My dearest Maddy,
Once again, your mom (I am now mom, not mommy, momma, mama. Mom) forgot to write. AGAIN! I blame life. And that if I don't write it down I cannot for the life of me remember. Like, at all. So I have added it as an appointment to my calendar. Will that guarantee I get it right from now on? Hells to the no. But it does mean I am really really trying. And I think that is the biggest lesson I am learning about being a mom. I won't always get it right, I'll sometimes get it horribly wrong. But I am always always ALWAYS trying.
Always.
And you are always so much a 2 year old. One second overjoyed and laughing and smiling and the next tragically upset because I won't stop cooking dinner so that you can go play upstairs. Or downstairs. Or eat 3 apples at once. Or... anything.
Twenty-seven months. I just counted. Two and one-quarter years old. I have been saying almost two and a half. It's easier (and a little more indicative of your developmental age). You continue to soak up knowledge and words at an amazing rate. You are always putting ideas together, looking for relationships and ways that the new information fits into your existing knowledge base. You still LOVE music and singing. Now you love demanding of us, when we sing, "FASTER!" or "LOUDER!" and the newest "QUIETER!". You love Super Why and Wiggles and Bubble Guppies on TV. We have also graduated to movies - Winnie the Pooh and Tangled (aka ra-PUM-zel). We'll add more when we can PVR them off Movie Central.
I have also started giving you my (now ancient) smartphone, with games and apps on it. You are starting to even get the idea, and request a few over and over. And then coat my phone is a surprisingly tenacious coating of... toddler. Even if I clean your hands before there is just... toddler... all over everything. You like the one where you create and pop balloons and make animals make noise (and robots and instruments). There apps are "baby" apps, but we're starting you off slowly with the tech stuffs.
However, this week we bought a tablet. Initially it was more for you, to play on and amuse yourself. And now your dad (not dada or daddy. Dad.) has adopted it as his own and is having fun with it. Although we are also loading it with games and apps and movies for our impending trip.
What trip? Our first road trip! Well, second really. But you were 5 months old the first time. Wait - third. You were 13 months the second one. And now this one. Third, for certain. This time we're going to Jasper. Deets to come, after we return. I am starting frantic planning mode and have arranged for driving over nap times and meals in the hotel and a possible pack and play if you won't sleep in the bed and outdoor and indoor activities we can do with you. And with a dido that is on crutches and in a cast from a surgery 9-ish weeks ago. And the dog.
Oy.
Panic.
SO MUCH PLANNING TO DO BEFORE WE GO!
Luckily there is time.
I just hope you have some fun and bring more of your happy-mood, and less of your grumpy-mood. And that you don't fall off a mountain. Or into a lake. Or get eaten by a bear. Those dangers ever present in the wilds of a national park.
Happy 27 months (plus 6 days) my sweetest, most perfectly nunu-like Nunu ever.
I love you,
Mom.
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
I need some record...
I need some record of this time. Something to remind me how wonderful and yet insanity-inducing our dear Madder can be.
Maddy is a toddler. Oh, such a toddler!!
In one breath she loses her marbles when she accidentally drops her bowl of goldfish, raisins and ta-lee-shew (her name for yogurt covered raisins - no CLUE how that can about) but then laughs manically when she throws said bowl intentionally.
She'll yell at Walter to go away if he hovers near her, as she almost drops food but then will lay with him on the floor in the sunlight laughing in joy. And we have video of that! Although Neil is behind me in the video cursing his phone (which kind of makes it wrong to post that video on the blog...).
Every day there is a new food that is loved (and 5 more that are now hated). This changes daily, making meal planning OH SO fun. Every toy with multiple little pieces (Mr Potato head or leggo, for example) must be opened simultaneously, so there is full coverage of toys on the living room floor. And with no area rug anymore, this also ensure that multiple times a day Maddy (or us) go slip-sliding on SOMETHING and either fall (Maddy) or get imprints on the bottoms of our feet (us).
Meltdowns. Oh the MELTDOWNS. Larger and louder than life, completely uncontrolled. Maddy screams and flails and slams her heels to the floor and wails. It's a sight... It's frightening and aggravating and exhausting all at once. It's obvious there is no control or choice anymore - she's just UPSET. Neil is amazing at diverting her from that state. Me? Not as good.
One day, Maddy had a meltdown in front of my parents. It scarred them (and scared them). Mom is now concerned there is something wrong (there is not) and is always just a little fearful that Maddy will lose it again, when they are alone together. Easter dinner, at Maddy's godmother's, was spent with Neil and I hovering over her, trying to prevent a meltdown that had been looming for hours. And while we made it through dinner (as one of us played outside with a Maddy that refused to go back into the house and the other ate, switching off) we did not make it to the end of the evening. Right after dinner, before dessert, we had to run off. I grabbed the kid and wrestled her into her carseat as Neil collected everything strewn everywhere.
The boundary pushing, already! If you tell her not to touch something, her little finger will hover over the item, gently moving up and down until there is a touch. And another reprimand. And another bit of hovering just to see what happens next.
