500 Days

This is a not so happy milestone. Today marks the 500th day since we put our house on the market.

500.

That's almost half of Carter's life, and significantly more than Avery's whole life.

That's 500 days of anxiety over what's next, stress/trying to have faith and find peace, being show ready with a toddler and a pregnant mama, a toddler and a newborn, a toddler, a baby and two parents working full time, now we're pretty much at toddler and preschooler. I don't even want to think about how many strangers have been in my home, judging my belongings and decor and probably thinking our very protective dog was going to lunge through the glass door and eat them. A year of a baby sleeping in our room because she's too loud for her brother and he's too loud for her.

I honestly cannot even begin to count how many pieces of paper we've had to read, sign, and return. Probably 200, maybe more. By the time this is all over, we're going to have a lot more grey hairs and some serious carpal tunnel. That is, if it ever ends! Someday, maybe. Some people throw housewarming parties. We'll throw a "thank God we're finally getting the heck out of this house!" party.

12 Months of Avery

Dear Avery,

Today you are one year old. Happy birthday, precious baby girl.

I feel slightly teary as I sit down to write this. I truly cannot believe that it’s already been a year since you were born. On the other hand, I can’t remember what life was like without you.

You are such an incredible blessing. You complete our family just perfectly. When I found out I was pregnant with you, I literally could not breathe. I was overwhelmed, looking at our very full life, the wild 14 month old running around like a madman, the house that seemed to be slowly getting even smaller. I didn’t know how I would do it, how we could juggle all of this. I spent the first 17 weeks of my pregnancy so very sick, throwing up all over the country, sometimes 10, 20, 30 times a day. Then slowly, my excitement grew. I always knew I loved you, and that eventually it would be impossible to imagine like without you, but over the weeks and months, as I began to feel your kicks and hear your heartbeat, I felt the assurance that everything was going to be just fine. I was so excited when I found out you were a girl. Even after four ultrasounds confirming you were a girl, I still was afraid to believe it. We planned for your arrival and sorted through all the logistics and concerns. Then you were born. I loved you so much from that very first moment I saw you (approximately 30 seconds after I started pushing), even in the flurry of commotion that was your birth, I felt like the world stopped when the nurse put you in my arms and you nuzzled into my chest. You didn’t even cry, you had adorable little squeaks and sighs and gazed up at me with such beautiful, wondering eyes.

And here we are, a year later. You are all over the place, taking lots of steps but not quite walking. You are loud and full of zeal. You are independent. Even as you’re learning to walk, you don’t want us to hold your hands, you want to do it all on your own. You are very much a mama’s girl, that was your first word and sometimes you refuse to let anyone else hold you. You follow me around the house like an adorable puppy. You cry the second I leave the room and squeal the moment I come back. You are a charmer of all, but you’re also shy, burying your head in my shoulder as you smile at strangers. You have the loudest, most furious cry! And it’s the same cry for serious times and injuries as it is for things like running out of cheerios. You love dogs (or, as you call them, “gogs!”). You have delightful quirks that crack us up, like chewing on door hinges. You are obsessed with your brother’s toys, especially trains and cars, and ransacking any cupboard you can get your little hands in to. You think your brother is the funniest person ever. As you grow, you’re playing more together and becoming buddies, but you’re not afraid to take a toy back from him and you hold your own with him. You love music, almost as much as you love to dance.

You are tough and independent. I’ve known that all along. You proved that even today. You got sick over the weekend, and aside from some crankier than normal moments, you kept right on going. After a trip to the doctor today, we found out you actually have double ear infections. I knew you had a mind of your own even when I was pregnant, when you hid on the ultrasound and punched and kicked away the sensors. Then when my pregnancy never seemed to end, when I was still very pregnant almost a week late with no sign of the end coming soon, and then when labor was induced and you proceeded to enter the world in the fastest birth ever. I knew it when the lactation consultant called you feisty at six days old. You continued to show that independent streak when you refused to sleep through the night at 11 months, despite our best efforts. I love that about you, especially since you are also so sweet and cuddly (on your own terms, of course).  Although I may really regret saying this, I pray that you continue to embrace that independent side, that you’re always empowered to make your own (hopefully wise) decisions and be whoever you want to be.

We have had a wild year, full of an almost unbelievable assortment of events and every emotion possible. I’m glad I didn’t know everything that was in store for us this year, and even more thankful that we’ve made it through. You have taught me so much, baby girl. You would think I would have learned it all in your brother’s first year of life, but apparently I still had a lot to learn about trust and peace and joy and letting the small things go. I still have a lot to learn, so please be patient and please be kind.

We had a party for your last weekend to celebrate your first birthday, and also, more subtly, to commemorate the fact that we all survived the last year. The theme was rainbows and sunshine, which I chose because it fits you so well. You are full of life and color, and so happy and cheerful. At several points your dad asked me why I was devoting so much time and energy thinking about your party. I think it’s because I want you to have the best of everything in life.

I am so incredibly blessed to be your mother. My heart truly overflows with love for you, my sweet girl. 

Happy birthday, Avery.

