Fourteen months

Dear Anna,

I am exhausted.

We just got back from a week-long vacation to San Diego to visit relatives with Lola and Angkong. You, despite extreme sleep deprivation, had a ball. Every time I turned around, someone was feeding you ice-cream. You (and Dad, not me!) braved the FREEZING cold Pacific for a swim, spent the day at the San Diego zoo, ate lots of great food, and terrorized your parents on the plane ride back.


Your dad and I like to travel light, so we decided to leave the pack-and-play behind and just let you sleep with us for the duration of the trip. BIG MISTAKE. You refused to sleep unless we lay down with you, and when you DID sleep, you insisted on taking up as much space as a twenty-pound little body could take. We woke up early every morning after a fitful night of sleep for some sort of activity, which meant that you were averaging four hours of sleep fewer every night than you get at home. A sleep-deprived Anna is a manic, Tazmanian Devil Anna. This meant frazzled, sleep-deprived parents, too.


Yesterday, our friends M and P visited. They do not have children yet and P was asking me what it is like to have a child. I, confident despite the tell-tale bags under my eyes, told him that our lives haven't changed all THAT much. I'm still the same person; we mostly do the same things. I likened going out with you to leaving the house with a giant purse, since you used to sleep all the time. (That was true six months ago. HALF YOUR LIFE ago. Why that stuck in my mind more than the difficult last few days is a mystery.) Then we went out for dinner and you spent the entire evening throwing food, spitting out milk, and squirming out of your high chair. I restrained you with one hand while eating my burger (and my words) with the other.



You ransacked the house this morning but are now, mercifully, napping. I am taking this opportunity to write your letter (if I don't, it will never get done!) and catch up on my monstrously intimidating to-do list. I am also pondering over whether or not you are acting this way because you are still sleep-deprived and out of your routine, or if this is just your true personality coming out. You have gone from being the chill little baby who sat through countless weddings without a peep to the little punk who punches her mom in the face and throws herself to the floor when something ticks her off.


Does this sound like I'm complaining? Maybe I am, a little, but mostly I'm just processing. I always say that I'm afraid to have another child since you've been so easy and that must mean that the next child will be a terror, but maybe YOU will be our terror child! What a consolation!

Okay, I'm really joking. I love that you are so much more of a PERSON now. You have your opinions and your preferences and are more and more insistent that we try to understand what you are communicating. You have many games that you play and are proving to be a very sharp, spunky little girl, which are traits I have always admired and hoped for in my child.


You are still in love with books, whether they be your Touch-and-Feel (<--what a dumb name) ones or my novels on the bottom shelf. You mimic words, sounds, actions. You pick up "tricks" easily, much to the delight of your Lola. Your new thing? Hitting yourself on the head when we say "ouch!"


You have also found yourself a new comfort object. Unlike your friend Gloria, who drags around a blanket and a giant stuffed bunny, you have shirked all of your toys in favor of... your bellybutton! There is nothing that calms you like lifting your shirt and sticking your fingers into your bellybutton. I always wanted a slightly quirky child, as well, so... thank you, God?


Grandma came over yesterday and told me that she prays that we will be able to discern which battles are worth fighting ("This is not the mountain on which to die"). You are not allowed to hit others, but we do let you eat ice cream. (Or should I say, you are not allowed to hit others, but we do let you hit yourself when we say "ouch?") We gave in to your demands for constant distractions on the airplane for the sake of the other passengers but insist that you obey when we say "no." We let you watch Sesame Street on my iPod but don't let you watch TV (unless it is The Office, and people are over, and...). We figure most of it out as we go along and recognize that our rules are probably very different from others. Sometimes we break our own rules. Sometimes our rules are dumb. Parenting can truly be hard work and it is with a lot of humility that I admit that.



The challenge for me during the stressful moments is not to equate normal one-year-old behavior with misbehaving. As much as you were driving me crazy on the airplane, your Dad and I recognized the fact that you were acting that way because you had only gotten five hours of sleep the night before and could not get to sleep despite your exhaustion because of the many distractions on the plane. You cry and flail around when you do not get what you want because that is your way of expressing your emotions. You cling to me and refuse to go to others because you get overwhelmed by being with different sets of people all the time. That does not make you a bad kid. That just makes you a kid.


