Letter to my daughter

Dear Amelia,

For your first two birthdays, I wrote you a letter on your birthday. They began, "Today you are one," and the next year, "Today, you are two."

12 days ago, you turned three.

This year, you have taught me about time. Time is funny--as the saying goes, the days are long but the years are short. Sometimes, when you were two, the days did seem long. But now that your second year is over, it seems to have passed in a flash.

I already miss your two-year-old self, and you are already changing into a three-year-old. You say amazingly smart, knowledgeable things. You are, shall we say, a little bossy, and sometimes even outright defiant. Your brain seems to go a million miles a minute. You are changing into a wonderful, brilliant, hilarious little kid, almost before our eyes.

Looking back, though, I think I did my best to savor the time you were two. Here is what you taught me about time. You were so much fun that I finally learned to stop, really stop, everything else to play with you--as you learned to play pretend, and do crafts, and do puzzles, and make up your own games with dolls and "small things" and books and a million kitchen utensils. I (again, finally) learned that you can only get so much done in a day, and to let the rest (mainly the housework) go. (It's true! Our house is really pretty dirty. I am proud.) I learned that a good day does not and never will include marking everything off of my to-do list.

Still, I am a little sad about how few blog posts I wrote while you were two. I know some happy moments and some milestones and many, many funny things you said have slipped away unrecorded. But I also know that while they were happening, I was present for them. I'll never be perfect at living in the moment, but this year, with my funny, sweet, fun-loving, fascinating two year old, I think I got a lot better.

Looking back over the past year, I especially remember all the fun times we spent with friends and family. One day in particular stands out--on a lovely spring day, we were at the Botanic Gardens with our friends Sarah and Navi, and you and Navi were busy being two, making a huge mess of our lunch, bringing tiny rocks to the picnic blanket, talking and negotiating with each other, and alternately climbing on your Mamas like baby koalas and running so far from the picnic blanket that it made me and Sarah nervous. And I thought how much I loved having a toddler, and how insanely lucky I was to be able to spend the days with you doing such wonderful things. You have given me countless similarly beautiful days--thank you.

Amelia, you are a joyful girl, especially when there is "something new." The year you were two was the year you learned about Halloween, about balloons, about birthday parties, about amusement park rides, about packages in the mail. "I'm exciting!" you said when you were excited, and you were excited about so much, including your first day of preschool. As I picked you up the first day, the phone rang in the school, and I could hear you exclaiming with delight, "All the kids said, THAT SCARED ME!" You are delighted in the world, and I hope that never changes. And you have given me more joy than I ever could have imagined. I love you, whatever age you are, and I always will.

Love,

Your Mama

First Day of Preschool

Amelia was very "exciting." This is how she says she is excited.

We have visited the school, a small Montessori-style school only 4 blocks from our house, many times over the past couple of months and weeks. Amelia was literally squealing with joy when I told her today was the day she got to stay there without me.

When I dropped her off, she accepted her hug and kiss, then looked at me expectantly. So I left.

In Honor of Months

For the first 12 weeks of your baby's life, you count her age in weeks. Around 12 weeks, most people move to counting in months and count that way for almost 2 years. After 24 months, it's more rare to hear kids' ages being given in months, although many parents still keep track (and I have definitely heard my share of moms discussing their "28-month-old" or even "34-month-old." In any case, on her last day as a 23-month-old, here is a journey back through the months of Amelia's life, so far.




Birth



Newborn, a few days old



1 Month



2 Months



3 Months



4 Months



5 Months



6 Months



7 Months



8 Months



9 Months



10 Months



11 Months



12 Months



13 Months



14 Months



15 Months



16 Months



17 Months



18 Months



19 Months



20 Months



21 Months



22 Months



23 Months

Two Years Ago Today

22 Months and counting

Whenever I have a birthday, Dean always tells me what I am divisible by. (This is someone who was "doing takeaways" when he was 3 years old, maybe earlier.) Today is Amelia's 22-month "birthday." At 22 months, Amelia is divisible by 1, 2, 11, and 22.

So...

here is Amelia at one month



and two months,



at 11 months,



and today, 22 months old.



The 22 month picture is blurry because Amelia at 22 months is rarely still. And I only had a cell phone camera. She is holding a Rice Krispie Treat-covered spoon.