She knows what she wants. What she wants to watch on TV. Or the 'puter. Which episode of which show. And cannot understand at all if something can't be brought up (the joys of raising a child in today's age... I remember a time with just 3 channels and... I digress...). She wants blue socks, not pink. And pink shoes, not green. She wants her tutu (aka ballerina) and the BLUE dora pjs. Not green pjs. She wants cereal and toast with p-butter and jam for breakfast. Not eggs. She wants my-nana, not oranges.
She is certain.
But she is capable of such funny stories and snuggles and kisses and giggles that make it all worth it. She is so smart and funny and astute already.
She is a toddler.
She is also great birth control, because I can't imagine that I could eve have the patience to go through this all again with Maddy already here. Plus, my mom informed me I am "way too old" to have a second.
Thanks Mom.
And thanks, Maddy, for being the wonderful and amazing toddler that you are.
Maddy is a toddler. Oh, such a toddler!!
In one breath she loses her marbles when she accidentally drops her bowl of goldfish, raisins and ta-lee-shew (her name for yogurt covered raisins - no CLUE how that can about) but then laughs manically when she throws said bowl intentionally.
She'll yell at Walter to go away if he hovers near her, as she almost drops food but then will lay with him on the floor in the sunlight laughing in joy. And we have video of that! Although Neil is behind me in the video cursing his phone (which kind of makes it wrong to post that video on the blog...).
Every day there is a new food that is loved (and 5 more that are now hated). This changes daily, making meal planning OH SO fun. Every toy with multiple little pieces (Mr Potato head or leggo, for example) must be opened simultaneously, so there is full coverage of toys on the living room floor. And with no area rug anymore, this also ensure that multiple times a day Maddy (or us) go slip-sliding on SOMETHING and either fall (Maddy) or get imprints on the bottoms of our feet (us).
Meltdowns. Oh the MELTDOWNS. Larger and louder than life, completely uncontrolled. Maddy screams and flails and slams her heels to the floor and wails. It's a sight... It's frightening and aggravating and exhausting all at once. It's obvious there is no control or choice anymore - she's just UPSET. Neil is amazing at diverting her from that state. Me? Not as good.
One day, Maddy had a meltdown in front of my parents. It scarred them (and scared them). Mom is now concerned there is something wrong (there is not) and is always just a little fearful that Maddy will lose it again, when they are alone together. Easter dinner, at Maddy's godmother's, was spent with Neil and I hovering over her, trying to prevent a meltdown that had been looming for hours. And while we made it through dinner (as one of us played outside with a Maddy that refused to go back into the house and the other ate, switching off) we did not make it to the end of the evening. Right after dinner, before dessert, we had to run off. I grabbed the kid and wrestled her into her carseat as Neil collected everything strewn everywhere.
The boundary pushing, already! If you tell her not to touch something, her little finger will hover over the item, gently moving up and down until there is a touch. And another reprimand. And another bit of hovering just to see what happens next.
She knows what she wants. What she wants to watch on TV. Or the 'puter. Which episode of which show. And cannot understand at all if something can't be brought up (the joys of raising a child in today's age... I remember a time with just 3 channels and... I digress...). She wants blue socks, not pink. And pink shoes, not green. She wants her tutu (aka ballerina) and the BLUE dora pjs. Not green pjs. She wants cereal and toast with p-butter and jam for breakfast. Not eggs. She wants my-nana, not oranges.
She is certain.
But she is capable of such funny stories and snuggles and kisses and giggles that make it all worth it. She is so smart and funny and astute already.
She is a toddler.
She is also great birth control, because I can't imagine that I could eve have the patience to go through this all again with Maddy already here. Plus, my mom informed me I am "way too old" to have a second.
Thanks Mom.
And thanks, Maddy, for being the wonderful and amazing toddler that you are.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
From five to four...
How to write this? Where to start?
March 6th Sherman, our first and most obnoxiously loving and high strung and determined and crazy puppy, got sick. He threw up about 15 times, mostly all over our area rug (which has since been disposed of). The next day he was in the vet, and they thought it was a virus. By Monday March 12 he was no better and we were back to the vet. Blood tests were taken and an infection was found and we started treating that. And Sherman was doing so well. He was eating (small amounts) again and happy and loving. But once the antiobiotics were done, he started getting worse again. On March 29th we went back to the vet and had blood and urine and an ultrasound done. And they found foreign objects in his stomach and surgery was booked the next day at another clinic. We had this diagnosed and we had a plan.
And then it all fell apart.
Friday morning the vet opened Shermo up and found the foreign objects (thought to be beads) were just undigested chick peas. The problem was in his small intestines. There was an obstruction and it caused the small intestine to go necrotic.
Backtracking, Sherman has ALWAYS been an exuberant chewer. Pearls, walls, cabinets, baseboards, mouth splint, undies, kleenex, paper, toilet paper, the toilet paper holder, Neil's rug from Morocco, the frame of Neil's BA, rose bush branches with thorns, an entire couch (well, loveseat)... the list goes on. Sherman felt anything was fair game to chew. He also felt that toys were only given to him as a challenge - to see how long it toook him to tear it all apart. One toy, a green dino cuz rubber toy, had been in the rotation for a few years. It was missing pieces, but doing ok. Sometime in the last few months Sherman must have chewed off a chunk and swallowed it. This time it didn't just pass through.
