Saturday 25 February 2012

It's the Little Things

It's the little things that mean the most. Seeing the world through a toddler's eyes is a remarkable thing. You remember how much fun the little things can be.
Today hasn't been an overly exciting day for me. Sure, we went shopping and out for dinner, but nothing made me clap my hands and laugh the way she did over the little things.
A box of crayons and a piece of paper, the best toys money can buy, extra points if the crayons are someone else's and come in a cup instead of a box.
A cardboard box. I forgot how many things a box can become! A chair, a table, a set of drums, a hiding place...the possibilities are endless, as is the fun!
Socks, putting them on your feet, hands and saying the word...socks are fun when you're 19 months old.
Listening to the same song for the hundredth time. Every time she will laugh and clap in excitement.
Jumping. Jumping is fun when you are 19 months old, especially if mommy jumps too. Ditto for running around the house.
Tupperware. On a daily basis tupperware becomes a boat, a car, a cup, a drum... empty tupperware is almost as much fun as an empty box.
Bubbles. Blowing them or playing in them in the bath. Eating them, splashing them...bubbles are fun.
Finding a penny and putting it in her piggy bank. She found a quarter at Leon's today and was so excited, you would have thought it was a toy or piece of candy.

The little things that she sees everyday, the ones that don't cost a thing (or cost very little); the familiar things that we as adults pay little or no notice too, are what makes a toddler's day fulfilled. I would love to be able to feel the excitement over the little things the same way she does. Seeing her enjoy the little things makes me appreciate them all the more. I think everyone should spend an afternoon with a 19 month old and learn to appreciate snowflakes and slush, rocks and stickers, pennies and crayons. It's a wonderful thing to see the joy the little things bring.
Miss S admiring the snow...and eating it too...

Friday 17 February 2012

Special Report

Yesterday after work, Miss S wanted to colour (which she shared by signing colour and bringing me markers). I grabbed her crayons and paper and put her in her high chair, where she sat for a good 45 minutes, even after Grano showed up!
She was colouring and I was singing The Colours of the Rainbow while showing her all the colours. I sat down with my hubby at the table when she holds up a purple crayon. I say and sign, "Purple," to which she responds by signing and saying, "Purpaaal." Not once, but twice in a row. We shrieked and clapped and repeated it to her. She proceeded to whisper it, I think we freaked her out a bit, but it was a perfect "purple." *Tear* Such a proud momma moment!

These first words are so much fun. I love (almost) every spoken word. Unless it comes at 2am, then...not so much. What makes me say this you ask? Well, for a week my darling daughter has been up in the dead of night. A few nights ago I was triumphant when we heard her calling, "Dada! Daaaaadaaaaa!!! DaaaDAA!"
"She wants you."
Win for mommy.
Until the next night when we hear a VERY loud and demanding, "Mama!! Maaaamaaaa! MaaaMAA!"
"She wants you."
You know when hearing "Mama" isn't nice? At 2:30 in the morning. The only thing I want to hear at 2:30 in the morning is...the wind in the trees, crickets...nothing. I want to hear nothing because I want to be asleep.
Luckily last night we only had a brief midnight waking where neither parent was called to her room for snuggles. In fact, neither parent even went in to check in when she started making noise because midnight is way past our bedtime and after a week of being up all night, short of a fire, we weren't getting out of bed. In all honesty I don't know who fell back asleep first, her or me, all I know is that she called me in at 6:30, which I can deal with. It was a big joke to her though.
"Mama. *giggle, giggle, squeal* Mama!"
I go in, "Shhh...morning baby."
Response I get, "Hi. *sniff, sniff* blah."
I don't know why. Maybe I had morning breath. I checked her diaper. No mess, but she sniffed a few more times before snuggling in for another 45 minutes. Good morning. It must have been all that talking she did yesterday.

Monday 13 February 2012

19 months...another step closer to 2

Today my baby is 19 months old. I can't even believe it. 19 months did not get off to a good start. I was literally up at 19 months to the minute to when she was born. It was a long night...followed by a long day since Miss S was in no mood to nap alone. She spent her nap in my bed clutching to me. Let's hope tonight is not a repeat.

I honestly don't know where to begin. The past month alone has flown by, let's face it, my baby is closer to 2yrs old than 1yr old. We are in a totally different age bracket. 18-24 months. Practically out of the baby department and into the toddler/girl department. Yikes.

There are still "baby flashbacks" though. Lots of them actually, and I cherish each one.
While we do have words (even if we are the only ones that understand them), we still have lots of baby babble, and gosh is that priceless. She will literally babble on, laugh and keep going like, "Do you get it Momma? Aren't I funny?!"

