Nothing Terrible... Yet

I face each stage of mamahood with a little nervous energy about how I will handle what's to come.
And so I entered the Terrible 2's.
And so far...
Nothing terrible.
There is only more of a unique, individual little person to love
as he grows and changes.

There is the way that he eats his cereal dry and drinks his milk on the side.
There is the way that he hollers "game" every time he has tried a new activity that delights him.
There is the way that he is enamored with his new flip flops that tickle between his toes.

When he wants to do it, he simply states "self" or "Lindan by self"
and now sometimes has learned to say "hurt" if he is worried to really do it all on his own.

He strings together 4-word sentences to tell us all about what he observes in the world around him
and each commentary is a small reminder to stop and notice the world around you.
Daddy no go work.
Papa walking street, too.
Thank you, Mommy, donut.
Oma sit next you. 

He will try new foods but often spit them out.
He will say "no nap" but easily succumb to a story and song
after a chase around the house and a tickle.
He will go potty wherever he chooses. Well, within limits...

He counts 1, 3, 7...
He tries to hit any wild pitch that comes his way.
He sings and he dances and he spins and he rolls.
He's working on a somersault, and his letters, and putting, and his tennis serve.

He drums on the table.
He reads to himself.
He swings on his belly.
And he climbs.
Fearlessly, he climbs.

There is a lot to be learned from a boy who is two...
And so far, none of it is terrible.

two

Dear Lindan,
I can hardly believe that you are two already- and on Mother's Day to boot!
You have made me one lucky, and very happy, mommy.
Your growth and change over the last year is indescribable.
I feel so blessed to be your mom.
I know, I know... I am sure all moms say this about their children, but you are one special little boy.

From the way that you wake up with a smile around your pacifier to tell me about what you've squirreled away in your crib overnight and played with quietly for a half hour or so until I get you up.
To the way we get to read books together at bedtime- with your exclamations of pure delight over every last kitty or truck or bike or ball.
From the bottom of your cute little feet with the gnarly toenails that tickle so much they are hard to clip.
To your blonde ringlets that I can't bear to see on the floor of the hair salon again- at least not yet.
From the time when we eat our breakfast together each morning. You with your cereal and banana, milk on the side. Me with me avocado and hard boiled egg that when I bite it, you call the moon.
To the dinners we have as a family when you scorn the broccoli (though you love to say the word) and eat all the meat you can, preferably dipped in ketchup.
From your preference to be outside, all day and night, weather conditions disregarded. (Unless it is windy, then you cower.)
To the quiet times playing with puzzles and dolls. Or the loud times inside when you ride your bike around the table and down the hall, announcing your delight in doing so. And always wearing your helmet, on the bike or no.

From our car ride to "school" while you play and read books in the back seat. Proclaiming "done" when you expect me to take something from you and "glasses bright" when you need your cool shades.
To the way that you'll climb up on Papa's lap for shelter as soon as it seems that mom and dad are going to take you home to bed.
From your growing vocabulary that includes: cute, silly, tiny, fast, and guacamole.
To the way that you've learned to love to snuggle, laying under a blanket, or head on my shoulder, giving warm, wet kisses.
From the way that everything has gone from being yellow, to all the colors of the rainbow. Or count 1, 2, 9, 8...
To the way that you now say "ball" and I feel a pang of longing to hear you say "doh" the way you once did... when you were a baby.
And now you call yourself "boy".
A boy that I love with all of my mama heart and more.

Happy birthday, Lindan.

A Day in the Life: 20 months

The last couple of snow days home have given me a taste of just how fast this little boy is growing and changing. Which is a reminder that I need to savor each moment and record a few, too. It's too easy to forget.

I might forget the ways that he stands up in the corner of his crib and waits quietly for us to come get him once we notice him on the video monitor.
Or the way he greets you with a bright "hi" and then says "nap" before he will cuddle his warm body, heavy with sleep, against you.

I might forget the way he will take a break from nursing to blow me a kiss, or beat box, depending on the day.
Or the way he insists on walking around in his sleep sack until he is ready to "zip" to see his pj's underneath.