So much love,

Mama

Measures of love

Last night, in the middle of dinner, Carter asked how much we love him. We have various answer to this, including as much as the whole sky, SO SO SO much, to the moon and back, etc.

Later, I asked Carter how much he loves me. His answer? 20 pounds.

Voicing his demands

Our dog has been on high alert lately. Really, really, extremely wound up, high alert. I think it's a combination of  re-listing the house, which results in 3 showings in one day, and a brazen little rodent invading out backyard (although I doubt he'll be sticking around after two close encounters with Stella this weekend). She's barking more than normal, and apparently even the littlest ears in our home are less than pleased. The other night we let her outside right after Carter had gone down for bedtime. Over the monitor, we heard a mini drill Sargent:

"Stella! No barking!"

Which was followed by another bark, and then another annoyed command:

"Stella! Do! you! understand! me?? I said... NO! BARKING!"

11 Months of Avery

Dear Avery,

Today you are 11 months old.

I cannot believe there’s only one month left until your first birthday. Time flies when you’re sleep deprived. It’s a good thing you are so cute because we really haven’t slept nearly enough in 11 months. (especially since you’re still sleeping in our room since you wake up your brother). One night last week you woke up at 3am, and there you were, standing up in your pack and play, smacking both hands on the bed and yelling “dada! dada! dada!” with the most adorable smile.  You’ve even spent a few nights this month playing at the wee hours of the night when the rest of us would really like to be sleeping. If you could just start sleeping better, that would be so kind of you.

Your nickname this month is Avery Monster. You are all over the place and into everything. You love all of your brother’s toys. You are obsessed with his trains, his trucks, his books, pretty much anything he’s playing with. We often have to warn him, “Carter, look out, Avery Monster is coming.” Once you reach your destination, you take over and destroy, a little bit like Godzilla. I’m sure you’re just making up for 11 months of your brother stealing your toys from you. I’m actually glad you can hold your own now, even though your brother may feel differently. He doesn’t mind too much though, your brother loves you a whole lot.

A few days before Easter you were really, really sick. You came down with a sinus infection and pink eye and you were teething all at once. You were so miserable and grumpy, but you were better just in time for our festivities. Those were not fun days for anyone, lots of whining and clinging and crying. It was just so sad to watch you so miserable, we were all relieved when you started to perk back up to your normal, cheerful self.

We had a fun Easter this month with a handful of different celebrations. In true Avery Monster fashion, you were absolutely obsessed with everyone else’s Easter eggs. Since they’re not a great toy for a baby, I didn’t give you any of your own. That did not deter you from trying to get to your brother’s stash, or your cousins’, or whatever else you could give your little hands on.

You took your first step last Friday. One, tentative, wobbly, unsupported step! You are so close to walking, but you’re a very proficient crawler so you tend to prefer that instead of even trying to walk. You are talking a lot these days, although we’re not really sure what you’re saying. A few words are more clear, specifically mama, dada, and bye-bye a few times. The past few weeks you’ve been yelling “Gob! Gob! Gob!” really loud, from the back of your throat. It’s so funny to hear such a deep growling from such a tiny, sweet girl. You love to play peek-a-boo, which you have now started initiating on your own. You use a hat or a blanket to cover your face, then laugh when you pull it away and look at us expectantly for our laughter. You are already a little comedian.

You also now know what “no” means and sometimes you listen. It is so funny to watch you pause and spin back around away from the forbidden object. Last weekend you were crawling around the corner to the dog water (of course!) and when I told you no you immediately changed directions and fled back to the playroom like you were surprised you got caught. I’m sure this obedience won’t last long, but it’s more than we ever got from your brother and it’s awfully cute. I’m sure someday very soon we’ll reminiscence about the days you used to listen to us when we told you “no” and you didn’t say it back to us, but for now we’re just embracing every sweet, innocent moment.

Much love,

Mama

Bad Ideas

As Carter continues to learn about the world around him in his own unique way, he often asks us, "Is that a good idea or a bad idea?" 90% of the time he already knows, and 95% of those he knows are bad ideas. So when we hear....

"Is thiiiiis a good idea?!?!" dissolve into high pitched squealing laughter, we don't even have to know what he's talking about to know that it is definitely not a good idea.

Another recent addition is "that's a silly thing!" Sometimes that refers to a truly silly thing, like Stella running crazed laps around the house or Avery chewing on her feet. Most of the time he uses it to describe known bad behavior. Such as:

"I was just sitting in my room and then I just jumped on my bed. That's a silly thing!"

"All my toys dumped on the ground! That's a silly thing!"

"Look! All the water jumped out of the bottle and on to my shirt! That's a silly thing!"

In the Spanish language, fault is typically assigned to the object (i.e. "the keys lost themselves"). Apparently that philosophy also applies to toddler logic.

Ten months of Avery

Dear Avery,

Today you’re 10 months old.