You woke up from your nap a little while ago. I changed your nappy and was about to bring you to the living room to play when the phone rang. It was someone I've been trying to contact for work and I had to take the call, so I made the split-second decision to put you back in your room, close the door, and answer the phone. I ended up having a fifteen minute long conversation with the person on the phone and through it all, I could hear you crying in the other room. After I hung up, I picked you up and you clung on for dear life. We sat on the bed and cuddled and when I smiled at you, you smiled back. When things like this happen, when we leave you in your crib to sleep even as you strain against the crib bars towards us, I always feel a little bit like you might hold a grudge. But regardless of how miserable you are, how long you've cried, we pick you up and hold you for a minute, and everything is okay again.

And no matter how many times my patience runs thin, how many times I want a break from being a mom, I feel that way, too.


Anna, I'm exhausted, but you are worth it a million times over.

You are our sweet, spunky, stubborn, whiny, hyper, playful, bright little girl and we love you.


Mom

13 Months

Dear Anna,
Here's a life lesson for you: the longer put something off, the harder it will be to do.

It has been three months since I last wrote. I am so sorry. There are many reasons for the silence, but mainly it's because it is easier to write about nothing than about a great deal of somethings (like your first birthday!) and these past few months have been chock-full of noteworthy events. I’ll have to remember this in the distant future when I am bugging you to write a thank you card and you are too busy playing street hockey on your hovercraft (or whatever you kids will be doing in ten years). I’ll try to go easy on you; I’m the one who missed documenting your first birthday because I was too busy Tweeting.

Also, the longer you put something off, the more you build up expectations. Just ask your Uncle Dan H.

There's nothing like having a child to really see how quickly things can change. Last time I wrote, you were barely standing. Now you are walking (albeit like a drunken sailor). Back then, we pretended you could talk. Now, you say “tickle tickle” when you see someone’s belly (really!). Last time, you were beginning to lose your dependency on pacifiers. Now you can whip a binky into your mouth faster than I can move it out of sight (boo).

So maybe not all the changes have been progress.

Another major change? Me. I was suffering from a lot of mommy guilt when I wrote your last letter. I think a lot of factors have helped me loosen up, not the least of which is the realization that a lot of my guilt was based on my tendency to compare myself to other moms. Now I try to gauge my parenting on how well YOU’RE doing. That makes more sense, doesn’t it?

We had you dedicated at church this month. Pastor Keith, amongst other things, prayed that you will come to know the Lord at an early age. We promised to care for you, love you, and bring you up knowing God's love. It was very special to have the church community before us, promising to help raise you, too.

You are saying more words now and learning so much every day. We've tried to teach you the "How big is Anna? This big!" trick and you mostly have it down, except instead of reaching your arms out to show us how big, you either put your hands beside your head I-surrender style or pat your own head repeatedly. I guess patting your head is a very accurate answer, because you truly are THAT big.

You obviously understand a lot more now. We have to be careful not to mention "milk" until we have the bottle in hand and ready since once you hear the word, you want it NOW. When you hear us say "outside," you wave at everyone in the room and make a beeline for the door. I am yet again doing something I thought was just a cliche—spelling words so you won’t understand. M-I-L-K is easy. Not looking forward to the days we’ll have to spell longer words out loud. Or worse, sound out the words the other parent is spelling.

Your Lola and Angkong were visiting last week. You kept grabbing books and dragging them to your Lola, then pointing to the armchair by the window. It is so very nice to see you enjoying books after all the months of tossing them aside after the first page. (You had your English-major mom worried for a while.)

We were a bit apprehensive before your Lola and Ankong arrived because you've been especially clingy the past couple of weeks. At first our fears were realized: you refused to let them hold you and you cried and whined a good bit of the way home from Maryland. Once we got home, however, you relaxed. Now you happily play with Angkong and Lola and only refuse to be held by Lola when you are being especially cheeky, and even then I suspect you are teasing.

I made a joke over the weekend about how you are the "bad" kid in the church nursery now. I probably should have chosen my words more carefully. You are certainly not a "bad" kid, despite your increasing cheekiness. You just went from being the most laid-back child we know to being the kid who grabs mom's calves with a vise-like grip when mom attempts to leave the room. I suspect that you are clingy for good reasons. You are now weaned. You spend four mornings a week with someone other than Mom (church nursery on Sundays and Wednesdays, Grandpa on Mondays, Aunt N. on Thursdays). We still do a lot of traveling.