I might forget the way that he fusses when you try to change his diaper or get him dressed.
Or the way he settles right in to watch Yo Gabba Gabba or Elmo while we get him ready to start his day.

I might forget these days when he needs his bib because he insists on feeding himself yogurt, and hummus, and cereal with bananas.
Or the way he insists on a smoothie for the car ride to daycare and then reads books in the back seat while I drive.

I might forget that there are days when he clings to me, and days he just runs away after blowing me a kiss.
Or the way he tells me about his day with just a few words.

I might forget that he has crying fits each day that we get home and it's too cold to play outside.
Or the way he'll finally settle for the prospect of coloring or playing trains.

I might forget the way he says "yew-ow" or "boookh" or or "iiissshhh" or "L" once he can say them the right way.
Or the way he asks for daddy whenever its just us.

I might forget the silly, crazy fits of laughter when I smother him with kisses.
Or the way he'll plunk right down in my lap.
Or lead me by the hand to show me what he wants.
Or help me in the kitchen by throwing peas in the pot or sprinkle salt in a bowl.

I might forget the way that he throws anything in his hand.
Or this bruise he gave me because of it.
I might forget today's first time-out when he kicked me for telling him 'no'.
Or the way he clung to me after it, with tears in his eyes.

I might forget how much he loves blowing bubbles in the bath.
Or running in circles around furniture.

I might forget these first timid steps on his tricycle.
Or the way he pulls his choice of snacks from the cupboards, along with half of the pots and pans.

I might forget the way he says "cheese" when he sees my camera come out and then "baby" so he can see himself on the display.
Or the way he wants to watch the video of himself on repeat as many times as we will let him.

I might forget the way he runs in a game of chase when he knows I'm trying to capture him for bed.
Or the way he'll sometimes cry his protest when he was having too much fun to go to sleep.
Or the way he'll fall right to sleep once you lay him down silently.

And then we get to do it all over again.
But it's just a bit different each time.
And each day he's just a bit more independent.
And needs me just a little less.
But I love him just the same.
Or maybe a little more.

Resolution

This year, my goal is to learn to use my camera.

Really use it.

I got a new fixed 50 mm lens for Christmas and I want to play around with it. I want to better record our lives, and frankly, I just love to take pictures.
As a part of this goal, I have joined a group on Facebook that challenges us to take a Picture A Day, on a different theme each month.
I'm less than a week in, loving it, and hoping I don't lose steam.

It's all very experimental (see part one of my goal: learn to use my camera) and quite fun.
This month's theme is negative space. You'll notice I have a couple of favorite subjects. :)

It's also fun to see the small moments in our lives that tell our story.
That we are still in our pj's at noon on the weekends.
The stack of clean clothes waiting to be put away in the background.

A naked baby playing.
The mirror that needs to be cleaned.
The box of toys that's been dumped out, just for fun.

And a lot of smiles.
It's fun to look back on those, too.

Lindan's Words: 19 Months

Most people might not care, but when I look back, I want a quick snapshot now and again of what life is like with Lindan. I wish I did this kind of thing more often. Just a brief note on his going-ons.
Today I will note his vocablary to date. I am sure this is an incomplete list, but it's what I can think of, off the top of my head.

a- apple, Addy, auntie (ah-ee)
b- banana (nana), ball (doh), baby, bye, baa (any farm animal), boot, buttons, buckle, bottle, blow, book, bat, bath
c-
d- Dada, Daddy (Da-ee), down
e- eyes, eat
f- feet
g- go
h- hi, hummus, hike (as in football), hat, head, honk (geese)
i-
j-
k- knees
l- Lindan (in-in)
m- monkey (mon-ee), Mama, Mommy (ma-ee), miss (meesh), Maggie (Ma-ee), mitt, mwah!
n- NO, nigh nigh,
o- Oma, ow, out
p- Papa, Patty (Pa-ee), play
q- quack quack
r- Riah
s- snack (nack), spoon
t-
u- uh-oh, up
v- vrrrmmmm (any vehicle)
w- Willy, wee!, watch, WANT, wow, woah, walk, wee-wee, wawa
x-
y- yeah, yah
z-

signs- more, all done, milk, please, dog, train, bike, cereal, cracker, tree, thank you, eat, outside

Summer Learnin'

Summer happened so fast.
With so many lessons along the way.