You are a wild girl. Your dad tried to get you dressed this morning, something you were not at all interested in. The best way to describe your movements is like a bucking bronco, squirming and kicking and repeatedly lunging forward just as he was about to put your shirt over your head. Even when you’re asleep you move quite a bit. I actually like that; I can always hear you wiggling around. Especially if it’s been a particularly stressful day or there’s a lot on my mind, it gives me a lot of peace to just listening to you sleeping, the rhythm of your breathing and the sweet little noises you make. Despite all that moving around, you also have the ability to be quite covert when you are getting into trouble. You can make it from the playroom to the dog’s water bowl in about 3 seconds with hardly a sound at all. That stealth is new to me since your brother has a telltale maniacal laugh when he’s doing something he knows is bad. I guess we just need to make an agreement that you’ll never do anything bad.

In addition to always being on the move, those movements are awfully fast. You crawl with intention and speed. One night when your dad was gone, you were playing nicely in the playroom while I was making dinner with your brother. All of the sudden you took off for the kitchen, crawling over stuffed animals and toys and right under the dining room table, dodging chairs and table legs like you had been training your whole life. You never want to miss out on the action. This speed makes it even more challenging that you’re obsessed with the dog’s water bowl. Your brother was as well, but we were able to flip the food bowl over the water to deter him. You figured that out in about 2 seconds. I looked over and you were grinning so sweetly and the food bowl was in your lap, giving you free access to the water bowl. Fortunately we’re still able to catch you before your hands make it in the water. In addition to speed crawling, you’re also cruising along furniture. In the past few days, you’ve started to stand unsupported. After a few contemplative seconds, you usually just plop down and crawl where you want to go, but I know you’re thinking about taking steps.

You still love food, especially puffs. Every night we give you a handful of rice krispies at dinner, usually after you’ve finished your food and we’re trying to finish ours, and the very second they land on your tray you lunge forward with both arms. We have to spread them out to keep you from shoving entire fistfuls into your mouth at one time. You start yelling predictably as soon as they’re gone. On weekday mornings, there’s a lot of hustle and bustle around our house to get out the door. If all goes well, you and your brother get to watch a few minutes of a show while your dad and I pull things together before we head out the door. While you’re contained in your exersaucer, we give you a few puffs or other snacks to munch on. We always know the second they’re gone when we hear you start yelling. You make the funniest noises! There’s been a lot of really loud growling from you lately. I honestly don’t know where you learned it, but it’s hilarious. We are so grateful for all the noise and joy you bring to our lives.

Love,

Mama

Choosing Joy

I'm losing my patience today, or I should say losing what little was left of it. There are a whole string of complaints I could rattle off and list for pages. But I choose joy.

Yesterday was an unexpectedly beautiful day here, clear blue skies and warm sunshine. We spent the afternoon out in the backyard. We set up a ball pit tent, which Avery loved. Carter ran circles around all of us, and over us a few times. The dog oversaw the activities. It's so easy for me to overlook those blessings on days like today when life is generally filled with annoyances, but I'm holding on to that moment. And taking lot of deep breaths!

From the mouths of baby mamas

My dear, sweet, energetic, strong-willed boy has been emphasizing the energetic and strong-willed lately. I keep finding myself saying things that I never imagined coming out of my mouth. Here are some from this weekend:

"Do not lick your sister!"

"Don't throw your bread in the dog's water."
Followed a few minutes later by "No, you cannot eat your bread once it's been in Stella's water bowl."

"Take your slinky out of your cheerios."

Nine Months of Avery

Dear Avery,

Today you are nine months old.

You’ve officially been out in the world as long as long as you were inside getting ready for the world. I am not a woman who adored pregnancy, but there were some amazing and wonderful things I cherished. When I was pregnant, I loved that you went everywhere with me. Even when you were lodged on my sciatic nerve and I could barely walk, I loved when I could feel you wiggling around in there. Your kicks were always reassuring, even in the middle of the night when they kept me from sleeping. Even though it’s a scary time, I felt like I could better protect you. But let me tell you, I adore having you on this side. You add so much joy and light and love to our lives.

This has been a busy month for you. At dinner a few nights ago, your dad even made a comment that you seem like a different baby in the last month. Your personality continues to grow every day and we love getting to see more of who you are. You are also learning so much every day. You’re now pulling yourself up on everything! You’re also starting to shuffle your feet while you’re holding on to the table or the couch and take a few tentative steps while we hold on to your hands. I’m pretty sure you’re going to be walking earlier than your brother was crawling.

You are so full of joy. Your smile lights up the whole room. You’re still such a charmer, snuggling close but smiling at strangers. You’re happy 90% of the time. That other 10%... well, let's say you've got enough spunk to hold your own around here. You laugh often, but you smile all the time. We love you so much baby girl, I just can’t even imagine our life without you. 

We’ve all been sick a lot this month. Between two kids and two parents, we seem to just pass everything around. You’re such a trooper, even when you’re totally miserable. You are NOT thrilled when you can’t have your pacifier, though. A few times you’ve been so stuffed up you couldn’t use it, and even though you don’t seem to care about your pacifier much, the fact that you couldn’t have it was just not okay with you! You spent a lot of nights sleeping on me and your dad this month. It’s not the best long term strategy, but it’s also a sweet time. We know it won't be long before the days of you curled up on our chests is only a memory, so we are cherishing it while we can.  

Much love,

Mama