eLLe - 13 months

Dear Luciya,

Today you are one year, one month, one week, and one day old.

Your second year of life seems to be suiting you - er, dressing you? - quite nicely.

You still only have those two little teeth, which didn't come in until your eleventh month, in the bottom of your mouth. We've begun brushing them at bath time, with the smallest amount of toothpaste. You dig it. You open wide when you see the tiny toothbrush coming, and afterwards you like to give the rest of your mouth a good once-over all by yourself (read: sucking the bristles for a while).

You are a sweet little summertime weed; all of you is growing. Even your hair. I finally had to bite the bullet a few days ago and cut your bangs. Pretty cute, though, huh? I saved the tiny lock (of course), and put it in your baby book.

Oh, Luciya.

You make me laugh. And lately, whenever someone else is laughing, you want to laugh, too, so then the other person wants to keep laughing so you'll keep laughing, and, well.... ha ha ha! You're a funny little Butter Face.

You're a little ham, too, and you looooove to dance. You'll hear anything with a beat, even an ad for a car dealership on the radio, and you bob your head and groove along in the car seat. If you happen to be standing, you bounce your knees up and down and shake your little bootie. It's like you can't resist it. Your grandad and I took you to the Saturday market a couple weekends ago and there was a small band (well, one guy on the keyboard and one guy on the drums) and you danced and danced in front of them until you drew a small crowd. Seriously, an older couple later sought us out just to meet you, ask about you, and even pick you up. You little charmer, you.

We've been getting used to some glorious weather lately, seventy degree days and all. So I went ahead and felt optimistic the other day as we got ready for our 9:00 a.m. Stroller Strides class, and I dressed you in a cute little top and capri jeans. Well. Naturally when we got to the park the blustery winds dideth blow, and the sky threatened us with heavy clouds. And, naturally, I had cleaned out the back of the car the day before, which had held no less than five of your jackets. So we borrowed a little blue vest from a fellow mom's two year old boy, and I managed to find a pink leopard-print long sleeved shirt, some too-small green fleece pajama pants, and a droopy striped beanie in the car. For the rest of the day, you were affectionately referred to (by me) as Hobo Jane:

The nice weather has thankfully returned, and you and I have been spending much of our days out-of-doors. We go on bike rides (loving the bike seat and helmet!), play in he parks (loving the slides!), and survey the land. A few days ago I brought a large comforter out onto the lawn, and before I had even finished fluffing it you toddled onto it, turned around, plopped on to your bottom and then to your back, where you lay staring at the leaves of the apple trees and pointing out the little green movements. Since that day I've brought the blanket out a few more times, and each time you take the opportunity to do the same thing: immediately flop onto your back and stare at the green leaves against the blue sky.

It's amazing how rapidly you're growing and developing. You've started talking! Well, kind of. When you wave bye-bye you puff out a whisper of "buh -buh." You said "duck" one day, and it excited us so much we try to find all the books that have a picture of a duck in them (and there are A LOT, let me tell you!), and we try to get you to say it again. Can we count it as your first word if you've only really said it once?


You're so curious. The world is your oyster, and your chubby hands are quite adept at prying open the shell. You've discovered a low kitchen cupboard that houses the plastic silverware and cups, and it drives your daddy crazy how quickly you can spread these things all over the floor to make a mess. (I personally think it's kinda cute, and the fact that you like stacking and re-stacking the cups is supposed to be good for your sensory-motor skills. Or something. Right?) You go crazy for a cell phone to open, shut, and speed dial grandma on, and your daddy and I always have one of ours on hand for your not-uncommon shriek fests. Yes, the screams continue, often piercing and always unwelcome, but I tell myself that it's got to be frustrating when you want to talk, you try to talk, everyone else is talking, but you just can't talk. Huh, baby girl. That's right. Hush now. No, really. Shhhhh.....

Since you've been in your big girl room you've been sleeping like a champ. You are napping once a day, and that's great, because it's a 2 1/2-to-3 hour nap (usually 11:00 - 1:30/2:00). And at night? Twelve, thirteen hours SOLID. Straight. I've had to wake you up on more than one occasion, and I've also had to leave you with your daddy in the morning when I've gone to teach Stroller Strides, because you were still snoozing at 8:15, when I had to leave the house. You go down right at 7:00, no fussing, ready and sleepy-eyed. The other night, however, you fussed for quite a while and when I eventually went in to check on you (for I always check on you, and probably always will, so there), this is exactly how I found you - upside down, with your tiny foot through the slats of the crib and your baby on your chest.

Sometimes as I watch you sleeping so softly in your crib I marvel at how big you have gotten. You are long and strong. Your legs have over the arm of the rocking chair at night as we snuggle before bedtime. (I am still putting you down with a bottle of milk, even though Dr. Angie really wants you to move to sippy cups exclusively. We're working on it, and you're doing well. But how will I put you down each evening without some warm milk in the rocking chair? I can't think of it.) Tonight I bent down to inhale you as we rocked. Your long, fine hair, still damp from your bath, smelled faintly of your Baby Bee shampoo. Your thick eyelashes fluttered over your smooth, chubby cheeks. You sighed, content. Oh, how I treasure these times.

