Month 11: My Sweet Toothy Hippo Girl

Lexi,

Let's talk. Let's talk about how you are such a fantastic communicator. Although your only words are still "Mama" and "Da", you are apt at using your hands, face, voice, and entire body to let us know what you need. You put your arms up for "up", you pull at your bib when you're done eating (not to mention throwing little fits at your high chair to let Mommy and Daddy know that YOU ARE DONE WITH ALL THE FOOD!), you pull yourself up in the tub when you're done your bath... and you cry, cry, cry to let us know that you're awake and you need someone to come get you out of your crib RIGHT NOW! Yes, you are the most insistent, stubborn little girl I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, and it's part of your charm. I look so forward to seeing how that plays out as you grow older.

Not only do you love communicating; you love interacting with others. Your face lights up when someone new shows up, especially if it's Daddy coming home from work, or Grandma and Papa coming by for a visit. You spent an afternoon with your cousin Link a few weeks ago, and you played so well together. You know your place in the hierarchy of age; if you're with older kids, you observe them and try to do what they're doing; if you're with kids younger than you, you're a little bit more confident (especially with the soother stealing - yeah, that's still a thing.) You definitely adore being around older kids, and it's amazing to watch how older kids step up to the plate when you're around - offering you toys, playing with you, trying to teach you things. There is, however, one interaction this March that left you quite unhappy: Shooter, the Brooks Bandits' hockey team's mascot. He scared you. He scared you so badly that you kept looking from Daddy to Mama and back, your lower lip trembling, until you burst out in tears. And Daddy and Mama just laughed and laughed and laughed. Is that mean? Who knows... it was hilarious in any case.

This month was an abnormally cold March, so although I was looking forward to spending some time outside with you, we were cooped up the entire month. Not that I mind; I've been able to get lots of Netflix time in, and you're usually pretty content to play with a variety of toys. You're especially fond of balls: you have a big blue one from Karli, a smaller purple one, and a smaller Finding Nemo ball. You also love your Baby Einstein piano, and this one cell phone toy with a barking dog and meowing kitty - and a really annoying song that I definitely can sing by heart. This particular cell phone, however, has dying batteries, so it sounds possessed most of the time. It's actually kind of scary.

Your personality is shining through more and more, and the way I see it, there are two distinct parts of you: the crying, whining, communicative side, and the social, happy, cute, flirty side. You know how to be absolutely adorable. I took you to Calgary at the beginning of the month because I had an appointment with a dermatologist, and you just crawled around that office, getting your hands on everything, looking around at all the other patients in the waiting room with a big, toothy, lopsided grin on your face. Oh, that toothy grin. I can't get enough of your little hippopotamus teeth (and I am thanking God that they are coming in straight so far! But where's that eighth tooth, the little one on the bottom right? We're still waiting for it!) You are adorable and so, so charming.

One of the best parts about this eleventh month has been your sleeping patterns: you've been sleeping through the night! I'm not counting how many times in a row because I don't want to jinx it, but girl, it's pretty amazing to be able to put you down to sleep at 9:00 pm and not worry about you until 6:30 in the morning! I'm feeling so well rested and grateful for those full nights. They make the teething nights (when you wake 3, 4, sometimes 7 times) a little bit more bearable.

But don't tell anyone I said that.

I love you so much, my sweet, toothy, hippo girl.

Love,

Mama

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

Month 9: Crawling!

Loops,

 

Your nickname keeps changing. Just like you. As I write this, you're busily working your way around the living room, moving from one toy to the next. That's right, moving. On Friday, January 10, I had some girlfriends over to play cards. Imagine my surprise when Buffy commented, "Hey, Olivia, how long has Lexi been crawling for?" I was floored. You've been working on it for at least two months. Your daddy and I were positive that you'd be crawling by Christmas, but the season came and went and you were still doing your butt-in-the-air wiggle dance, but you just couldn't master the knee-hand reflex. Now that you've started, it's amazing how quickly you've mastered it. I have to keep a constant eye on you, or you'll get into anything you see. I've already caught you putting grout from our crumbling floor tiles in your mouth. I'm sweeping the floors at least once a day. You still manage to find the strangest things to put in your mouth, though. I'm pretty sure you ate a dead maple bug the other day.

 

Not only are you crawling, you've mastered pulling yourself up, too. I think we anticipated the crawling so much that we didn't realize how soon after pulling yourself up would come. It's special: when you need your mommy or daddy, instead of waiting for us to come to you, you come to us, pull yourself up to the chair or couch, and give us those sad eyes and contorted little mouth. How can I not pick you up and snuggle with you? Speaking of which, here you come for some much needed snuggles after a particularly rough night.