By the time it was removed it had expanded to many times it's original thickness. And it was stuck. There were small abrasions leading up to the piece, where it managed to squish through his intestines and did some damage (which was being fixed by the antibiotics).
The vet removed a large section of Sherm's intestine and reconnected the healthy parts. We were given warnings about it taking 72 hours for confirmation that the edges would reconnect. And if it didn't reconnect there was the chance of hemorrhaging. And that some bile went into his throat and may have caused scarring but they treated that. They said he should be ok.
That afternoon I went and saw him for about 20 minutes. He was so so so out of it, drugged to prevent him from moving and opening the incision. I petted him and kissed his floppy jowls and promised him he'd be ok. We fixed this. And he'd be coming home tomorrow. And then life took hold of me and I left to get dinner and do all those things I "needed" to do.
At about 730pm the phone rang. It was the vet. Sherman had stopped breathing.
I panicked. I screamed for Neil, downstairs, and passed the phone to him. And I crumpled to the floor and cried. Bawled. My Sherman...
It's all a blur, but Neil talked to the vet. They said if they couldn't get him breathing on his own soon, the prognosis was very poor. And they couldn't.
And he died.
On Saturday we went and paid the vet (just materials, she donated her time) and the cremation and picked out the box he'll come home in... and then spent a lot of time crying and trying to fill the absolute silence he left. Even with a toddler our house feels empty.
Sherman was such a special dog. He lived life to the fullest and was so happy and strong and loving. Oh so loving! So much licking from a smelly, smelly mouth loving. He was into everything and loved everyone. He always believed he knew what was needed (many kisses). He never stayed still, he never slept until he was sure he wouldn't miss anything (which meant being kenneled). He was willing to chew anything. And annoy his brother in any way possible. He was an anxious and high strung dog too, and we knew it aged him. But he lived life completely and loved with abandon and never held a grudge. And we had plans for many many more years of play and kisses and happiness...
The vet thinks that his body went into shock from the surgery and the extent of his injuries. She assures us that he didn't suffer. And it helps me to know that he wasn't alone. He didn't die alone... there were people with him who in the short time they knew him already loved him. That, I think, is what makes it almost bearable. Almost.
We love you Sherman. And we miss you so much... It wasn't supposed to end this way. And yet it has.
And now we have to figure out life as four.
March 6th Sherman, our first and most obnoxiously loving and high strung and determined and crazy puppy, got sick. He threw up about 15 times, mostly all over our area rug (which has since been disposed of). The next day he was in the vet, and they thought it was a virus. By Monday March 12 he was no better and we were back to the vet. Blood tests were taken and an infection was found and we started treating that. And Sherman was doing so well. He was eating (small amounts) again and happy and loving. But once the antiobiotics were done, he started getting worse again. On March 29th we went back to the vet and had blood and urine and an ultrasound done. And they found foreign objects in his stomach and surgery was booked the next day at another clinic. We had this diagnosed and we had a plan.
And then it all fell apart.
Friday morning the vet opened Shermo up and found the foreign objects (thought to be beads) were just undigested chick peas. The problem was in his small intestines. There was an obstruction and it caused the small intestine to go necrotic.
Backtracking, Sherman has ALWAYS been an exuberant chewer. Pearls, walls, cabinets, baseboards, mouth splint, undies, kleenex, paper, toilet paper, the toilet paper holder, Neil's rug from Morocco, the frame of Neil's BA, rose bush branches with thorns, an entire couch (well, loveseat)... the list goes on. Sherman felt anything was fair game to chew. He also felt that toys were only given to him as a challenge - to see how long it toook him to tear it all apart. One toy, a green dino cuz rubber toy, had been in the rotation for a few years. It was missing pieces, but doing ok. Sometime in the last few months Sherman must have chewed off a chunk and swallowed it. This time it didn't just pass through.
By the time it was removed it had expanded to many times it's original thickness. And it was stuck. There were small abrasions leading up to the piece, where it managed to squish through his intestines and did some damage (which was being fixed by the antibiotics).
The vet removed a large section of Sherm's intestine and reconnected the healthy parts. We were given warnings about it taking 72 hours for confirmation that the edges would reconnect. And if it didn't reconnect there was the chance of hemorrhaging. And that some bile went into his throat and may have caused scarring but they treated that. They said he should be ok.
That afternoon I went and saw him for about 20 minutes. He was so so so out of it, drugged to prevent him from moving and opening the incision. I petted him and kissed his floppy jowls and promised him he'd be ok. We fixed this. And he'd be coming home tomorrow. And then life took hold of me and I left to get dinner and do all those things I "needed" to do.
At about 730pm the phone rang. It was the vet. Sherman had stopped breathing.
I panicked. I screamed for Neil, downstairs, and passed the phone to him. And I crumpled to the floor and cried. Bawled. My Sherman...
