I guess I never really learned to spell, and I turned out o.k.

Harper walked on water today.  No.  But she clapped for the first time, which is about the same thing.  She was a late clapper.  Today is her ten month birthday, so she made it on the baby center poll, also known as the realm of normal.  

She has friends younger than her that have been clapping for months.  Friends who don’t crawl, who can clap.  In fact, almost everyone she knows can clap, except the pets.  She could point, do the one baby sign we taught her (‘all done’, which is really not as handy as ‘nap’ or ‘personal space’ would have been).  She even has been taking a baby step like once every week and a half or so.  Earler today, I left the fridge door open for a bit.  When I turned back, she had climbed about a foot up, was stuck and crying.  What is that about?  She can climb better than she can baby step.  

I had almost given up on her clapping.  I thought maybe she would just never clap, and tried to justify that:  Really, do you need to clap?  Sure, it comes in handy at live performances, sporting events, graduation, and so on, but you could just as well as whistle.  It could be a bit awkward sometimes, like when people clap to the beat and she whistles along, but it is really no biggie.  

These are questions she will not have to face, because she clapped today.  Give the girl a hand.

Now What

We are headed back to Chicago tonight, a fate only worse than being cleaned for the baby, I am sure.  Good bye fishing docks, sunny beaches, doting grandparents, hello cold cruel world.  On some level I’m looking forward to winter again (masochist?), but I don’t know how we will make it though 3 more months of it.  Just think, 3 months from now Harper will probably be walking and taking a bit.  The ground will only be beginning to thaw.

Really, how will we make it though being stuck indoors till March/April-ish?  We have new toys from Christmas, maybe if I give her one a week.  O.k., that will give us about 10-20 minutes of fun about 3 times a day, more or less.  We have playgoups, say about 3 days a week from 11:00-1:00.  We could build a fort?  Fun for mom.  Nap.  Snack. Repeat?  HELP!  How do I keep her occupied without dirt or a swing?

Merry Christmas

If you are reading this, there is a good chance we miss you very much right now.  I wish Christmas was a portal that lead you to a place where all the people you love are.  Like Quantum Leap, but different.  Actually, nothing like Quantum Leap.  That would be awful.

Wish you were here & tons of Love & hope your holidays are like a portal that is not on Quantum Leap!

In my family, we open one present on Christmas Eve.  I was lucky enough to marry into a family that has the same tradition.  

Tonight was Harper’s first Christmas Eve, and she had a wonderful time.  She tore wrapping paper, ate a box, and even partied past 7:00 p.m. with new buddies.  Lets cross our fingers she keeps the good times coming.  I think she will as she LOVES her Grammy & Granddad, ripping wrapping paper, boxes, food and Florida.

Leave the Baby in Another Room

Happy Holidays form sunny Florida!

Harper is almost 10 months, and has lost interest in walking.  It seems like a hassle, when crawling is just so easy.  This does not worry me.  Someday, she will walk.  She’ll certainly surcome to the peer pressure.  

What worries me is that she wants to climb.  I know people who have climbers.  They are not happy.  Their kids cannot be left in a room alone.  They end up dangling from high places, sometimes falling.  There are tears and little time spent not watching the climber.  I have so looked forward to a time when I can leave the baby in another room, and she will amuse herself.  I mean that in a loving way, in a I’m running out of tricks to entertain you, baby girl, and I need to use big words sometimes way.  Maybe if I just rid the house of climbable objects, like furniture, it will be o.k.  There would be fewer objects to dust, too!  And, the dog will not have the temptation of the couch.  That dog. and the couch. the hair.  ugh.

Pack It Up

She is cute, right.  I mean, come on.  I’m her mom, I might not be objective about her all the time, but she is way cute.

Her poo smells.  I mean bad.  Like, ‘Why did I not even try elimination communication!?!’ bad.  What can I do (other than hand her over to Skylar)?  Is there some magic make my baby’s poo stop smelling like feral dogs who eat stick bombs and roll in possum doo food?

Any-who, we are headed out to Florida, to spend Christmas with Skylar’s parents.  This morning, the weather channel was predicting a high of 2 and a low of 1 in Chicago tomorrow.  There is probably a foot or more of snow out there, too.  Aaa, Florida!  I cannot wait.  Sun, swimming, and please, oh please, a break from this eczema that has taken over our family.  We are very dry and very uncomfortable. 

If All Your Friends Jumped Off A Cliff

I found this picture, from when Harper was a newborn-ish itty bit, on Skylar’s computer.

I am on Skylar’s computer.  My computer died yesterday.  We were not that close, really.  I was his third owner, so he was a handed down hand me down.  What I miss the most are my bookmarks.  There were some good ones, bookmarks to blogs, crafty things to do someday, beautiful toys that I will never really spend the money on…  I miss you, bookmarks.  Skylar’s bookmarks are about fantasy sports, Mob Wars, Facebook, works stuff.  I feel like Goldilocks, and this computer is too masculine.  Sorry if this sounds forced or awkward, but it is.