I love you, Luciya!

Love,

Mama

-EY it is!

Thanks for voting on the pup's name, everyone. For a while there, it was a close race between Harley and Harlee. Then my friend Daina from Maui wrote in her vote of Harley, so the deal's been sealed.  With Daina's vote, and Ophelia's write-in of Harly, we got a total of 13 votes. My first reaction was, wow - lucky number! My second reaction was, thirteen people have read this blog? Hot damn, I'm almost as popular as my inspiration, Dooce! Maybe I could start raking in an esimated $40K in ad revenues each month! And then I thought, there's no way there are thirteen people out there reading this. Mom, did you vote three times?!

Anyway, Harley is... Harley. It fits. We like it. She's filling out every day, becoming a chunky puffy fluffer - all round and fuzzy. She is a literal shadow, and it's hard to take two steps sometimes without tripping over her super excited little body. She loves her pen in the basement and has been sleeping darn near through the night without a single potty incident! She and Mila have the cutest relationship ever - Mila has become very maternal. I'm going to try and capture some of their play on video so all thirteen of you can see it.

because things have been pretty dull around here

This Mother's Day, I got breakfast in bed, for the first time ever. It was as fabulous as I could have imagined, complete with a bouquet of flowers and crisp pepper bacon with the fat trimmed off (thanks, honey!).

I got special treatment because I'm a Mom (hooray!), and what (other) better way to celebrate being a mom than adopting another child?

Met Harley Davidson.


Harley is a six-week-old Border Collie-Australian Shepherd mix (or Border-Aussie) who was a complete spur-of-the-moment purchase by John off the back of a farmer's truck at the Sportsman's Warehouse parking lot to be the newest addition to our little family.

She is a perfect puppy: all fluffy-puffer and puffy-fluffer, with a white coat and gray patches, with blue spots in those patches (to match her pretty blue eyes). Her nose is a mottled pink and black. Her teeth are tiny and pointy and want to bite into everything.


We've been saying for quite a while that Mila needs a friend to roam the property with, and though we've gone to the pound a couple times and wishy-washed the idea at least a thousand times more, it seemed fate came knocking on Mother's Day and now Mila has a little sister to gently nuzzle and sniff, all the while thankful for the extra treats and attention she's been getting (preserving the alpha-dog thing, you know).

So yeah, we have a new puppy. A brand-spankin'-new, fresh-off-the-teat-and-a-little-confused puppy. She's nothing less than adorable, nothing less than a completely needy new little being.

We're crate training, which is hailed as the best method of raising a new pooch, and so far it seems to be successful. Okay, we've brought her in to bed with us the past two nights at about 5:00 a.m. because the mewling from the family room kennel completely disrupts our sleep, and I know that's a no-no, but just this evening I placed her in there after her outside dinner poop and she hasn't made a peep. And she's only pooped inside twice. And peed once.


Welcome to our home, Harley. I have no doubt you will be a wonderful addition. And the extra attention you require? No problem. We don't have anything on our plates besides raising a toddler, starting up two new businesses, planning a wedding, teaching Stroller Strides (me), working nights (John), paying bills, caring for an acre property (and its home), and - oh, yeah - watching over your big sister, Mila. But hopefully she'll teach you well and you'll turn in to a sweet, mellow, well-behaved lovey-dove of a dog-daughter, just like she is.

Hopefully.



By the way, I could use some help with the spelling of her name. We know her name is Har(ley), but is that too masculine? Should we write it out some other way? This is a HUGE decision, okay?! (See the poll at right.)

summer tease makes me feel fine

Ummmm.....


Who loves her new bike seat and helmet?

I know I thought Spring was just around the corner about 2 months ago, and it did a great job of fooling us on a few occasions (case in point:),



... but I think it's really here!

Check out this delicious tree in the front yard.



And I wish you could check out the lovely lingering twilights and the constant birdsong. Watch the birds make a nest in the little wooden house on the sycamore. See how lush and green the backyard grass is. Go without a onesie under your clothes for the first time ever.

This seasons thing is pretty cool, really. I won't say that I don't miss Maui, because I do. What I will say is that SEASONS ARE AMAZING! I mean, on Maui there is really little difference between, say, July and November. But here? You enter completely different worlds. Not to mention the flow of December into May. Was it really only five months ago that the heaters were cranking and we had to de-ice the front walk?

This was what the backyard thermometer read last Monday:


So we took a bike ride (Luciya's first!) all along the river into downtown, grabbed some lunch, and came back to the yard for some naked time in the sprinklers.


I know I've said I love the autumn and the winter, but Man, I am wiggly with summertime anticipation.

Dum-da-da-dooooo....... Hear ye, hear ye... Spring is here!!

big girl room

We did it! For the first time in a year, Luciya isn't sleeping right next to us.