 

You've been sick for just under a week now - cough, cold, and lots and lots of snot. The snot bubbles that form at your nose are hilarious. It's exhausting how needy you get when you're sick. You nurse at least three times an hour - even if it's just for 30 seconds - but you need your comfort. I get flak from people for not putting you on rice cereal to fill you up before bed, and I'll admit that I complain that you're still up at least twice a night to nurse, but in my heart of hearts, I know I'm doing the right thing for you. Sometimes, through my exhaustion, I wonder if it really is the best thing, but then you give me a seven-hour stretch of sleep and I know it's all worth it.

 

We finally moved you to your crib at the beginning of the month. I think the transition was harder on me than it was on you - immediately, you began flipping yourself over to your tummy to sleep, something you'd been unable to do in your bassinet. It scared me a bit at first because of the SIDS scares over tummy sleeping, but your sleep has gotten better - for the most part. When you're sick, you barely sleep. It's been really, really rough on me and your daddy. I am so tired right now - just as tired as when you were a newborn and we were adjusting to life with a lack of sleep.

 

We also had another big milestone - I left you overnight for the first time with your daddy. He wouldn't give me any details on the night except it went really, really badly, but the day apparently went well. I can't tell you how much my heart jumped when I came home, you saw my face, and you just SCRAMBLED across the floor to me. I almost cried.

 

This month we also had a family bout of what I think was food poisoning - it started on a Wednesday night when you woke up with throw up all over your crib and in your hair. It was heartbreaking, and I've never wanted to snuggle you more. I sat on my chair with you curled up in my arms, and you just stared up at me with sleepy eyes that eventually closed. I loved holding you in that instance.

 

Apart from these past few days of being sick, you're an eating machine. You love your little chicken strips and broccoli, and you'll try anything new. Giving you quinoa, however, may not have been the best idea. While the look on your face was hilarious, it was a horrible clean up job. Others are always amazed at how you'll eat anything!

 

Applause for you, my crawling, pulling, clapping, and waving baby girl. I'm so sorry for all the times when I'm not the best mom I can be. You are so full of life that sometimes I'm exhausted by it. No matter my mood, I always love you. And I know you love me - the adorable "mamamama"s tell me so.

 

Love,

 

Mama

 

Month 7: My Little Person

Lexi Loopity Poopity Bear,

You are awesome. Let me begin by just pointing out that despite the fact that you've been waking up every two hours during the night, the days make up for it in their entirety.

You know me.

You know my voice. You respond to me in so many different ways. You look at me intently; you cry when you see me after we've been separated for a while.

I've been working at a local gym, and I leave you with Jen every Thursday. Jen adores you, and you adore her. You never cry when you're with her, and never worry when I leave you with her. She plays with you - you're especially fond of her big plastic bin of toys that used to belong to her own kids, especially a bear that sings and that gosh darn yellow toothbrush. I bought you one of your own toothbrushes on eBay but I lost it at the Rec Centre one day while getting you all snuggled up in your carseat. Whoops.

This month really saw you emerge is a social butterfly. You love spending time with other children, especially those a little bit older than you. You watch them, then flap your arms around excitedly. You haven't yet made strange, and you were even cool as a cucumber when you met Santa - you were more excited about the bells on his wrist than anything else.

You also developed the ability to sit up on your own, without any assistance at all - and within a matter of days you were able to catch yourself if you began tipping over (this wasn't the case at first, and it was very, very hilarious to watch.)

You've also begun eating two big meals a day - a breakfast and a supper. You're still nursing a lot, although I can tell by the... um... consistency of your diaper gifts that you're actually digesting solids instead of just letting them pass through your system. Watching you eat is hilarious. You grab the food, bring it to your mouth, and sometimes it makes it in; other times it doesn't. Most of the food ends up at your sides and smushed up against your high chair, but it's evident that at least some is making it into your tummy! You won't let anyone spoon feed you - you need to grab that spoon yourself and bring it to your own mouth. Usually the applesauce or whatever you're trying slips down your chin, but the effort is definitely there.

Every month keeps getting more and more interesting. You're becoming increasingly mobile, more skillful with your hands, and more social. You're growing and changing and learning before my very eyes. As much as I can't wait to see what tomorrow has in store, I think I'll keep trying to revel in the present - and that means getting off of this computer and bringing myself down to your level - let's go play on the floor!

Love,

Mama