As an added bonus, even though it doesn't fit mathematically, here is Amelia almost exactly 2 years ago today:



And this is what she looked like a few weeks later when she wasn't hidden by shower presents. Yikes.



Happy 22 months, Amelia! It's hard to believe our month-counting days will soon be coming to an end.

Lists, lists, oh lists

If the title of this post seems oddly familiar to you, you may be, or may have been in the past, a high school English teacher.*

Time for the final update on my July list: I didn't get everything done.

But, here are the items on the list I did accomplish:
cleaned out and organized my closet
cleaned off my upstairs writing desk
started running 3 times a week (for the past 3 weeks only, but hey)
learned all about potty training (really--ask me anything)
redesigned, multiple times, this blog
went to yoga 2-3 times a week

And, I did a ton of stuff not on the list, such as:
research preschools and Parents Day Out programs
put up an ad for a babysitter
reorganize the pantry and kitchen cabinets
start a book club
brainstorm ideas for a cookbook

The main things I did not do, however, might be the most important ones for any sort of academic career I might eventually ever have (although that idea seems less plausible the longer I am away from the academic world). I did NOT do any kind of work for the two baby ideas I had for non-poetry writing projects, something having to do with Southern Lit and something having to do with what I am calling "Motherhood Lit." I just don't have the gumption, the energy, or the motivation for these projects. I know a lot of writing opportunities come out of simply having written something, but I have a hard time starting big projects without some kind of outside pressure for doing so. Like a job. Or being in school. Amelia is a tough boss, but she doesn't require much in the way of written material. So I am slacking there.

I have been feeling kind of bad about it. I didn't even want to blog about it, and I have in fact been sitting in front of the computer for an hour NOT blogging about it, but this seems to be one of Amelia's longer nap days. I keep arguing with myself about the situation--see below.


Kim 1: Of course I am not writing much or working on anything all that serious. I am a Stay At Home Mom. My job is to raise Amelia. By the end of a day of playing, coloring, singing, talking about colors, repeating things one million times, getting in and out of the car seat, running errands, preparing wholesome meals and snacks, cleaning up bits and pieces of said meals and snacks from all corners of the house, patiently waiting for a toddler to put on her shoes "self," strap herself into her carseat "self", go up and down stairs "self," and who knows what all else, how could I even expect myself to create serious and insightful work on a realm of the world (i.e. literature) that truly has nothing to do with my life right now.

Kim 2: But you are a writer. And you want to be a writer. And writers read stuff. And also write.

Kim 1: (asleep by 8:30 pm)

So I am really not getting anywhere.

On the one hand, I love Amelia and Amelia is wonderful, and I really do love spending the days with her now. Although I have been so grateful since I stopped working that I am able to be with her so much, "I really do love spending the days with her" is not something I would have written a year ago. I found the baby months--sleepless nights, unpredictable days-- really hard. And now, things are still challenging, and I am certainly tired at the end of the day, but overall I am having a lot of fun. That's why I stopped looking for teaching jobs for the fall, and chose to stay with Amelia for another year.

On the other hand, part of me feels very isolated. When I think about it, which isn't often, I miss school, both taking classes and teaching them, very much. Long term, I would like to be part of the larger writing world again, but I have a lot of fears and worries about ever getting there. I am afraid of being lazy now and missing my chance. I am afraid I can no longer write a good poem. I am afraid I will never have the discipline to read all the stuff I need to read to be a good poet. I am afraid I will never find a teaching job.

And I am afraid no one is all that interested in what I have to say. Awhile ago, I mentioned the fact that I wanted my blog to be more than a "mommy blog." I had come across a piece of academic writing on "mommy blogs" that really annoyed me, but I couldn't quite figure out why. It wasn't particularly insulting, just a kind of study and description of "mommy blogs," but it really not on my nerves. Then I came across this article on the words "mom" and "mommy", and two and two came together. As the Orlean article points out, "mommy" as an adjective comes across as infantile, silly, even trivial. It annoys me to have a whole segment of writing women, most if not all of whom provide each other (and the whole cyberworld) not only with a mothering community but also with invaluable insights on both parenting and writing, labeled as "mommy bloggers." And it both offends and scares me to have most of my writing labeled as such. Offends me because I don't think most of what I write is trivial, even if much of what I write is primarily about Amelia. And scares me because maybe, in the eyes of the larger writing world, it is.

