And She's Off!

It's official.  Chloe is off and walking  running.  I say running now, because I am so late in documenting her actual first steps.  Chloe began taking a few steps a few days shy of her first birthday, but it took her another three or four weeks to completely transition from crawling to walking.  The exact date that she stopped crawling altogether was February 20th, which made hear nearly 13 months old.  Over the last few days Chloe has been running around the house. 

Once she figured out how to walk the climbing became out of control.  Chloe's sole purpose in life right now is to either find the highest point in the house and shimmy to the top or to bite Griffin's ears off.  It is a close race.  But seriously if I leave the room for even ten seconds there is a 90% chance that Chloe will be standing on the end table with both hands balancing out in front of her just like she is surfing.  She'll look right up at me with a little shit grin.  Chloe understands that if you are going to go end table surfing it is imperative that you are up and standing within the time it takes for Momma to throw away a dirty diaper.  In light of this, she often partners up with a footstool like her Pottery Barn chair, Laugh and Learn table, or, my personal favorite, Griffin's torso. 

Honestly though, it is so amazing to see such a little person running around our dining room table.  It is funny to watch her try new things while she walks like chug her milk, carry a toy, or try to walk over an uneven surface.  The best is watching her storm around the house naked.  Sometimes we let Chloe's bottom take a breather before we get her PJ's on at night.  She always thinks she won the PJ war when we let her loose.  She'll run around naked as a jay bird rubbing her belly and legs with her hands.  Then she'll run over to Griffin and climb over him because his fur feels so soft on her skin.  Griffin gets a really uncomfortable look on his face, because if you didn't know it is really gross to have your sister roll on you whilst naked.  Are you sensing a general theme here between Chloe and Griffin?  We have a VERY good dog! 

Anyway, it is entertaining as ever to watch Chloe get around the house on her own two feet.  She just seems way too small to be vertical.  I wonder if I will always see her as being smaller than what she is.  Every now and then the fact that she is turning into a big girl really dawns on me, and I'm always taken aback.  For example, I always play "fruit" with her, which just means that I pretend to eat the plastic fruit out of her grocery cart and attempt to teach her the names of the fruit.  So far she knows banana and apple for sure and is getting better at the rest as the days go by.  Well I always make a crunching sound when I "eat" the fruit.  She usually will just feed me the fruit and put it back, but yesterday she pretended to eat it herself.  She opened and closed her little mouth and made a munching sound.  It was adorable. 

Okay, okay, I know that you are reading this and are thinking *yawn* your kid pretended to eat fruit, big deal.  But whatever, it was cool!  If you don't have kids, just do me a favor and store this post in a little file in the back of your brain, because I am willing to bet a large sum of money that you are going to be excited about the same crap when you are in my shoes.  Besides, I'd rather listen to a dozen stories about poop consistency, food allergies, and pretend fruit eating than one of your stories about a dream you had last night.  At least my story actually happened!

Pure Beauty

I was just thinking of a conversation I had with a friend while vacationing in Washington D.C.  We were talking about newborn babies when she said "I think all newborn babies are gross."  As in, newborn babies are homely - not like they are so gross that can't even look at them.  In fact, she wants one more than anything.

Instinctively, I got a little defensive since Chloe was once a newborn baby and "all" implied that my friend thought my newborn baby was once ugly.  At the same time I totally understood where she was coming from, and I had a flashback to a similar conversation I had with my Mom and aunts just about 13.5 months ago when I was arguing the exact same point.  There was a time when I felt exactly the same way she does.  My aunts said "you say that now, but just wait until you hold your baby in your arms.  You will think she is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen."  Yeah, yeah.

I will never forget the moment when the doctor placed Chloe in my arms.  She was all gooey and whitish/blue.  Her hair was matted to her head and she was skinny scrawny.  But despite all of that, she was hands down the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on in my 26 years of life.  I know it is so sappy and cliche, but I'm dead serious.  I even look back at pictures of Chloe now from when she was a newborn and I still think she looks perfect.  It is just further proof that the minute you hold your new baby you are reborn a Mother.  You have a new set of eyes, and they are able to see raw beauty.  Pure beauty.  It is beauty amplified by the deepest love imaginable. 

So I can definitely say that I no longer agree that all newborn babies are ugly.  Some of them, maybe, but not mine.  Oh yeah, I'm that mom.  So I'm going to give my friend a hall pass, because I know she'll see the err of her ways in due time.  But if anyone else tries to say that my newborn baby wasn't perfect in every way I'll probably go all primal on your ass.

Wean and Weep

Wean and weep.  That has been the natural progression of things since I began weaning Chloe.  If you had told me a year ago that I would be devastated to reach the end of our breastfeeding journey I would have called you crazy.  After all, being a breastfeeding and working mother also means you are a pumping mother.  And I think I have expressed here that pumping is no fun - no fun at all. 