I had a real "mom" moment the other day when I backed out of attending a lecture at the law school because it would mean a night with a babysitter for an already-insecure you. Sometimes I don’t realize that something needs to change until you are all of a sudden not acting like yourself. I still have mornings when I am startled to realize that it’s been too long since I've changed or checked your diaper. I guess having to sit in your own poop for too long would make anyone cry and refuse a nap. The thing is, it's taken me a while to get the hang of this mom thing. Your dad and I joke that it’s a good thing babies don’t remember the first couple of years of life, since that gives parents a buffer period in which they can learn how to be parents. I think there’s some truth to that.

As I write this, I am sitting at Webster’s downtown. You are at your Aunt Naomi’s house playing with Gloria, as you do every Thursday morning. Part of getting the hang of motherhood meant realizing one thing—it is NICE to not be a mom for a bit. People kept telling us that we needed to protect our marriage by setting aside time for dates, but no one mentioned how important it is to have time to myself. Having a morning free to read the paper with a cup of coffee in a crowded coffee shop (so original, I know) is revitalizing for me. And it is nice to be able to run errands without having to wrestle with a car seat at every stop.

Just as wonderful is the fact that you are developing a friendship with Gloria. You break out in big smiles when you see each other. You make quite a team, too—Gloria, the strong one, arranges the furniture so you, the monkey, can climb on top of them. Aunt Naomi and I appreciate the fact that you and Gloria have the opportunity to learn how to share. The two of you fight for toys (and food) and you’ve had to experience the extreme frustration of another kid stealing your pacifier and running away faster than you can follow. You’re the only child for now, but it’s good for you to learn that you are not the center of the universe. So you’re clingy in response to not getting as much one-on-one attention, but maybe this is one lesson that’s also part of growing up. And playing with a kid who could squash you if she wanted is probably good in toughening you up.

Although you’re certainly more challenging when you are clingy, I have to admit that I am also kind of loving it—you went from being a squirmy, independent baby to being a major cuddle-bug. The first thing you do every morning when Daddy picks you up from your crib and brings you to our bed is bury our face in my neck. During the day, when I’m sitting at my desk, you periodically take a break from playing and reach your arms up towards me for a hug and cuddle. You even sit still on our laps now.

You are growing so quickly, Anna. I am afraid that I'll blink and another three months will have gone by. But I'll write again before then. Promise.

We love you,

Mom and Dad

10 months

Hi Anna,

It's been a tough-nap day today. Most days are good-nap days, nap-like-clockwork days. Today it took me two hours to get you down for your morning nap.

Why didn't I give up, you might ask, since you were obviously not tired? It's because I count on your naps-like-clockwork to sneak a nap in myself. Or guilt-free uninterrupted reading, whether in book form or (Face)book form. Also because naps significantly improve the rest of the day's outlook.

Quickly, this month, you are able to:

• respond to "kitty, kitty!"
• flip pages in books
• stand on your own (for a moment so short, it is quantifiable only by a parent)
• discern that Cheerios are BLAND!
  
• open cupboards
  
• fling yourself off the changing table in a blink of an eye
• say "hi" and "bye" (maybe we are making this up)
• fall asleep without a pacifier!
• sometimes use a duck butt as a pacifier, on your own volition

Last night, you went to sleep after two semi-frustrating tries of putting you down in your pack-and-play (your Craigslist crib got recalled!). After much ado, you finally crawled to your pacifier, stuck it in your mouth, and put your head down. Two hours of baby-freedom (and one BAD Scrabble game--boo Daddy!) later, I looked at your dad and said, "I miss Anna. I want to go look at her even if it means I might accidentally wake her up."

I tell this anecdote not because I am a helicopter parent, but to give you just a tiny, tiny glimpse of what a fantastic little girl you are. You are a DELIGHT. I look at your chipmunk cheeks and roly-poly tummy and smell your sunshine/Aveeno/oatmeal/milk scent and hear your donkey laugh and just want to gobble you up like a marshmallow peep. I've felt this way ever since I laid eyes on you but for some reason, the feeling has been particularly acute this month.

I took you in for your nine-month check-up and you weighed in under seventeen pounds. This puts you at the puny 10th - 25th percentile. Your height and head circumference have held steady at 25% (compared to other female babies her age, for those of you who are unfamiliar with baby growth charting). You are, however, right on or even a bit advanced in your development. We get lots of comments about how you can already (insert baby skill) at such a young age and we smile and nod and then realize a few hours later that these well-meaning strangers/friends think you're two months younger than you are, which is considerable considering 2 months is 1/5 of your age. So maybe they're all a little more impressed than they should be, but better that than the alternative, I suppose.