It's all a blur, but Neil talked to the vet. They said if they couldn't get him breathing on his own soon, the prognosis was very poor. And they couldn't.
And he died.
On Saturday we went and paid the vet (just materials, she donated her time) and the cremation and picked out the box he'll come home in... and then spent a lot of time crying and trying to fill the absolute silence he left. Even with a toddler our house feels empty.
Sherman was such a special dog. He lived life to the fullest and was so happy and strong and loving. Oh so loving! So much licking from a smelly, smelly mouth loving. He was into everything and loved everyone. He always believed he knew what was needed (many kisses). He never stayed still, he never slept until he was sure he wouldn't miss anything (which meant being kenneled). He was willing to chew anything. And annoy his brother in any way possible. He was an anxious and high strung dog too, and we knew it aged him. But he lived life completely and loved with abandon and never held a grudge. And we had plans for many many more years of play and kisses and happiness...
The vet thinks that his body went into shock from the surgery and the extent of his injuries. She assures us that he didn't suffer. And it helps me to know that he wasn't alone. He didn't die alone... there were people with him who in the short time they knew him already loved him. That, I think, is what makes it almost bearable. Almost.
We love you Sherman. And we miss you so much... It wasn't supposed to end this way. And yet it has.
And now we have to figure out life as four.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Month Twenty-Six Letter
My Maddy,
It seems the only time I write is on your month-day. Or the day after your month-day, in this instance. I am not sure why I have stopped blogging... Lack of time? Excess laziness? An addiction to Pinterest? Trying to do it all and something invariably falling to the wayside?
Anyway, you are twenty-six months old and a force of nature! You live big and certain. And loud. Oh Maddy, you are capable of great noise. GREAT noise. You have at least one super duper meltdown a day. Sometimes more... You know what you want (or don't want) and you aren't scared to let us know. You also, just like your dad, have blood sugar issues. If you haven't eaten in awhile (like after a long nap or in the morning) you aren't too good with the unexpected. Or if we deny you something you want. Or we can't give you that exact thing you want. Or.. just because. When it happens, it's force of nature LOUD though.
You also hate baths. HATE. BATHS. We can get you in the tub every few days, if we're lucky. Why? Who knows! It's just your thing right now. And I know, you will have things and phases and they won't last. This one is a tad smelly though... Such a force of nature.
Another current Maddy-ism is your inability to sleep through the night. You wake at LEAST once, normally a few times, and one of us has to go down and find Odg, or Mimi, or sock, or PIN-SESS, or ... something. And often it's me. And I am just a little exhausted from not sleeping through the night once in weeks. And your dad is in the same boat. Last night you woke at 4am and it took 20 minutes (of you whimpering) until you would lay down again. And then you refused to be covered. You are a force of nature.
Fruit is the one thing you will almost always eat. Although typing that has almost certainly guaranteed that you will never touch a piece of fruit again. You also love "DEEP" which is almost any sauce. And a few veggies, like peas and corn and carrots (sometimes). And broccoli most of the time. It's a challenge, because I am loving trying new recipes. And you like the same things over and over. We always have fruit to supplement dinners. Force. Of. Nature.
You are turning into a girly girl. Princess and pretty and pink and purple. I bought you beautiful green and teal shoes and you SCREAMED when they came even near you. I exchanged them for the pink and purple shoes? You called them "PEETY" and wore them all day. Nature? Force of. Maddy.
Right now I can hear you, making noise in your bed an hour after your bedtime. You are singing and talking to your NUMEROUS teddies you insist on sleeping with. Odg, brown mimi, pink mimi, Farley, Gramma piggy, and Kee-Kat. And then a few extra each night, right now it's Snow White, Cinderella, Piglet and Winnie the Pooh. Remember, you are in a wee and tiny toddler bed.
Well, Madds, I have to work on our taxes and have a bath and do the dishes and make lunches and fold your laundry. And I want to be in bed in 1.5 hours. Maybe even before you'll settle down?
Force of nature, my love. Force of nature.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
I love you Maddy,
--mommy
It seems the only time I write is on your month-day. Or the day after your month-day, in this instance. I am not sure why I have stopped blogging... Lack of time? Excess laziness? An addiction to Pinterest? Trying to do it all and something invariably falling to the wayside?
Anyway, you are twenty-six months old and a force of nature! You live big and certain. And loud. Oh Maddy, you are capable of great noise. GREAT noise. You have at least one super duper meltdown a day. Sometimes more... You know what you want (or don't want) and you aren't scared to let us know. You also, just like your dad, have blood sugar issues. If you haven't eaten in awhile (like after a long nap or in the morning) you aren't too good with the unexpected. Or if we deny you something you want. Or we can't give you that exact thing you want. Or.. just because. When it happens, it's force of nature LOUD though.
You also hate baths. HATE. BATHS. We can get you in the tub every few days, if we're lucky. Why? Who knows! It's just your thing right now. And I know, you will have things and phases and they won't last. This one is a tad smelly though... Such a force of nature.
