18 months

preface: my daughter is now actually 19 months. i wrote this a month or so ago when i was having a pretty rough week with her. i didn't publish it because sometimes i think people bore of blogs about raising kids. but, after i sat down and read it, i realized i had already forgotten those days i wrote about. the things i thought were permanent ended up just being a phase. now, just a month later, we're in new stages, having left the old behind. it made me recall what people always tell you: time flies. it flies whether you wish it away or not. it flies on bad days, and on the days you want to last. i go through stages where i can't write enough, and ones where i can't get inspired at all. but i am glad that i write. because parenting is truly a roller coaster: constant ups and downs--little ones, big ones, smooth patches where you get to catch your breath. and ones where you want to cover your eyes and hold onto someone. it's an adventure. a grand adventure worth documenting. even if it's just for me.

enjoy!

***

holy. cow.

i think if there's one thing that i would have to say about parenting, is that it must come from God in appropriate dosages. we're in a bit of a rough sleeping patch right now (and there's been a lot of those lately) and all i can do is be thankful that i finished the work i had to do for the day and that i still have leftover time to sit down and blog for a bit.

on days when i drag my screaming toddler out of the farmer's market in the rain (on a day when--of all days--no one offers to help carry my groceries to the car), i think "how do moms of multiples do it?" i read another blog once that came from a mom of multiples and her answer basically boiled down to needing, asking, and accepting more help. must be. because that's the only logical answer i can come up with. the job gets tougher, you ask for help, and it's given out in the appropriate dosages.

my daughter--my spirited, funny, loud, curious, and independent daughter--was a good baby. i will admit, yes, we had it easy. by the time i returned to work at 8 weeks, she was sleeping 7-8 hours a night. she didn't cry much, no gastrointestinal issues, and was generally very happy. she was one of those babies that made people say "just wait--your next one will be a terror!"

{side note: why do people say that?! no, seriously. who goes around speaking things like that over people?? it's something i'll never understand.}

but now... now the toddler years are upon us. taking her anywhere is a battle. restaurants? out. grocery shopping? a joke. malls? well let's just say everyone will know that we are there. and she's not even two!! or THREE! which i sometimes hear is worse than two!

lord help me.

and the sleep. i think it's the one thing we parents are concerned with the most. probably because it's a prized possession. every night this week i've been up at least once with our daughter, doing what i can to soothe her to sleep from whatever it is--teething is my guess--that's waking her (and i can't tell you how grateful i am for extended breastfeeding in times like these--those nighttime sleepy endorphins probably save a lot of laps around the house, especially for a baby who HATES to be rocked). for this reason i try and stay away from mommy forums, especially ones where sleep is a commonly discussed subject. because everyone has advice and everyone has problems. i find it's best to just take your kid as it is, do what works best for you, and leave everyone out of it. and me? well. i could be napping right now, but sleep likes to play this cruel joke on you where you're not tired until 8pm, and if you even try to take so much as a 30 minute power nap during the day, you'll be wired until 11 or 12. and then your 22 pound, crazy-haired 6am wake-up call comes just a little too soon. a terrible cycle.

but as much as i can tell you how this is the hardest job i've ever done, there are so many things i enjoy about watching her go from a sweet little good-sleeping baby, to this little brain with a unique personality.

i have dogs. two of them. and i've had dogs my whole life. i'm definitely a dog person. and i guess when you're used to raising dogs, there are times when you treat raising a kid like training a dog (not something i'm super proud of, but i'm hoping someone out there can identify with this). repetition, reward, backtracking, giving up. and then one day, out of the blue, everything you've been trying to get your kid to learn, she suddenly knows it like she's been doing it her whole life.

this week was body parts and new words. months and months of "where's your ear" and "what is this?" with nothing but a giggle or frustrated wail before running off to empty my tupperware cabinet. this week, i asked her what cheese was. she said "chissss!" i asked her where her nose, ears, eyes, mouth, and teeth were. she pointed to all of them. we normally rely on whining, grunting, distressed guessing, and baby sign language as primary forms of communication (i remember this with my younger sister--my parents would come to me in frantic pleading: "dana--PLEASE tell us what it is that jennifer wants!!") well, today, we discovered that with the right prompting, when we ask her a question, she will reply with a simple "yes" instead of arms flailing like a monkey and excited grunts. like a daggum pro, y'all.

my goodness, she's becoming a person.

and she'll "chat" on anything that slightly resembles a cell phone.

and we have this comforter in our guest room with berries on it. she pretend-picks the berries and makes gulping sounds while "eating" them. and then she feeds them to us.

we (finally) taught that loud mouth of hers how to whisper.

she wipes herself with toilet paper (just mimicry, over her diaper, of course).

if we go on a walk and see other people approaching from a distance, she holds out her hand in that southern neighborly wave-ish fashion and rattles off some sort of jibberish in a very projective voice. like she's saying "hey guys! great night for a walk, huh?! yeah, it's really cooled off!" it's moments like these when i realize that only upon immediate passing that i would just simply lift my head and say "hey." she is her father's daughter.

she waves at airplanes and says "heyyy!" she makes objects pretend to be FA18 hornets (the blue angels) making a pretty impressive fly-by sound. before i had children, i wondered why people went to all the trouble to take young children to places and events that they wouldn't remember. when my 18 month old makes sounds like a blue angel jet, i know why. they are sponges. they are impressionable. and everything counts. everything matters.

with as rough as this week has been, it's also made me excited for what's in store. i can't wait until we can have actual conversations. until she's in that "helpful" stage where she wants to help me do things. or when she wants to do things herself (which i predict a lot of). i don't mean to wish away the present, or be naive to the troubles that come with a developing toddler personality, but looking back at where we started to now...

it blows my mind. if i really stop and think about it.

when babies are born and parents say "we made a person!" they don't actually mean that. what they really mean is, we made a beating heart, a tiny human that needs us for every basic need...that they also happen to be instantly in love with.

days like today--these are the days when i think "we made a person!" and mean it. she's her own person. and the more i find out who that person is, the more i'm intrigued. because there's an instant love with having a child. and then there's the love that grows on you. similar to the love that grows on you when you start dating "the one". every day you find out more and more and more and every day you're more attached, more intrigued, and more excited for what the future holds.

it is truly the greatest adventure we've ever been on.