we are enjoying every bit of you. Even Scrunch Face.
Love,
Mom
It is Sunday evening. Dad is watching football and swearing at the TV. I'm sure he won't be pleased with me for sharing that with you, but by the time you're reading this, I think you'll probably have experienced a few sporting events with Dad. So. That's what Dad is doing. We just ate Thanksgiving leftovers for what seems like the 47th time in three days, and they are still delicious. And still not gone.
You had your own small Thanksgiving feast. You liked pumpkin a lot, but were not all that impressed by the turkey. You sat in your highchair at the dining room table during dinner and drank an entire bottle while tilting your head sideways to watch everyone. I had one hand on your bottle and one hand on my food and I still managed to eat a couple of full plates. We were all so stuffed that night that we didn't even have room for pumpkin pie. We ate it for breakfast the next day.
You had a great time with Pops while he was here. You spent a lot of time roaming the hallway together and playing in your room. Pops brought you a book and an outfit, but you were most excited by the ribbon on the package. On Friday, we took you to the zoo for the first time. We saw lions, giraffes, monkeys, and penguins. And yet, your favorite animals were the ducks in the pond at the petting zoo. You started wriggling around in Pops' arms when you saw them, trying to get down to play with them. And those ducks don't even all belong to the zoo; most of them just flew in to hang around at the pond for a while.
You have several new faces that we've seen a lot lately. The first is Twinkle Eyes, which is a smiley face where your eyes disappear. The second is Scrunch Face, which is a mad face where your eyes disappear. The third is Tough Guy, which is a face for Daddy. It's a variation on Twinkle Eyes, but with less disappearing eyes, and more pouty lip. I'll try to get photos of all of these.
Your favorite book is Goodnight Moon. When Aunt Lizzie starts reading it, you rush over to her and sit patiently in her lap until the story is over. You love to pull yourself up to standing, and to "walk" around. You have started screeching again when you get excited, and the sounds that come out of your mouth are so shrill, you sound like a 1960s teenager at a Beatles concert.
You are so much fun, and we are enjoying every bit of you. Even Scrunch Face.
Love,
Mom
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