Another current Maddy-ism is your inability to sleep through the night. You wake at LEAST once, normally a few times, and one of us has to go down and find Odg, or Mimi, or sock, or PIN-SESS, or ... something. And often it's me. And I am just a little exhausted from not sleeping through the night once in weeks. And your dad is in the same boat. Last night you woke at 4am and it took 20 minutes (of you whimpering) until you would lay down again. And then you refused to be covered. You are a force of nature.
Fruit is the one thing you will almost always eat. Although typing that has almost certainly guaranteed that you will never touch a piece of fruit again. You also love "DEEP" which is almost any sauce. And a few veggies, like peas and corn and carrots (sometimes). And broccoli most of the time. It's a challenge, because I am loving trying new recipes. And you like the same things over and over. We always have fruit to supplement dinners. Force. Of. Nature.
You are turning into a girly girl. Princess and pretty and pink and purple. I bought you beautiful green and teal shoes and you SCREAMED when they came even near you. I exchanged them for the pink and purple shoes? You called them "PEETY" and wore them all day. Nature? Force of. Maddy.
Right now I can hear you, making noise in your bed an hour after your bedtime. You are singing and talking to your NUMEROUS teddies you insist on sleeping with. Odg, brown mimi, pink mimi, Farley, Gramma piggy, and Kee-Kat. And then a few extra each night, right now it's Snow White, Cinderella, Piglet and Winnie the Pooh. Remember, you are in a wee and tiny toddler bed.
Well, Madds, I have to work on our taxes and have a bath and do the dishes and make lunches and fold your laundry. And I want to be in bed in 1.5 hours. Maybe even before you'll settle down?
Force of nature, my love. Force of nature.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.
I love you Maddy,
--mommy
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Month Twenty-Five Letter
My Madster,
Today you are 25 months old. And you are WELL into the terrible of the terrible twos. Today wasn't so bad, but your determined nature plus teething plus amazingly loud lungs equals really crazy loud meltdowns. Frequently. Well, daily. And they are so hard to see, as your mom. The normal frustrated tantrums are fine. It's our job to set boundaries, it's your job to find them and push at them. But when a tantrum spirals into that place where you forget why you are upset and are just awash in the sadness and anger and fear... that breaks my heart. I hold you, rock you, lose hearing and hope that the meltdown ends soon. As my tears fall.
But the rest of the time? YOU ARE FREAKING AWESOME. You are so smart and funny and responsive and engaged. You LOVE to sit with us and watch videos on the computer. You randomly call out requests. Funny-man. Squirrel song. SQUARE. One-two-three. Fire truck. And we find that video. Much of the time you do ask for things we know. Wiggles. Max and Ruby. Diego. Little People. DOODLEBOPPSSS (emphasis on the last syllable). Wow, the Doodlebops are a much loved show right now. I was quite sad to know that they are no longer together, and we'll never be able to take you to a concert. We are going to take you to gymnastics though. Your first extracurricular activity! Today some friends asked us what activities we hope you'll one day get involved in. And our first response was "whatever she wants". Then? Well, singing and music and soccer and dance and brownies and... Well, whatever you want.
What if you want a programming class? Maybe you maybe are too electronically engaged. But your parents are geeks, we are on our computers and you see and want to join us. It's going to be interesting to balance the general philosophy of no screen time being best for kids against our lifestyle. But we'll figure it out, as a family. As a strong and committed and loving family.
Maddy, Madster, Nunu, Mad-delicious, my love... Happy 25 months! And I look forward to decades upon decades more months to celebrate the amazing you are.
Lots of love,
Mommy
Today you are 25 months old. And you are WELL into the terrible of the terrible twos. Today wasn't so bad, but your determined nature plus teething plus amazingly loud lungs equals really crazy loud meltdowns. Frequently. Well, daily. And they are so hard to see, as your mom. The normal frustrated tantrums are fine. It's our job to set boundaries, it's your job to find them and push at them. But when a tantrum spirals into that place where you forget why you are upset and are just awash in the sadness and anger and fear... that breaks my heart. I hold you, rock you, lose hearing and hope that the meltdown ends soon. As my tears fall.
But the rest of the time? YOU ARE FREAKING AWESOME. You are so smart and funny and responsive and engaged. You LOVE to sit with us and watch videos on the computer. You randomly call out requests. Funny-man. Squirrel song. SQUARE. One-two-three. Fire truck. And we find that video. Much of the time you do ask for things we know. Wiggles. Max and Ruby. Diego. Little People. DOODLEBOPPSSS (emphasis on the last syllable). Wow, the Doodlebops are a much loved show right now. I was quite sad to know that they are no longer together, and we'll never be able to take you to a concert. We are going to take you to gymnastics though. Your first extracurricular activity! Today some friends asked us what activities we hope you'll one day get involved in. And our first response was "whatever she wants". Then? Well, singing and music and soccer and dance and brownies and... Well, whatever you want.
What if you want a programming class? Maybe you maybe are too electronically engaged. But your parents are geeks, we are on our computers and you see and want to join us. It's going to be interesting to balance the general philosophy of no screen time being best for kids against our lifestyle. But we'll figure it out, as a family. As a strong and committed and loving family.