Of course if I really believed that, I'd shut down the whole operation, and here we are. I know these feelings are not new to women or to mothers or to artists in general. And I know how lucky I am, how hugely lucky, that my challenge is balancing mothering and writing, and not working and spending time with my child, or trying to put food on my table, or dealing with war or poverty or fear for my family's physical safety or innumerable other terrible things. I try to remember to be grateful for my life daily, even hourly. And I am very grateful.

Still, I know that part of me is meant to write, wants to write, and it waiting to do so. In the ongoing brave new world of motherhood, a different world every day, I think my upcoming lists are going to look for ways to be more of a writer too.

*It's from Hamlet, a play I read too many times with a great deal of teenagers who were uninterested in, if not downright hostile toward, Shakespeare. The ghost says it (or rather, "list, list, o list!") to get Hamlet to listen. I'd say it to get my students to listen. I was such a cool teacher.

18 Months

Amelia is 18 months old today. I remember holding her as a 3- or 4-month-old at the park, watching a mom with an 18-month-old. I thought we would never make it that far, and how great it would be when we did.

We did, and it is.



Breakfast



Wait--there's something on my hand!




She didn't want to wear this tutu, but we got it on her for a few minutes.




Happy 18 months, Amelia.

Dear Baby B,

I keep putting off this letter in the hopes that you'll have arrived before I can finish, but it's time we talked.

I haven't heard from your mom in a couple of days, but I bet she is getting pretty tired. I wanted to be sure you knew how much the world is awaiting your arrival!

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't blame you: I'm not a big fan of going outside in the winter either. And you are surely nice and cozy where you are. But there are plenty of warm, fuzzy pajamas waiting for you. And warm arms. And a big brother who cannot wait to see his little sister!

Baby B, your fans are waiting! We want to know your real name! We want to see what you look like!

You might be upset because you missed 1-11-11. Consider that there is still time for a great palindrome of a birthday. 1-13-11, 1-14-11. Still cool!

Baby B, the world is one less without you here. Please come soon! We love you already.

Your friend,
Kim

Diary of...Well, You'll See

I started this post at the beginning of this week. I had planned to do another week or so of entries before I published it, but it is getting kind of long, and changes are happening so quickly that it is already getting hard to follow. Basically, I meant this to be a record of our attempt to wean Amelia from nursing before bedtime and at night. But, as you will see, the week didn't go exactly as I planned...

January 3, 8 AM:

About two months ago, I signed up for a writing class that meets every 3rd Monday from 6:30-8:30 PM. It begins just at Amelia's bedtime. So for months, we have wondered what will happen when Amelia can't nurse before bedtime. We discussed and even planned on trying a nursing-free bedtime before the class started, but inertia and apprehension and the ease of the familiar made us never follow through.

But time went by, and tonight my class starts, but Dean will put Amelia to bed by himself. So obviously, there will be no nursing. I feel nervous, both about the class and about about leaving Amelia. But Dean is not nervous at all, so I am not too worried. I am sure it will work out some way or another.

January 3, 9 PM:

I am home from my class! I loved it, but before I could tell Dean anything about it I had to hear about bedtime. Amelia had her bath and stories as usual, then Dean moved into her bedroom and rocker her for a few minutes. When he put her in the crib, she was super mad and screamed. But only for a few minutes. He went back in to pat her and reassure her after a minute or so, then planned to wait 3 or 4 more minutes before going in again. But in the meantime--

she fell asleep.

He seemed worried about her crying, and I am sure it was that horrible loud angry screaming that is terrible to listen to. But--hey, only 5 minutes! This for a baby who is super attached to nursing, and who has been nursed immediately before going to bed and taking a nap since she has been going to bed and taking naps. Her whole life.

January 4, 11:30 AM:

Due to indecision, sleepiness and perhaps missing Amelia at bedtime I ended up getting up at 3:30 am to nurse Amelia back to sleep, and then she woke up at 5:30. I felt grouchy and discouraged this morning, especially since Amelia was tired and whiny and kept trying to nurse every 5 minutes.

But somehow, during the course of the morning, I convinced myself that now is the time to seize the moment and make a change. I I don't do something now, who knows when I will make a change.

I have decided I only want to nurse 3 times a day: first thing in the morning, pre-nap--but NOT as a going-to-sleep method--and in the late afternoon, say 5:15 or so.