Lindan learned to climb up and down stairs on his knees and his feet.
And how to recover when he fell.

He learned that it's a lot of fun to play in the dirt
but that the dirt doesn't taste so good when you put a fistful in your mouth.

Sand is equally intriguing
and no problem all over his face
or in his mouth.

Water is fun for splashing
and diving in, head-on
and blowing bubbles.

Chairs are for relaxing
and watching The Wiggles.

Dancing is best when Daddy holds him
but also fun to clap and stomp
and spin and bounce.

Cousins are great for playing that he's the live baby doll
or for letting him play Minecraft on their iPod.

Naps are best in his own bed.

Throwing things is fun.
Anything at all is good for throwing.

Easton is the best eater.

Mmmm means delicious,
ba-ba means "bye bye" or baby,
mm-ee means monkey,
da means down,
rrrrmmmm is the noise for cars
but when accompanied by a hand twist also goes for motorcycles.

Toilet paper is best for unravelling.

Bathing is unnecessary when you swim or play in a water table.

Mama's milk is always inside her shirt.
Her cleavage is also a good place to stash toys until you're ready to play with them later.

Oma comes over when Mama and Dada leave.
Papa comes anytime.

Watermelon and cheese and peaches and yogurt are delicious.

Stroller walks can be fun.
Climbing anything is fun.
Most of the cupboards are fun.
Balloons are fun.
Summer is fun.

A Day in the Life, 14 months

Looking back, I want to remember what it's like to live with an almost 14-month-old boy. Our day to day can seem mundane, but I am sure that with time I will forget the precious little moments that make up our lives.

You are in bed now about 6:00 p.m. and I won't see you again until about 7 in the morning. I will flick on your video monitor once or twice in the night when I get up to use the bathroom. I will admire your small form sprawled out across the crib, and smile before I fall back asleep.

In the morning you wake up with a smile, and once I pick you up you are immediately pointing to objects in your room, saying "dat" (that) or "wat" (want) and I will slip you out of your sleep sack and into a clean diaper before plunking you into your high chair for breakfast. Your current favorites are watermelon, yogurt, blackberries, nectarines, or some of mommy's smoothie.

After breakfast we'll wipe you down with a fuss before you head off to find your toys. You currently love balls (and a dog toy stick that cracks us up). You roll and chase and throw and experiment with gravity from every angle.

You have a few signs that you use intermittently. You can sign milk, more, all done, or eat. You also have a small vocabulary of spoken words that you use when you feel like it. You have said mama, dada, oma, papa, dog, baa (sheep), hat, hot, book, pees (please), wawa (water), and you always call a ball (at any distance) a "doh".

You also like to pull things off of the shelves and are very good at rearranging our dvd's, shoes, and books. Sometimes we read those books, and Jamberry and Where is Baby's Belly Button are still your favorites. You have many cupboards you can open and you like to pull out the pots and pans with a clatter. You also like to dump out the letters from your name stool, shake your maracas, or press any kind of button you can.

After a week of illness, you have bounced back (to our relief) into your old self of laughing, smiling, and saying 'hi' and waving to anyone you meet. You get a little disappointed when the strangers ignore you.

Now you are starting to walk for real. Well, at least more often. You took your first steps on May 30 but it wasn't until now that you have started to move efficiently on two feet. Crawling is still way faster, but you walk maybe 30% of the time.

You will go back down for your single nap of the day (that's a recent transition) around 11:00 and sleep at least 3 hours, sometimes 4. I putter around the house and try to accomplish my chores and find a few minutes for myself, too.

Once you are up, you are always very hungry and we repeat the breakfast routine. We know you are done when you start chucking your food onto the ground. That's Easton's favorite part and he spends all the time he can under your high chair.

Around now Daddy gets home from work. He wrestles with you on the rug or takes you outside to play on your swing set while I get dinner ready. Your current favorite outdoor activity is repeatedly climbing the stairs. You will also point to swings or slide and say "eee" (wee) when you want to ride.