In other news, one of our best buddies is pregnant again!  Yea!  This marks the third buddy of Harper and mine to be on the way toward baby number two.   Now that one of our bestest buddies is pregnant, I was a little worried that once she has her baby, we’ll never see them again.  They’ll go off to two baby other-worldliness, where ever that is.  I wouldn’t know, because I only have one baby.  I’m a new mom.  I’ll still be new, and she’ll be a veteran.  So, naturally, I thought it might be time to go a head and make another baby.  “But all of my friends are doing it!”  Logic did not really fly in this house.  

Oh, well.  Hopefully, I’ll be more helpful by only having one baby.  She’ll be walking by then, so I will have an extra set of hands.

She Found The Dirt Inside

As we suspected, potting soil does not taste so good.  She discovered the joys of house plants right before her nap.  When I went in to get her, after she woke up, her whole room wreaked of rosemary.

No. Touch. Kitty.

On the phone with my mom today, she said she wished she had a recording of the conversation so she could play it for Harper when she is ten.  Unfortunately, we have no phone tap.  I guess we can perform a reenactment using this script:

 

Mom:  Hello.

Me:  Hi.

Mom:  What is going on?  You sound like you are either laughing or crying.

Me:  Both.  I think I gave Harper a black eye.

Mom:  Don’t you hate that!  It is amazing they survive what you put them through.  When I think of what I did to your oldest brother, Will. 

Me:  It is not like I dropped her.  Harper, no.  I was carrying her into the living room.  She leaned out at the wrong time, I didn’t stop fast enough, and her head hit the door frame.  No touch kitty.

Mom:  Is she o.k.?

Me:  She is fine.  She barley cried.  Kitty does not like that.  But it is her first Christmas, and, oh, the pictures.

Mom:  Makeup.

Me:  Harper, no.  She looks like Rocky.  Harper.  No.

Mom:  Well I guess you can’t put a steak on a baby’s eye.

Me:  Spanky does not like that.  No. Touch.  Kitty.

Mom:  And, you pobably don’t have a steak.  (See as how you don’t eat meat.)  What about frozen peas?

Me:  We moved all our food to the basement freezer to make room Harper No for the cookies.  HarperNo.  HarperNo.  We have teething toys, but she won’t hold still.  Notouchkitty Notouchkitty.

Mom:  You sound like you are busy.

Me:  RUN SKANKY, RUN!

Mom:  I would just go with the make up.

Me:  O.k.  Love you.

Mom.  Love you, too.  Bye.

 

(Sorry for the lack of a picture.  I’ll get my act together soon.)

An Open Letter of Unsolicited Advice

I know a few pregnant ladies and new moms (new than me).  They have got me thinking about all the crazy things people tell you when you are pregnant or holding a newborn.  It is like a free pass for total strangers to tell you how you should eat, give birth, find your kegel, breath into your pelvic floor, get your baby to sleep, eat, go longer between feedings, poop more, poop less.  

Now, I want to tell them every bit of advice I found useful.  I have become one of those people.  It was inevitable.  So here it goes:

•  You are going to be a great mother.
• You know everything you need to know.  (Don’t let anyone tell you how to parent your kids, especially me.  Only you know how to mother your baby.  Why?  Because you are the mommy, that is why!)
• Tell your husband you have diareha.  There are days, or weeks, that will be hard.  Just tell your partner you have diareah.  Go in the bathroom.  Relax.  Read a magazine.  Do your nails, whatever it takes till you feel better.  (This is the best advice I ever got.)
• Sit down with your partner before the baby comes, and discuss how you will devide the responsibilities, i.e. baby care, cleaning, laundry, finances, all it takes to run your household.
• All you need to do for the first 3 weeks is nurse.

I wish I could remember more of the crazy stuff, but there was too much going on.  People would mostly comment on how big my belly was, and marvel at that I could still fit into the booth at Ruby Tuesday’s.  Hot.

Dish, what did people tell you?

 

(This picture is of my mom, who is not big on unsolicited advice.  I’m lucky to have her.)

Crying is Noisy

A couple of weeks ago Harper became a champion sleeper, 2 fabulous naps, at least 11 hours a night, we can put her down drowsy but awake.  I’m bragging here.  I know, I hate me, too.

Now, the cats have figured out how to open the door to her room.  They throw their bodies against it tossing the door open, walk right in, and wake her up.  WTF!  Why?  Spanky (formerly known as Skanky) used to go in, and sleep on the day bed in Harper’s room.  These last couple of mornings, Spanky opens the door, walks in, chiming her kitty bell, and walks out.  She is probably forced to leave by the volume of Harper’s shrill cries.

The thing is, I’m up to see all of it happen, because I forgot how to sleep though the night.  I still get up at 4:00 a.m.  I started feeding the animals instead of the baby, to give it a sense of purpose.

 

(I owe you pictures, and they are coming.  We have a battery charger!  Yea!  And this weekend, my mom is in town for Kippy Christmas.  So, there should be some film worthy stuff going on.)