So, this morning, in between distracting Amelia from nursing with cow's milk, pears, apples, cheese, a Nutra-Grain bar and who knows what else, I moved the glider into our bedroom. Amelia was concerned. She didn't seem to like it. Then, I kept A up till 10:45, even though she was super sleepy early on, from getting up so early.

Then, in the glider in our bedroom, I nursed her, for just a few minutes. Then we stopped nursing and read stories. She held her giraffe lovey as usual through the stories. After 3 books, I decided to nurse her just a tiny bit more, through one round of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." When the song was over, I moved Amelia into her crib. She was sleepy, but wide awake.

Angry screams ensued.

Butterflies in my stomach, I went back in after 2 minutes, then 5. She was standing up both times, clutching her giraffe, her little face all red and teary. I hugged her and said night night and laid her back down each time. I was waiting 10 more minutes before I went in again, but in the meantime, her angry screams faded to sad wails, then a tired whimper, and now:

silence.

I feel like this is the start of a brand new world.


January 4, 7:00 PM

Dean just put Amelia to bed while I made dinner. I made myself scarce and he did the whole bedtime routine by himself again. I was making dinner feeling a little sad, but mostly not. It's time.

Dean came downstairs. Upstairs:

silence.

He took in to the bedroom, gave her a little hug, which she returned, and put her in bed. She snuggled up with her giraffe, made a little noise, and--we assume--went straight to sleep!

January 5, 6:45 AM

Amelia slept soundly through the night until 4:30, a success that is overshadowed by the fact that she went back to sleep for only 15 minutes or so (after 5-10 minutes of crying). She was shouting and fussing again by 5:00, so after 15 minutes of that I just got up with her. I thought then Dean could get some more sleep, and to be honest I was ready to nurse.

When I went in Amelia's room, though, she was rolling around in the way she does when she is trying to go to back sleep. She sat up when she saw me, so I picked her up and we went downstairs. I sat with her to nurse, and she did--for about 20 seconds. Then she started crying and refusing my breast. "No, no," she said.

What in the world.

It quickly became clear that Amelia was not ready to get up. She is whiny and fussy and yawny. She was actually crying less in her crib than she has been since she has been up.

Her refusal of nursing has me truly dumbfounded. Yesterday morning she tried to nurse like 35 times. I was really happy with the plan of some nursing. Now my left breast is at least 2 cup sizes larger than the right and is leaking milk all over my bathrobe. And I am sad to think that I might have nursed for the last time without knowing it. Surely not. But who knows.

11:00 AM:

All morning, Amelia refused to nurse. I alternated between feeling sad and worried that nursing is over and surprised and relieved that weaning might be this easy. Before A's nap, we read books in the glider again. She nursed for a few seconds and then stopped, seeming to prefer to read. She patted my boob a lot while we read but refused to nurse every time I offered. Then we finished the books, and she said "Bye-bye?" like she does sometimes at night at bedtime. I said, "Night, night" and carried her into the bedroom. She was crying before we got to the crib. She screamed for a few minutes again, and I went in once but she had wound down enough in 3 or 4 minutes after my first reentry that I didn't go in again. After she was asleep I went in to check on her and her giraffe was on the floor. She throws it out when she is mad.

So sad.

To make matters worse I came upstairs to write this but before I did I googled self-weaning and 15 months and discovered that there is a such thing as a nursing strike. The LLL site I read (bad idea) gave me the impression that A could be not nursing because her feelings are hurt, something I actually said to Dean this morning. So now I feel guilty on top of everything else. Maybe she will nurse later. I really am not ready to wean totally. I was hoping for at least 3 more months of peaceful morning and afternoon sessions. But if it's a choice between not nursing at all and continuing the way we were going, with me being the only one who could put A to bed, or to soothe her at night, and with her nursing a million times a day with all of those teeth--then I guess I prefer this. But I am still sad.

Motherhood, will you ever stop being so confounding???

January 6, 11 AM:

I got over my worries (sort of) yesterday afternoon with encouragement from both my mom and from Dean that A is just probably ready to wean. Of course that didn't help my giant, swollen breast, but it was a start. And, I realized something amazing: I COULD GO TO AN EVENING YOGA CLASS. Gasp! I don't have to be at home to put Amelia to bed anymore!