You had two notable accidents in the past two days. Yesterday, I was sitting on the futon in your room while you were playing. I glanced away for two seconds and next thing I hear is a big WHUMP and a heartbreaking cry. You landed on your back (and hit your head) but what was more alarming was that somehow you hit your eye on the way down and cut your eyelid. You had a puffy eye the rest of the day (and a scabby cut). The boo-boo looked especially pathetic once you got over the pain and started to smile again. A laughing little baby with a swollen eye is a sight that can break the hardest of hearts.

The second accident occurred while we were shopping at Target tonight. (Incidentally, I returned a shirt that had unraveled in the wash and was thrilled about the fact that I now had a certain amount of money to spend on a NEW shirt and guess who ended up with the new shirt at my encouragement? Your dad. I sabotage myself! It also took me three tries to spell "sabotage.") Anyway, your dad was trying on a shirt so I took over cart-pushing and um, got too close to the clothes displays and I smooshed your tiny fingers. You howled and then got over it. I am still not over it. I am so sorry. I am a bad cart-driver and now have seen the consequences.

As I type, you are sitting in your new booster seat/high chair eating cheese. There are Cheerios mixed in with the cheese on your tray. Your dad just came in to tell me that you are systematically picking out the Cheerios that are co-mingling with the beloved cheese and throwing them onto the floor.

Your dad and I were talking this evening about how you are never in a bad mood and never cry unless 1) you don't want to go to bed, which happens occasionally; 2) you don't want to lie down for a diaper change without a toy to hold as distraction; 3) someone smooshes your tiny fingers. You are seriously a really easy kid. I am working two full days a week (from home) this summer. All I have to do to keep you entertained is set up your toys in the living room, stick unbreakables on a shelf for you to pull down, and talk to you occasionally.

Our friends told us that one of THEIR friends spends a big part of every day doing educational activities with her child. When I heard this, I felt guilty that I don't do the same for you. Most days consist of a lot of interaction, yes, but generally you play with your toys or hang out with me as I go about my day. Sometimes I don't even read to you. This made me feel terrible for a while, like my friends were secretly trying to tell me that I don't do enough with you... which means that you won't actually reach your full intellectual potential... which means that I am a bad mom.

And this train of thought is part of what has given me Great Parenting Revelations:

1. I am doing the best that I can.
2. Each baby's needs are different.
3. It is wrong to judge other peoples' parenting.
4. I need to stop being paranoid that other people are judging my parenting.

Number four is especially hard for me. I feel unspoken judgment from working friends that "all I do" is stay home with you all day. I feel unspoken judgment from SAHM friends because I sometimes admit to feeling bored at home and look forward to going back to school/work. I feel unspoken judgment for letting you use a pacifier, for surfing the internet while you are playing, for not reading to you enough, for sometimes giving you formula, for giving you sweet potatoes three meals in a row, for letting you cry to tire you out some nights, for dressing you in baby jeans, for dressing you in almost entirely second-hand clothes, for not putting you in daycare... And that brings me to the Greatest Parenting Revelation: most--if not all--of these are in my own head and I NEED TO STOP JUDGING MYSELF.

My hope and prayer for you is that you have true joy in your heart and that you are loved by many and love many. And if I am honest with myself, I know that factors as small as baby jeans or as large as whether or not I go back work are ultimately irrelevant. Because I truly am loving you the best way that I know how.

And, on a lighter note and in the interest of full disclosure for future reference, the
Top 5 NON-fun Things About Being Your Parent:

1. You like to pinch my neck and it HURTS.
2. Sometimes you kick and scream like you are being mauled by a bear when really, you just don't want to sleep EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY EXHAUSTED.
3. I cannot count the number of times I have had to touch your truly disgusting poop.
4. The fact that no matter HOW hard I try to minimize your baby junk, your bag for a weekend away is easily four times the size of ours.
5. I can no longer sleep in.

I once told your daddy that I love you more than applesauce. He scoffed and said that I don't really even love applesauce. True.

Anna, I love you more than sleep.

Mom

Nine months

Dear Anna,

I was going to start by saying that you have officially been outside my belly for as long as you were inside, but that would not be accurate since you were born a month early. So I really should've made that dramatic statement last month. But I didn't think of it.

Um.

