Saturday, March 1, 2014

Month 10: The Screaming Soother-Stealer

My Loops,

You have officially lived in the outside world longer than you grew inside of me. All 21 pounds of you is lovable, huggable, kissable and smushable. You are so alert, bright, and communicative. You're so good at telling me what you need - especially if it's extra snuggles when you're not feeling so hot.

You learned how to crawl and pull yourself up in January; you practiced all February. You love joining me in the kitchen while I prepare meals - you especially love sitting in front of the oven and opening the bottom pan drawer. Open, close. Open, close. You don't tire of this task readily. You also love playing with measuring cups and spoons, and whatever morsels of food you can find that have fallen onto the floor. About every 15 minutes, you need a snuggle, and once you've gotten it, you're awesome at entertaining yourself again.

Something you don't love is when I need to take a shower. Usually, I try to shower in the afternoon when you've gone down for a nap (which happens, oh, about 75% of the time now). On those days that you refuse to nap, I simply plop you down on the bathroom floor mat with some toys and hop into the shower. Lately, though, you've taken to SCREAMING as soon as I disappear behind the shower curtain. You pull yourself up against the tub, and you SCREAM until I get out of the shower. It doesn't matter if I pull the shower curtain back and reassure you that I'm right there; you SCREAM nonetheless. Why am I writing in all caps? Because your screams are THAT LOUD! As soon as I'm done my shower and I step out of the tub, the screams stop and you're your happy little self again. I sure haven't figured that one out yet.

You're a social butterfly. You are so happy when surrounded by other kids, no matter what age they are. You're a soother-stealer, too. No matter who it is, if you see another kid with a soother in his mouth, you crawl up to him, grab it, and stick it in your own mouth, totally authoritatively. If the other kid tries to take his soother back, you're very resilient - you're not giving that sucker up without a fight. Why, again, do you refuse to take a soother to actually soothe? Such an anomaly, you are!

This month, I decided to finally start using the cloth diapers you received as a shower gift. I figured since you only poop every four days or so, and since you can go hours without a good diaper wetting, that cloth diapers were the way to go. It figures that the day I began using the cloth diapers, you decided that every single day was the best time to poop. Sometimes twice. I counted four on one day. Cloth diapers are a lot more work than disposables, but I'm emptying the garbage less and your bum just looks so cute in that fluff. If I'm not careful, I could end up dropping a pretty penny on some more cute diapers. I sure hope you have a little sister someday because a little brother would not look so cute wearing zebra print and fuschia diapers.

You're still a food monster, and you eat anything and everything I put in front of you, unless you're not feeling well. When that's the case, all you want is mama's milk. I can't say I totally mind. People are beginning to ask me when I plan on weaning you, and the truth is, I'm not planning it. You'll know when you're ready. You definitely nurse way less than even a couple of months ago, but it does amp up when you're sick, and I'm grateful that I can still nurse you for comfort. It doesn't feel right to me to have a planned weaning date. I even hope that when I go back to work at the end of April that I can still nurse you in the mornings and the evenings. But like I said, I have no plan. It will happen as it happens, and I'm okay with that. Not so sure about everyone else, but it's between you and me, my sweet baby girl. Oh, I can just imagine you reading then as a teenager, rolling your eyes, and screeching, "MOM! I can't believe you wrote that!"

A teenager. It's difficult to fathom that you won't always be my tiny (well, not so tiny anymore) baby. You're almost a year old; we're teetering on toddlerdom. My sweet, sweet, hippo-tooth babe.

Love,

Mama

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