Whenever she nurses, closes her eyes and snuggles in close, I remember my sweet newborn. She sweet, warm breath on my skin brings back all those new mom, newborn, head over heels in love memories.
When she takes my hand to walk up or down the stairs, I remember not so long ago when I had to hold her hands to help her walk.
Every step takes her further into toddlerhood and away from being my little baby. If I am being honest, each step brings her closer to being a real little girl. I look at her sometimes I think that I can't get rid of her bangs because then she really will look like a little girl. She's so tall that she often gets mistaken for older than she is.
PS- that makes buying pants a PAIN. They are either the right length but HUGE in the waist, or they are flood pants. Thank God for babylegs and cloth diapers, one to add length to her pants, the other to add a little booty.

Will I ever stop being amazed at how fast she grows? She takes my breath away. My heart beats a little faster when I think about how in two short years she will be going to school. All day, every day, away from me. Reading, writing, making friends, having sleepovers. For now I will just cherish sticky baby kisses and bear hugs. I will cherish the (very) early morning (or late night) snuggles and remember that they truly wont last forever, because sooner than I 'd like to admit, it wont be "cool" to hold hands and give countless hugs and kisses anytime, anywhere. Soon she wont need, or want, my snuggles to fall asleep, or even in the early morning light before we start our day. 19 months ago I was holding my newborn in my arms, never imagining the amazing little girl she would become. 19 months ago I was the mother of a newborn baby girl, tiny and squishy and totally dependent on me. 19 months ago I became a mother and realized what it felt like to truly love; I realized what it was to have a piece of myself, a piece of my heart, in my arms.

So, while last night and this morning...and this afternoon, I had to keep thinking of LML moments to keep from crying for lack of sleep, at this moment, sitting by myself, enjoying the quiet, I am reminded how lucky I am for every motherhood moment, the easy and the hard (though the easy are more fun). I am so fortunate to have not only my beautiful baby girl, but my beautiful big girl, and am so grateful that my girls are surrounded by love. 19 months ago my family went to sleep as a family of four. We were forever changed by a tiny bundle of pink who still fills our days with laughter and love. Happy 19 months my little Petunia Picklebottom. Momma loves you.

Monday 6 February 2012

Pieces of Me

Becoming a mother is a lot like when the Grinch learns the true meaning of Christmas, but worse.
You know how the Grinch looks down and sees all the Whos singing and his heart grows three sizes? That's what happens when you become a mother...but imagine that the part of your heart that grew three sizes now lives outside of your body.
Being a mother means that a part of your heart, the part essential to living, is running around the world getting into mischief, getting bonked and bruised, crying, laughing and, in a nutshell, adding more than one grey hair to your head.
Being a mother means that every time your baby falls down, gets a bump or bruise or cries, your heart aches. It physically hurts my heart to see my baby in any pain, to even think about anyone ever hurting her is enough to make me ill.
On the flip side, my heart aches in my chest ( and I think my uterus joins in) whenever she meets a new milestone. Every smile and giggle, every time she claps her hands and jumps up and down in excitement, every time she says, "Mama," and gives me a big hug and kiss, my heart skips a beat. My heart quickens in my chest at my little piece of me laughing and dancing around the kitchen. I can literally feel my heart pounding in my chest, like it is trying to work harder to convey the love I have for the piece of my heart living on the outside.
It's a funny thing, motherhood. You spend 40+ weeks (41+ weeks in my case), waiting for that little baby to be born, never knowing that when your baby exits your body and enters the world, she will take a piece of your heart with her. When she is crying at 2 am, your heart (and let's face it, sanity) is crying with her...what could have happened to break her little heart?? (No, seriously, what? WHAT happened?)
When she runs up to you laughing and giving kisses, your heart knows, even if she can't tell you the words, that she loves you completely, that she trusts and needs you...and that you need her too. After all, you can't live without your heart, especially the piece on the outside.

Wednesday 1 February 2012

One Word

Time again for One Word Wednesday! I will start with a brief (well, as brief as I can be) prelude.
Miss S is obsessed with our new iPad. Particularly with the Pierre talking Parrot app. Basically, Pierre repeats what you say in a funny parrot voice. You can throw tomatoes at him, hit him, pat him, smash him with cymbals, and best of's free. Baby girl loves it. As soon as she wakes up she asks to play. If she sees a computer, she asks to play. Basically, she wants to play with Pierre all day long. Here is her with her most pitiful, sad puppy dog face...