You now wave. And clap. And Daddy swears that you took a couple of steps (which I maintain were random foot-shuffles mid-fall that happened to look like steps). At any rate, you're still a standing/furniture-cruising fiend, hardly ever staying still and mostly opting to stand instead of crawl.

Hanging out in your "activity garden," which takes up the whole living room area when we have it out. There is no longer any doubt that there is a child in our house.

Yeah, I feel the same way when I don't get mail.

You have now eaten fish and red meat, although most meals still consist of pureed steamed vegetables. It is now obvious that your favourite things to eat are bread and fruit. This translates to carbs and sugar, which means that the apple has not fallen far from the tree.

This month, we are cat-sitting for your grandma and grandpa. We joke that the cat is your uncle, since he is like Grandma and Grandpa's other kid, but maybe we shouldn't joke about that too much because it just makes our family sound weird. At any rate, Chai the cat is staying with us. You LOVE him. You do your donkey laugh whenever you see him. Chai tolerates you, which is sweet of him considering your habit of grabbing his fur and trying to chew his tail. I am enjoying Chai for the most part, but am just wary that 1) he will climb into bed with us and breathe on me with his nasty fish breath or 2) he will jump into your crib during one of your naps and freak you out. (So yeah, the second fear is more valid than the first, but both are there.)

Poor Uncle Chai. (For the record, this picture was taken a couple of months ago.)

You attended three weddings this month. During the first wedding (Uncle Andrew and Aunt Becca's), you hung out with Grandma and Grandpa at the back of the church and mostly snoozed through it. You were a sweetheart during Uncle Kit and Aunt Julia's wedding the next week and only needed to be quieted (happy sounds) with a bottle of milk once. We were in Michigan this last weekend for Uncle Steven and Aunt Casey's wedding, during which you hung out in the nursery with your new friend Andrew. As far as we know you didn't terrorize any of the other children. So you have behaved for all five weddings you've attended in your nine months of life, which means there is a good chance we'll bring you along to the two other weddings we're going to this summer. Good job, Anna!

Behaving at Uncle Andrew and Aunt Becca's wedding.

Taking advantage of being all dressed up. Family photo time!

With Uncle Abel and Andrew last weekend.

It took us 10 hours to get to Grand Rapids for Aunt Casey's wedding last week. The only thing I am going to say about that is that you are no longer as fond of your car seat as you used to be. (But you did well.)

The most notable thing about this month for us is that you were finally able to meet your big brother Luka! He is a hyper one and mostly danced around, only pausing for a few seconds at a time to give hugs or pose for pictures. We found it endearing that he always referred to you as "Baby Anna." It sure warmed our hearts to see you two together. We still haven't stopped wishing that we could just bring him home with us for good! (You also got to meet a bunch of our friends from TZ, which was not only very special to us, but also nice because they love babies and you had different people taking turns holding you throughout the entire weekend.)

What a happy family! Dad, Mom, Luke, Rugby Ball, Anna!

Oh, you two.

With Uncle Colton during the reception (I believe I was getting more chocolate covered strawberries when this was taken).

You are, thankfully, sleeping well. You go down for your naps with no problem, napping at least two or three times a day. You rarely cry when I put you down and usually have no problem going to sleep for the night at around 7 or 8, which leaves your dad and I a few hours in the evening to do our own thing (i.e. wash dishes, read, stalk friends on Facebook interruption-free. Your parents are SO exciting.)

I feel the need to warn all of our friends who do not have children that they should SLEEP IN as much as they can before they have kids. You have made it impossible by waking up between 5:00 - 7:00 AM every single morning. We usually just bring you to bed with us until Dad leaves for work at 7:30, but you spend most of the time poking us in the eyes and crawling over us, so awake and ready to PLAY!* while we desperately try to catch a few more minutes of sleep. I am not the best mother during these moments.

Anna wants to play, Mom wants to sleep.

I spent some time going through pictures of you today to make a "Best of Anna" folder. In the process, I also found a bunch that should go into a "Worst of Anna" folder. Maybe this is mean, or just me getting very premature, preemptive revenge (oxymoron?) for all those times you will be embarrassed of me when you are a teenager, but I thought everyone would appreciate a couple samples of "Worst of" shots. (You're usually so cute that it's only fair to the other kids.) Here are a couple:

You okay there, Missy?

Ha ha ha ha!

You'll always be beautiful to us, Anna.