So that is what I did. Dean got home at 5:15 or so and he and A left for swimming lessons, and I left for a yoga class! I was exhausted and hungry and very happy. It was not the most fabulous class ever as the instructor kept doing all of these cobra type poses that were not working well with my boob... situation. I just kept not doing those poses until he came over and asked if everything was okay.

"Yes," I said. He hovered, obviously wanting an explanation. I was not sure where to begin.

Finally, I just gestured to my left boob and said, "I'm weaning."

He looked blank.

"I'm weaning a baby," I said.

"Oh... okay," he said. "Let me know if I can do anything to help."

Okay, buddy! I don't think he understood what I said. Probably not something you get a lot of in the way of special conditions that affect your yoga practice. I was still super happy to be at a yoga class.

Anyway, Dean again put baby A to bed with no trouble. She cried out a few time last night, but only for a few minutes, not even long enough to make me wake up and look at the clock. She woke up around 5:20 or 5:30, and Dean got up with her at 5:45 when it was clear she was not going back to sleep. This morning, again, she said "No, no" to nursing, although she did try for just a second. I held her while she drank milk from a cup and ate Cheerios and tried not to be sad. She ate a big breakfast, a whole blueberry waffle with peanut butter and some raspberries and more milk. Then we went out to the store and she saw the Snap Pea Crisps I was buying and ate some of those.

Then we started a new activity, Mommy and Me Toddler Yoga, new to a nearby Denver studio. I am super excited about it. It was great fun. Toward the end of it Amelia got tired and clingy and...

NURSED

for about 5 minutes. It was a huge relief because my breast was swollen to the point that my whole arm hurt when I raised it over my head. And I really would like it if she would nurse just occasionally for a few more months. I am worried about what would happen if she got sick or something. Anyway, after 5 minutes, maybe less, I distracted her and we went back to yoga. On the way home she was falling asleep in her carseat just as we pulled in to the garage, so we came in and I did the stories in the glider thing. She did not cry until I actually placed her in her crib, but then she cried a LOT, a little over 20 minutes. It would be great if she would go down for naps as easily as bedtime, but naps are always harder than bedtime, at least for A. Anyway now she is peacefully snoozing and I am enjoying having a moderately pliable left breast.

January 7, 11:45 AM:

Yesterday afternoon, Amelia nursed twice more, once at the park and again when we got home, around 5:00. I temporarily abandoned the plan to limit her to the three times a day until she gets into the swing of the new routine.

Today's nap went better than yesterday. A only cried for 7-10 minutes. Bedtime continues to be a huge success. AND, Amelia is sleeping all the way through the night! I feel more rested already. Unfortunately, A seems to think the end of the night is at 4:30 or 5:00 AM, But when she gets up at those times, she is sleepy and fussy all morning. So that will be our next battle, I guess.

As I wrap up this week of big changes, I am very glad both that we have finally broken the pattern of nursing to sleep and that Amelia decided to nurse again, not only for my breasts' sake. I was sad to think that I had nursed for the last time unknowingly. I like the closeness and cuddlyness of nursing, and I like knowing that I have some milk in case Amelia gets sick and doesn't want to eat. It's still cold and flu season, after all. I would like to continue breastfeeding 2-3 times a day till 18 months, at least. Of course if this week has shown anything it's that you can't make plans with a baby. So we will see.

Hand-me-down

Here's Amelia in her green snowsuit last year





and Micah in it this morning.





He is an angry starfish.



Micah might not want to wear this coat next year...





Dads and babes on the way to the park

Trick or TrEATING

Trick or treating started early around here today. It's been getting harder and harder to keep Amelia still while changing her diaper, so this morning while I changed her I handed her a fun-size Twix out of the Halloween candy bowl that happened to be within reach. I thought she wouldn't be able to break through the shiny wrapper, but when I took it away from her, I notice that she was chewing thoughtfully.



I had to switch her to Cheerios and milk.



She's going to be a skeleton for Halloween. We are going to the park for a neighborhood costume playdate at 4:00 this afternoon. Then we are invited to a party at 5:00, but we will have to see how fussy Amelia is by then. We might just come home and give out candy, and let Amelia see the older kids in costume before dinner and bed.

Speaking of dinner, here she is in her costume the other night. She has been getting more independent about eating, and as you can see, she was eating her prunes from the jar by herself: first with a spoon (sort of), and then, when the spoon got too bothersome, with her bare hands.



Just for the record, here's Amelia last Halloween, when she was 4 weeks old.