Maddy, Madster, Nunu, Mad-delicious, my love... Happy 25 months! And I look forward to decades upon decades more months to celebrate the amazing you are.
Lots of love,
Mommy
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Month Twenty Four Letter. Waaaay late.
Dearest Maddy,
Days ago you turned TWO YEARS OLD. And your mommy didn't actually even remember to post a letter on this very very neglected blog. I blame... pinterest? Facebook? Getting things done around the house? Really, I blame me and me dealing poorly with some stress. Life threw me a lemon and I sat in the sandbox feeling sorry for myself. Screw the lemonade!
But, Maddy, my love. You are TWENTY FOUR months old (plus a few days). And you are awesome. You are talking up a STORM and so funny and so active and so happy. Tonight we stripped you down before your bath and you RAN. In and out of every room, naked to the world. And screaming "GLIDE GLIDE GLIDE" in a very loud and boisterous manner. I had to finally grab you and throw you in the tub, which resulted in the start of a meltdown (naked running is apparently fun) but the toys distracted you and you happily played. You know what you want in life and you let us know when it's not happening your way.
At 2 you are 34.5 inches tall. You are about 32 pounds (ish). Your hair is still dark blonde, your eyes are still a beautiful blue. You smile so often and we've had a bit of a break with the teething (still at 16). You are a talker and you have started on 3-4 word sentences, with prepositions and all! Your grammar isn't ideal but your manners? Please, thank you, you're welcome, excuse me... you us them all! Well, excuse me is more like KYOOUSE me. But close enough!
You are playing with us now, and playing house and pretend. Other kids? Not as much with them yet. You play near them. But will stand on furniture and other dangerous things to get our attention, so we'll interact with you. And we have FUN! We KEECK DA BALL. And KEETCH. And RUN. And play houses and dolly. And pretend to eat foods. And sing. And do so many, many awesome things.
How did we celebrate your night? Well, it was the last year we could phone it in... So we did. We woke you in the morning, to sing you happy birthday. Which you shushed and then threw yourself on your bed oh so dramatically when we didn't stop. And you opened a few gifts! A "ball-reeena" skirt and a book. Then daycare and MUFFIN-MAN there (aka cupcakes). And dinner at Swiss Chalet with baba and dido and us. And then more gifts and bed! Saturday we took you to Telus World of Science where you played and ran and played and explored and played and experimented. And then a Thai meal and a good night's sleep.
Sleep. You are still pretty good at going to bed. And you don't really get out of bed unless one of us is in the room. But? You keep waking (and waking me) to have your socks put on again, if they come off, or if Odg goes missing. I am getting good and quickly stumbling down the stairs and finding socks in your sheets or Odg on the floor. In the dark. Did I mention I was sleeping when you cried out?
Oh Maddy, you are awesome. You are kind (you let the greedy kids take toys from you, you just look sad and confused) but you are no push over (if a kid smacks you? You smack them right back). You are so observant and so verbal and so astute. So often your dad and I are scrambling to see what it is you are seeing. (Elmo? Where? There is no... wait. There. Hai Elmo!). You put things together so quickly. You have never called every 4 legged animal a puppy. You know their names, you can recognize what they are (even when they are abstract caricatures of the animal). You are independent (like most toddlers) but really only with the things you can do. Yo don't demand to dress yourself but you will insist on brushing your teeth yourself, after I do. You are the most amazing daughter and we are so lucky to be your parents, to get to raise you and watch you grow.
I love you, my twenty month old Maddy. I'll love you endlessly and forever. Even when you become a teenager *grin*
Love always,
Mommy
Days ago you turned TWO YEARS OLD. And your mommy didn't actually even remember to post a letter on this very very neglected blog. I blame... pinterest? Facebook? Getting things done around the house? Really, I blame me and me dealing poorly with some stress. Life threw me a lemon and I sat in the sandbox feeling sorry for myself. Screw the lemonade!
But, Maddy, my love. You are TWENTY FOUR months old (plus a few days). And you are awesome. You are talking up a STORM and so funny and so active and so happy. Tonight we stripped you down before your bath and you RAN. In and out of every room, naked to the world. And screaming "GLIDE GLIDE GLIDE" in a very loud and boisterous manner. I had to finally grab you and throw you in the tub, which resulted in the start of a meltdown (naked running is apparently fun) but the toys distracted you and you happily played. You know what you want in life and you let us know when it's not happening your way.
At 2 you are 34.5 inches tall. You are about 32 pounds (ish). Your hair is still dark blonde, your eyes are still a beautiful blue. You smile so often and we've had a bit of a break with the teething (still at 16). You are a talker and you have started on 3-4 word sentences, with prepositions and all! Your grammar isn't ideal but your manners? Please, thank you, you're welcome, excuse me... you us them all! Well, excuse me is more like KYOOUSE me. But close enough!
You are playing with us now, and playing house and pretend. Other kids? Not as much with them yet. You play near them. But will stand on furniture and other dangerous things to get our attention, so we'll interact with you. And we have FUN! We KEECK DA BALL. And KEETCH. And RUN. And play houses and dolly. And pretend to eat foods. And sing. And do so many, many awesome things.