Love,
Mom

*You have two favourite games. 1) As soon as you see Daddy's bare chest, you lunge and give him titty-twisters (I wish there was a better way to say that). Mommy finds this game much more amusing than Daddy. 2) You grab your pacifier and ram it in Daddy's or my mouth then laugh at how silly we look. Then you yank it back out and put it back in yours. You can do this indefinitely.

Eight Months

Dear Anna,

You are eight and a half months old now and a completely different child than you were a month ago.

For one, you are LOUD. You used to sit silently for hours at a time, just taking everything in with your round eyes. You made sounds every now and then, but only for a short spurt of time. Almost like you needed about ten minutes every few hours to verbally express yourself, and that was it. NOW, you not only babble (you first started technically babbling "ba-ba-ba" during the E Free women's retreat), but you have discovered the ability to YELL. You especially like to practice yelling during mealtimes between bites. Is it okay for me to say that it can be really annoying? Annoying in a cute way, of course.


You are also incredibly mobile. Last month you were doing the army crawl, dragging your belly along the ground while your arms frantically grasped for a handhold. You looked like you were rock-climbing ala your father, except completely horizontal. Now, you can crawl in earnest. I thought I would have to start putting up baby gates and obstacles to keep you from crawling all through the house but you interrupted your own crawling progress when you realized you could STAND. We discovered the skill abruptly when, in the middle of the night, we heard some movement in your crib and turned on the lights to find you standing, practically hanging over the side rail. My heart jumped to my throat when I saw you staring at me in your upright position. You let us in on your new skill quite dramatically, Anna. You seemed very pleased with yourself.


Let me tell you, you probably spend 70% of your waking hours standing. For about two weeks, I couldn't get you to sleep without a struggle because you would immediately stand but couldn't figure out how to sit back down. Your standing practice also means that you have an impressive number of goose-eggs at any given day. But you're tough and only cry for a minute after you fall.


You are also very grabby. You like to grab my hair, grab my SKIN (I had no idea the skin on my sternum is loose enough to pinch!), grab food, grab expensive electronic devices. We visited the Arensens again after Becca's wedding. Barb served hot tea and yes, you immediately lunged for the mug and upended it on the table, scalding your poor little hand (and my thumb). You screamed and were obviously in pain for a while. We gave you a wrapped ice pack to hold (which you liked) and ran your hand under water and tried to distract you by taking you outside. You cried on and off for maybe twenty minutes and then forgot about it until you accidentally brushed against the little blister that appeared on your thumb. Poor girl. Alas, it could've been worse. I had just taken off your onesie and the tea could've spilled over your chest. We will count ourselves lucky if this is THE babyhood horry story. (This happened just this past week. I'm cheating here and including stories from halfway through your eight months--basically robbing next month of stories, but oh well.)

Since we didn't get any pictures of you wailing after your burned your hand, here is a cute one with your new friend, Maggie.

You got to hang out with Grandma and Grandpa during Aunt Becca and Uncle Andrew's wedding. Your favourite thing to do besides hang out with Grandma and Grandpa was to lean against the plastic walls of the pavilion while one of us made faces at you from the other side. I tell this story as an excuse to post this picture, because you are so very cute:



Food. You love food, just like your mom and dad. You eat everything we give you and try to eat things that we don't give you. So far I have tried hard to give you pure veggies and fruit (no salt! no sugar!) but you do love munching on wheat toast. You also like stew, plain chicken, and cheese. Your dad let you try chocolate twice this past month. You were completely poker-faced the first time but really, really excited the second time. I think we'll hold off on sweets for, oh, maybe another decade.

The biggest progress we've seen with the food thing is that you used to not be able to do anything with your Cheerios except shove them off the table in your excitement. Now you can feed yourself Cheerios one at a time. Honestly? I feel like I am watching each little development happen before my very eyes. (I guess that is the job description of being a SAHM.)

No, we don't actually let you eat whole apples, but I'm sure you'd like to try.

I have been making your baby food myself, just one of the manifestions of how I've become a hippie, au naturel, baby-wearing mom (peace!). It is actually very satisfying; the returns for a couple of hours of elbow-grease are exponential. Sort of like using cloth diapers. Maybe this will reveal the very depths of my SAHM-ness, but there are not many things more satisfying to the mom in me than several freezer bags' worth of baby food cubes or a stack of clean diapers.

So healthy. So satisfying. So... much cheaper than buying jars of baby food.

The best thing about babywearing. This and being able to multitask.