You eat with us at dinnertime and then self-entertain on the floor while we finish and clean up. Daddy usually does your jammies and we try to brush your teeth. This is the best time of day for dance parties, too. We'll jam around the living room to the Grateful Dead, twirling and dipping and laughing all the way. You tend to get a bit slap happy about this time of day and its always fun to giggle and tickle before bed.

I still nurse you before I lay your down. I always kiss your forehead and whisper "How much do I love you? A bushel and a peck. For how long? Forever and a day." before I settle you in your crib. You always go right to sleep.

Then, I look forward to doing it all again in a new way on a new day. Just trying to be present and savor each of these small moments.

Dear Lindan

Dear Lindan,

Today is your first birthday and I sit typing this letter to you after you have gone to bed. I have lit your birthday candle for the first time to watch the wax melt past the big 1. Tonight, as I have for the last week, I sit reflecting on everything that has happened in the last year. It’s surprising to me how bittersweet this day is. I took you to have your picture taken just so I could mark today in our history together. I also worked on your baby book, your photo album, and decorations for your upcoming celebration. I will celebrate you so that I can look forward. Look forward to all the other years that will burn down on your birthday candle (and will be as amazing as this one) as I watch you grow.

I look through the pictures of you and see how each milestone comes together to make you who you are now. I know now that your early smile wasn’t just a fluke, it’s a part of who you are. Your easy smile delights just about everyone you meet. Your easy smile warms my heart every morning. Your easy smile has made my smile just a little easier, too.

You have brought so much joy to us. I never could have known it until I’ve known you.

I have watched you sit up, stand up, crawl, and cruise. I’ve watched you taste new foods and eat more than the Hungry Caterpillar. I’ve read you books over and over, due to your persistent delight. I’ve picked up everything you’ve pulled from the cupboards more times than I can count. I’ve counted your toes and tickled you everywhere. Nothing makes me happier than the sound of your laughter.

I think back to the first days with you sleeping heavy on my chest. I would look at you and sing Aerosmith’s “Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.” (Cheesy but true.) I didn’t want to miss a moment of you. I wanted to rock you, sing to you, hold you, kiss you, and love you every single second. A good friend warned me that my heart would grow like the Grinch’s and I keep that image when I feel like my heart could bust through my chest just for loving you.

I love to chase you crawling across the floor as you squeal with glee. I love to listen to you chatter with me from the back seat. I love to nuzzle your neck and kiss you until you giggle. I love to watch you explore and discover new things everyday.

So while I look back and feel a little tender to the touch thinking of your babyhood that is ending, I know that each of these joys will continue and get better with age. I know that you will continue to be my baby, long after I can no longer hold you in my arms or on my lap. I hope I’m up for the challenge of being the best mom I can for a baby who is becoming an amazing little boy.

Just don’t grow up too fast.

I love you more than I ever knew I could love.

(A bushel and a peck, forever and a day.)

xoxo,

Mama

  

I know I'm a mom

For real.
I know I'm a mom now that...
I can sing over 30 different verses to The Wheels on the Bus.
Dirty diapers don't phase me.
I know we need to be home by 6 p.m. Sharp.
I spend a considerable portion of my time crawling on the floor.
I wake up at the smallest sound.
1,000 kisses a day doesn't feel like nearly enough.
I cry over spilled breast milk.
On the Day You Were Born chokes me up every time.
I realize I'm still wearing that froggy headband when I look in the mirror.
But I'm not sure how long I've had it on.
I'm sad at 8:00 each morning but start looking forward to 3:30 around noon.
I can watch a video monitor for hours.
I worry a lot more. About a lot more.
I feel my heart swell in my chest every time I think of you.

Not Perfect

When I try to read books to you I get frustrated that you just want to chew on them.
We've resorted to disposable diapers and formula at times.
I can't be home with you the way that I'd like.
You don't get a bath as often as you should.
Your fingernails are getting long and sharp.
You've fallen off a bed... twice.
I let you crawl on dirty floors.
We always talk to strangers.
You've had a black eye.
I let you cry in bed.
I give in, too.
I <3 p="" you.="">