How did we celebrate your night? Well, it was the last year we could phone it in... So we did. We woke you in the morning, to sing you happy birthday. Which you shushed and then threw yourself on your bed oh so dramatically when we didn't stop. And you opened a few gifts! A "ball-reeena" skirt and a book. Then daycare and MUFFIN-MAN there (aka cupcakes). And dinner at Swiss Chalet with baba and dido and us. And then more gifts and bed! Saturday we took you to Telus World of Science where you played and ran and played and explored and played and experimented. And then a Thai meal and a good night's sleep.
Sleep. You are still pretty good at going to bed. And you don't really get out of bed unless one of us is in the room. But? You keep waking (and waking me) to have your socks put on again, if they come off, or if Odg goes missing. I am getting good and quickly stumbling down the stairs and finding socks in your sheets or Odg on the floor. In the dark. Did I mention I was sleeping when you cried out?
Oh Maddy, you are awesome. You are kind (you let the greedy kids take toys from you, you just look sad and confused) but you are no push over (if a kid smacks you? You smack them right back). You are so observant and so verbal and so astute. So often your dad and I are scrambling to see what it is you are seeing. (Elmo? Where? There is no... wait. There. Hai Elmo!). You put things together so quickly. You have never called every 4 legged animal a puppy. You know their names, you can recognize what they are (even when they are abstract caricatures of the animal). You are independent (like most toddlers) but really only with the things you can do. Yo don't demand to dress yourself but you will insist on brushing your teeth yourself, after I do. You are the most amazing daughter and we are so lucky to be your parents, to get to raise you and watch you grow.
I love you, my twenty month old Maddy. I'll love you endlessly and forever. Even when you become a teenager *grin*
Love always,
Mommy
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Holidays 2011/12
Pictures to come, but we did it! We made it through Christmas morning 2011 with nary a tear or paper cut. My parents came over and we exchanged gifts, watched Maddy open everything (so so much everything!) and we all got spoiled ourselves. Then mom and I made brunch and we ate hootenanny (so much fun to say) and bacon and fresh lemon curd and fruit. And then we listened to an overtired (and over excited and over sugared and overwhelmed) Maddy sing in her crib (instead of nap). She sang for nearly 2 HOURS after being put to be there. Then napped a bit and then woke in an off mood. This was a sign... Ooh! My first foreshadowing!
The night we went to my aunt and uncles and ate and ate and chased Maddy and ate. And we barely made it out before Maddy's bedtime (to a chorus of "Stay just a few more minutes! We need to ____" *insert things family here*). Maddy was great there, except for the wee meltdown at being forced to leave the fun new place.
December 26th brought us to some friends' place and more eating and visiting and chasing Maddy, this time with new and interesting people to meet. And a family friendly/kids welcome environment. Once more, Maddy did well except for the meltdown (again) as we were leaving. She started and the hostess asked "Whose children are crying?" Neil answered - "Mine." She started to look to see what other kids were crying - was it her daughter? And no. It was just Maddy, wailing at the decibel of a group of toddlers.
Between Christmas and New Years there was some illness, some cleaning/re-organizing and much staying home. And many delayed naps and crib-singing. However, the monumentous event was the delivery of Maddy's very first no-rails TODDLER BED. There was an aborted attempt to assemble it on Thursday December 29th but instead it was assembled on December 31st, while baba and dido took a kiddo out. And that night, with the crib shoved in the corner of her room, Maddy was ushered into her bed. A bed she was able to usher herself out of.
I think the outing/running around at the rec centre exhausted Maddy enough that she was pretty much out. That left baba & dido and Neil & I to sit around and polish off a bottle of non-alcoholic wine, eat too many chips coated in Helluva Good Dip and play cards. At about 10pm I had to check on Maddy. Had to see where she ended up. I have heard stories of kids falling asleep against the door of their room or in the closet or in the corner... I tiptoed in and found that stuffies had taken over her bed, namely a HUGE pink bear (about her size now) plus his friends. And I could not see Maddy. My heart jumped into my throat and I was about to start searching when I looked closer and saw... Maddy? Under the bears? I pulled off big pink bear and there she was, nestled under the toys (and not under her quilt). Teddies removed, blanket placed over her and she was out until 730am the next day! Night 1 of toddler bed was a complete success!
January 1st, nap one of the toddler bed. Naps that have been starting with up to HOURS of singing/playing. And? She did awesome. I asked her if she wanted a nap and she grabbed Odg and was crawling into bed. And hour later she awoke and we scored another victory! That night it was, again, easy to get her in. And Neil and I settled onto our respective couches and nosed around on our computers. And at about 10pm we heard "THUNK" and silence. We looked at each other and RAN to Maddy's room just as the cries started. The three of us sat on the floor, holding each other and trying to calm a crying Maddy. She just kept saying "Fall DOWN. Fall DOWN". Neil asked where it hurt and she pointed to her bed. And then crawled off our laps and into her bed, grabbed Odg and snuggled in. And fell back asleep. She was over it. We were still shell-shocked.