I started mixing in two ounces of cow's milk into Chloe's cup twice a day beginning at eleven months just to get her started.  After her first birthday I knocked out the two pumping sessions I have slaved over at work for the past year.  It is nice to not have to worry about packing up the pump, disinfecting the parts, transporting the precious cargo, etc.  But after I quit I realized the silver lining to pumping at work was closing my door and taking the time to appreciate that I was doing something good - no, make that great - for my baby.  It was nice to take a forced break since I usually rarely even stop for a bathroom or lunch break.  And it became surprisingly second nature.  It was just another daily chore that I didn't especially love doing but did anyway like blow drying my hair or flossing my teeth. 

It was strange, though, because immediately after I quit pumping at work I found myself to be just... kind of sad.  The minute I got home from work I would feed Chloe, partly because I was about to explode and partly because I just couldn't wait to cuddle up with her.  Since that was causing her to be too full to eat a proper dinner, I had to quit that feeding session, too.  It seemed like with every feeding that I cut out I kept getting a little sadder.  Like the amount of milk I produced was an exact measure of the amount of happiness I felt inside.  Trust me, I know this sounds crazy to any person who hasn't been here before, but if you have been here before odds are that you are sobbing at your desk just reading this.

Two nights ago I cut out the night time feeding, and last night I secretly cried before I fell asleep.  I fed Chloe this morning and stared at her the entire time.  I love how she looks up at me and smiles.  I love how she is forced to cuddle with me for that short time.  I love that I can sooth her under any circumstance.  I love how happy I feel to know that even if I don't know what the hell I'm doing most of the time, I know that I'm doing the perfect thing at that moment. 

I decided to keep feeding her in the morning until I leave for Washington D.C. in two weeks.  I know it will be so sad to call it quits for good.  But I have said over and over that I don't want to be that lady at the playground with a toddler screaming "Nursy, nursy!!!" while tugging at my shirt.  I know that I have to quit before she begins to demand it and doesn't understand why I am refusing her. 

Also, I know that my hormones have a lot to blame for all of the sadness.  Many women don't develop postnatal depression until they begin weaning their babies.  How wonderful it is to receive those extra doses of natural oxytocin!  We should all be so lucky!  I know it will take some time for everything to settle, and in the meantime I will be replacing my old pumping sessions with a brisk walk at lunch to clear my head and help boost my energy.  And hopefully someday down the road I will have another baby with whom I will share that incredible bond.

An Answered Prayer

Thursday night we had a health scare when Chloe's body decided to conduct the perfect storm.  She had a yeast infection in her belly button and *ahem* nether region, an allergic reaction to strawberries, cold symptoms, and most frighteningly, a huge and swollen belly.  I called our pediatrician after hours.  She was baffled by Chloe's swollen stomach and referred us to the after hours clinic known as G.R.A.P.E.S.  When we put Chloe in her car seat she began to gag an gasp for air.  It lasted for about 10-15 seconds, but it felt like a lifetime.  We were terrified! 

The short ride to the clinic felt like eternity.  It is easy to let your mind go to the scariest places when you are a parent.  I kept thinking how much cancer must be in Chloe's belly to make it so big.  How long did we have?  Would this be our last trip with her in the car?  Seriously.  I have never been so afraid. 

When we got to the waiting room Chloe started tooting in Paul's lap.  She kept tooting here and there for the hour long wait.  When we finally got in to see the doctor, Chloe's belly had gone back to its normal size and was soft to the touch.  The doctor looked at us like we were a little crazy, but we were like no, we swear it was huge an hour ago!!  The doctor thinks she may be getting gassy from the cow's milk we have been giving her.  She thought the gagging was from the mucous from her cold.  She thought she was fussy because of the gas and her cold.  She thought the shots she had may be giving her a small rash.  I think it may be the strawberries.  But either way, there was an explanation for all of her symptoms, and to say that we were relieved is the biggest understatement in the world.

Before we left for the clinic I fell to my knees in our bedroom and prayed desperately that it was God's will for Chloe to be a healthy little girl.  I prayed that I wouldn't have to see my baby in a hospital bed until she is a grown woman holding a baby of her own.  I prayed that we were just being crazy, nervous, new parents, and that the doctor would laugh with us and send us home rest assured.  I've been so distant from God lately, caught up in our daily routine, leaving Him out of so many decisions... but there He was.  A steady rock.  I sought the Lord, and He answered me.  He answered my prayer in the way I hoped He would.  I know that prayers aren't always answered the way you think they should be answered, and I'm thankful that I am not left questioning God's plan at a time when I'm often forgetting to thank Him for His plan in the first place.  It shouldn't take moments of fear to lead me back to the Lord.  His praise should always be on my lips.  And isn't that my job as a mother?  To teach Chloe to be a faithful servant; to trust God with all of her hopes, dreams, fears, and worries; and to thank Him every day for the most generous gift of all - eternal life through Jesus Christ, our savior.

Chloe - 12 Months

At her one year check-up Chloe weighed 20 pounds, 9 ounces. We thought she was more like 22 pounds. She seems so hefty lately. She was in the 40th to 50th percentile for height and weight. Her head circumference has finally caught up and she is now in the 60th percentile. People are so funny. Those who have babies Chloe's age usually say Chloe is such a peanut. People who haven't had a baby in quite some time think she looks big for her age. She is really just average, though. She had to have four shots, and while she screamed her head off she ended up doing okay in the long run. The doctor said Chloe was right on track and is a healthy little girl. Chloe loves middle aged men - anyone old enough to be someone's grandpa, really - and it is a bonus if you have facial hair. Well, this doctor had both things going for him, and Chloe was just mesmerized by him.