You have a wonderful gummy smile that you insist on sharing with the world. I feel very sad for you when you frantically smile at a stranger and they don't notice you. Your face actually falls.
I suspect, however, that you are going to replace the gummy smile with a tooth-y smile relatively soon, if the painful biting during feeding is any indication. I stuck my finger in your mouth this morning and yep! there is a reason for all that drooling! I guess we'll have to add brushing your one burgeoning tooth to our nighttime routine.


Oh! You have also discovered how to be annoying! I already mentioned the yelling. Even worse, you have discovered how to WHINE. When you don't get your way, you do this ridiculous little sputter, as if you are trying to make yourself cry. I find myself threatening you in a sing-song voice: "Anna Banana! I'm going to... stick you in the oven!" Then, for the next twenty-four hours, I am wracked with horror and guilt that I said such a terrible thing (WHICH I OBVIOUSLY DID NOT MEAN).

I have also struggled with the bad parent guilt of ignoring your cries sometimes in order to get something else done. Like right now, you just woke up from your nap and want me to pick you up, but I'm too busy blogging about you. Ha ha.*

Welcome to the world of parenthood, me.

Love,
Mom

P.S. Have I mentioned that you just get cuter and cuter? To the point of ridiculousness?


*Don't worry, I went and got you.

Yoga baby, etc.

I uploaded new pics on Facebook. Here is the link to the album for those of you have resisted its sinister forces (thus far).


(still need to embed pics to the six/seven-month letter)

Months 6 and 7 (Asia trip)

Oh, Anna.

To say that the past two months have been crazy would be a gross understatement. I decided to lump your six and seven month newsletter in one so that I could write about our trip to Asia all at once (and it was a good excuse to put it off... it's taken me this long to muster up the energy to even ATTEMPT to write about everything!)

You not only went on TEN different flights, you also survived:

a 12-hour time difference
the flu AND RSV (simultaneously!)
adjusting from Pennsylvania winter to sweltering heat
being held by dozens and dozens of new people
three different bouts of the cold

Can I just say that you are amazing? I am thrilled that you are already showing signs of being a person who thrives on travel, new friends, and new experiences.

Our trip to the Philippines and Taiwan was just so special. Your Angkong and two uncles got to meet you for the first time and were smitten, of course. Your great-grandmas and great-grandpa were overjoyed to hold you in their arms. And I loved introducing you to those who knew me when I was a little girl. You charmed the hearts of everyone from flight attendants to strangers on the street (some of whom asked to get a picture with you, much to my amusement).

Everyone has been curious about how you did on the flights. On the way there, you were still pretty sick and the doctors and nurses warned us that the air pressure might wreak havoc with your ears. People reminded me over and over that I should feed you during take-offs and landings. Well, I did my best, but you fell asleep each time. At first I frantically tried to wake you to keep you eating and then I realized that DUH! Sleeping is a good thing! You were fine.

What were the best parts of the trip?
Seeing everyone, of course
Celebrating your BEAUTIFUL great-grandma's 80th birthday with over 200 of her friends
Getting to watch Mom binge on Teriyaki Boy and seafood more than just a couple times
Swimming in the ocean! (more comfortable than the cold spring!)
Not having to sit in a car seat during car rides (Mom still feels some retroactive anxiety about this)
Hardly ever being put down
Sleeping beside Mom every night
The view outside the airplane window

What were the worst parts?
Having to sit still for all those loooooong flights
Being sick
Not seeing Dad for a whole WEEK
Saying goodbye to Lola and Angkong, Tito Vic and Tito Law
Several exploding diapers a day due to the 1) antibiotics and 2) too-small diapers

Please forgive the lack of anecdotes in this letter. In the future, when you want to hear about your first trip to see your Lola and Angkong, we'll look at these pictures together and I will tell you the stories behind them.

Oh, I should note that you started to sit up on your own while we were in the Philippines. And you ate your first bites of solid food when we were in Taiwan! (You were a champ--partly because you are just amazing, but also because I know deep down that you were ready for solids maybe two months ago).

Since we've been back, it's certainly been a challenge to get you back to your old routine. We had just successfully sleep-trained you before we left for Taiwan... and now you are waking up about as often as a newborn. What's worse is that you no longer want to sleep by yourself, after experiencing the joys of sharing a bed with Mom and Dad! (I will save the thoughts on sleep-training for a later post.)

Before we left on our trip, one of our friends from church warned me, "Anna will be spoiled rotten, but it will be WORTH IT."

How true.

I love you, Anna.

Mom