But another good night and we're on January 2nd 2012. After a relaxing morning we asked Maddy if she wanted her nap. She said "NYO!". We still ushered her in bed and Neil went to his computer and I went to our bed to finish my book (the Hunger Games trilogy? Amazing! Could not put it down.) Neil came upstaris and was talking on the phone as I read and listened to Maddy on the baby monitor. I listened to her talk and play. And... walk? And... a click? Click?! The door. I ran downstairs and found a smiling Maddy walking out of her room. Any attempts to restart her nap was answered with a firm "NYO!" So? We skipped her nap.
Skipped her NAP.
I was expecting a wailing melt-down of a child when we did a few errands. Nope. She was great. At dinner? She was happy. After dinner...? Just fine. A bath and bed a bit early and she was immediately asleep. I asked the all-knowing Facebook and my friends responded that some kids are ready to miss some (maybe not all) naps by age 2-ish. Maddy's age. Oy.
This holiday break was filled with fun and family and food. And a Maddy that is no longer my swaddled infant but a little girl in her toddler bed who many not need naps and is pretending as she plays and talking up a storm. My beautiful girl, baby no more.
The night we went to my aunt and uncles and ate and ate and chased Maddy and ate. And we barely made it out before Maddy's bedtime (to a chorus of "Stay just a few more minutes! We need to ____" *insert things family here*). Maddy was great there, except for the wee meltdown at being forced to leave the fun new place.
December 26th brought us to some friends' place and more eating and visiting and chasing Maddy, this time with new and interesting people to meet. And a family friendly/kids welcome environment. Once more, Maddy did well except for the meltdown (again) as we were leaving. She started and the hostess asked "Whose children are crying?" Neil answered - "Mine." She started to look to see what other kids were crying - was it her daughter? And no. It was just Maddy, wailing at the decibel of a group of toddlers.
Between Christmas and New Years there was some illness, some cleaning/re-organizing and much staying home. And many delayed naps and crib-singing. However, the monumentous event was the delivery of Maddy's very first no-rails TODDLER BED. There was an aborted attempt to assemble it on Thursday December 29th but instead it was assembled on December 31st, while baba and dido took a kiddo out. And that night, with the crib shoved in the corner of her room, Maddy was ushered into her bed. A bed she was able to usher herself out of.
I think the outing/running around at the rec centre exhausted Maddy enough that she was pretty much out. That left baba & dido and Neil & I to sit around and polish off a bottle of non-alcoholic wine, eat too many chips coated in Helluva Good Dip and play cards. At about 10pm I had to check on Maddy. Had to see where she ended up. I have heard stories of kids falling asleep against the door of their room or in the closet or in the corner... I tiptoed in and found that stuffies had taken over her bed, namely a HUGE pink bear (about her size now) plus his friends. And I could not see Maddy. My heart jumped into my throat and I was about to start searching when I looked closer and saw... Maddy? Under the bears? I pulled off big pink bear and there she was, nestled under the toys (and not under her quilt). Teddies removed, blanket placed over her and she was out until 730am the next day! Night 1 of toddler bed was a complete success!
January 1st, nap one of the toddler bed. Naps that have been starting with up to HOURS of singing/playing. And? She did awesome. I asked her if she wanted a nap and she grabbed Odg and was crawling into bed. And hour later she awoke and we scored another victory! That night it was, again, easy to get her in. And Neil and I settled onto our respective couches and nosed around on our computers. And at about 10pm we heard "THUNK" and silence. We looked at each other and RAN to Maddy's room just as the cries started. The three of us sat on the floor, holding each other and trying to calm a crying Maddy. She just kept saying "Fall DOWN. Fall DOWN". Neil asked where it hurt and she pointed to her bed. And then crawled off our laps and into her bed, grabbed Odg and snuggled in. And fell back asleep. She was over it. We were still shell-shocked.
But another good night and we're on January 2nd 2012. After a relaxing morning we asked Maddy if she wanted her nap. She said "NYO!". We still ushered her in bed and Neil went to his computer and I went to our bed to finish my book (the Hunger Games trilogy? Amazing! Could not put it down.) Neil came upstaris and was talking on the phone as I read and listened to Maddy on the baby monitor. I listened to her talk and play. And... walk? And... a click? Click?! The door. I ran downstairs and found a smiling Maddy walking out of her room. Any attempts to restart her nap was answered with a firm "NYO!" So? We skipped her nap.
Skipped her NAP.
I was expecting a wailing melt-down of a child when we did a few errands. Nope. She was great. At dinner? She was happy. After dinner...? Just fine. A bath and bed a bit early and she was immediately asleep. I asked the all-knowing Facebook and my friends responded that some kids are ready to miss some (maybe not all) naps by age 2-ish. Maddy's age. Oy.
This holiday break was filled with fun and family and food. And a Maddy that is no longer my swaddled infant but a little girl in her toddler bed who many not need naps and is pretending as she plays and talking up a storm. My beautiful girl, baby no more.
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