So much has been happening with Chloe over the past month that I have been at a loss for words.  She has pretty much ditched baby-Chloe and is moving ahead full force as kid-Chloe.  At twelve months Chloe has finally started to take some steps. Her personal best is about five or six feet, but her primary mode of transportation is still crawling.  She is so fast that I really can't blame her.  For a while there she got confused about whether she wanted to walk or crawl and came up with a quasi crawl wherein her butt protruded straight into the air, knees locked, hands and feet on the floor.  It was very entertaining.  At one point she decided to dance while she quasi crawled and I think she might have a future in rap videos - pop, drop, and lock it!  Don't worry, I'll never say that again. 

The other thing is that she just looks like a kid these days.  She has four top teeth and two bottom teeth with two more bottom teeth popping through.  So many teeth!  They really make her look like a big girl.  And her hair.  She has so much hair now!  I put a little pony tail in the back the other day, but Paul said it looked like a rat tail.  It was adorable and hilarious and I loved it!

Chloe has really started communicating with us.  She understands a few commands with the most common being "give that to Mommy, please" because she still insists on putting everything in her mouth.  There are a few things that she has snuck into her mouth that are just so terrible that I don't care to admit them here.  A few other phrases include: roll the ball to Mommy, Griffin, or Daddy; come here; are you hungry; do you want some milk; do a flip; do you want your cup; and a few others.  The other day she was pointing and grunting over and over so I followed her finger, and it turns out she was pointing at blueberries.  No surprise there.  But she was so thrilled with herself for showing me what she wanted.  Big girl!

Doing flips is her new trick.  I'll tell her to do a flip and she will put her head and hands on the floor and stick her butt straight in the air while she waits for me to flip her over the rest of the way.  Then she claps for herself. I swear it is the cutest thing that I have ever seen in my whole life and every time I just want to scoop her up and kiss her a million times.

You can tell that we maul Chloe at home because she is famous for giving what I refer to as nail-gun kisses.  She usually leans in for a kiss and then proceeds to give you fifteen more.  She says "mmbah, mmbah, mmbah" when she give kisses.  And she gives a million hugs.  She is so lovey. 

I know I mentioned that Chloe climbs everything, but lately she has been out of control.  She uses anything as stepping stool with the most common things being Griffin and her chair.  She will push her chair up to the end table and then proceed to climb on top of the end table.  Chloe had woken up super early one Saturday and Paul and I were lying on the couch while she played just "resting our eyes a little" and when I looked up she was freaking standing on the end table!!!!  Crazy girl.  We have to be more careful.

Here are a few pics of Chloe during her dreaded monthly photo shoot:

Like, thank God you are out of monthly stickers, Mom.

I'm walkin' outta here!

Tick Tock

I'm not sure what it is about having a new cell phone that always makes me feel like I'm so freaking cool. I can remember when I had my Nextel "skinned" in this clear red plastic, and I would sit there in my Pontiac Sunbird with the window down taking very important high school level phone calls and two-ways as blatantly as possible. One minute, let me just flip open my super cool phone, hang my head out the window a little, and then speak very loudly into this cutting edge cellular device that my parents are no doubt paying for. Unfortunately, this behavior didn't stop in high school. Nooo. When I got my pink Blackberry 2.5 years ago I couldn't shake that very important person feeling.

But of course all good things must come to an end. By the time my two year contract is up I can't wait to get rid of my cell phone. Right now I hate my Stupid Pink Blackberry. I let Chloe chew on it and "text" her heart out. I've been one of those faithful Verizon customers who has been waiting and waiting... and waiting for Verizon to pick up the iPhone. And now here I am on the final stretch to iPhone ownership. I preordered my little beauty on Thursday, and the tracking information says it'll be here some time over the next three hours. I have to sign on delivery and I mustn't take a shower, or give in to any other personal callings, until I sign for that package.

Man I am going to look so cool taking fake phone calls in the elevator!! Sorry, Chloe. Your Mommy is such a dork!

SNOWMAGEDDON!!

In the midst of our seasonal depression we were slammed with 16+/- inches of snow overnight.  Paul had considered going to work in the morning even after seeing his car. 

I talked him into staying. The news reporters were saying that if you go in a ditch that you will be stranded there for hours because crews were not responding to run offs. The newscasters were so excited to have something other to report about on Groundhogs Day. They were having a competition to see how many times they could use the word impact incorrectly in a sentence.  But I digress.  Paul shoveled and shoveled and shoveled.  Finally, when he was almost done, Chloe and I came out to play!

 

This is what our street looked like the morning after the snowpocalypse.

Chloe and I were trying to help shovel the sidewalk by pushing the snow harder into the cement.

Chloe's friend Fisher came out to play!  Fisher is almost exactly one year older than Chloe.  He lives directly across the street from us and they often have play dates while their mommies and daddies cook and drink adult beverages.  

It was fun to have a family snow day, but we are still looking forward to the spring over here!