Last night was her fourth night in her upstairs "big girl room."


The first two nights she slept fitfully and woke up twice each night around 2:30/3:00 a.m. Understandable. She didn't know what was going on, and it was probably hard to sleep without the constant rhythm of daddy's snoring ten feet away. The third night I made a couple changes. First, I left a nightlight on. Second, I dropped about four pacifiers in the crib so she could find one if she needed. (I've resigned my pacifier struggle. She uses them to fall asleep, and that's it. That's fine with me.) She slept 12 1/2 hours straight that night.


We are now huge fans of the big girl room. We can waltz right into our own bedroom at any time, turn on the lights, and flush the toilet if we want to. Luciya loves her new room, with all her toys and books within easy reach. Our favorite thing to do lately is read books, and I'll sit in the rocker and tell her to "get Mama a book," and she'll waddle over to the bookshelf, select one, and bring it to me so that I can pull her up onto my lap and read.


She has exactly two books that are her favorites, that she wants read over and over and over. The first is Rainbow Rob, which is a great story about a penguin who wants to be other colors besides black and white. There are lots of fuzzies and other textures to play with, and she knows which one is coming next. The second is Little Feet Like..., and it has squares of different materials, like soft blankets and cuddly towels, that Luciya likes to rub her bare little toes all over. Yes, I've read each of these books 43 times in the last three days. But it's just so darn cute to watch her wobble back and forth between me and the bookshelf, grunting as she hefts these heavy board books. (Even though my head is racing right now with Rob is black and Rob is white. No color at all, just dark and light....)


The new room still allows for other well-loved activities, too, like tearing all the clothes out of the drawers. Which, as we all know, is the most fun EVER.

the ragamuffin dance

Grab your bottle and drop your pants
It's time to do the Ragamuffin Dance!



Pull your hair and let it fly loose
Then bend over and shake your caboose!



Pinch your belly and give yourself a squeeze
Then reach down and touch your knees!



By the time you're done you should be huffin' and puffin'
That's how you know you're a ragamuffin!

eLLe - one year old

Dear Butter Pie,

You turned ONE YEAR OLD on Saturday.


I'm sorry I didn't write you a post sooner. Maybe it's because I've been so busy with your grandparents in town and planning your birthday party. Maybe it's because since your daddy went back to work I feel I don't have as much time to spend in front of the computer. Or maybe it's because I'm in complete, total, and utter shock that YOU ARE A YEAR OLD. Seriously, my eye just twitched.

Though I can't even remember the last chapter in the book I read before bed last night, I can remember in bright, explicit detail the events and hours of a year ago.

I remember walking out on the new and awkward doctor who insisted we go in for immediate artificial induction. Calling my angels at Haleakala Waldorf School, who meditated and sang deep earth songs and sent me in to labor that same hour. Deciding on home birth, calling the midwife, and laying a tarp under the sheets of the guest bed. Moaning through the night as contractions ripped through me and the doula held me as she slept next to your tutu. Waking in the morning, 14 hours after labor had started, to find I was only 3 cm dilated. And walking, crying, and screaming for 14 hours more until we went on the world's longest, bumpiest car ride to Maui Memorial Medical Center, where we were ushered in, I relaxed, and you emerged, blue-fingered and crying, 6 hours later.


I remember that first night alone in the hospital, you mewling for milk, me so exhausted, trying to figure it out, everything surreal. I remember the nurses shaking me awake after I fell into the deepest sleep of my existence the next morning, because the doctors had checked you and you needed to be fed again.

I remember the drive home in the morning, how your daddy drove so slowly and it seemed that everyone else in the world should be driving slowly, too. That things were different. Colors were brighter. Shapes were sharper.

I remember swaddling you over clothes that we thought would never fit - they looked tiny enough to clothe a doll. Stroking your silk-soft, hairy back and shoulders. Watching you sleep as you softly moaned with each breath, communing with your angels.

I remember it all. And it was all a year ago. One whole year.

And here you are, my dear - rambunctious, lively, lovely, intelligent, enchanting, long-haired (pigtails every day!), serene, wiser than I can imagine. You still wave to something in the corner that I cannot see. You still make silly noises in your sleep. I still check on you at least three times each night before bed.


You are a delightful - gulp! - toddler. You toddle. You wobble. You explore and tug. You're incessant when you say "mamamamamamamamamama," but it sounds so sweet as the first word you sigh in the morning.

You're a year old! Holy cow!


You've taken such giant leaps in the last few days since your birthday, both literally (figuring out how to climb down the step into the dining room!) and figuratively (drinking cow's milk!). The weekend before last your Aunties Trisha, Cass, and Kelly and I got together for our annual reunion (7 years strong! Way to go, mammas!) and I chose those three days to be the Weaning Weekend. (Actually, you chose it, as you'd been showing less and less interest in the breast and we'd gone 2 or three days without breastfeeding on a couple occasions). So we are now officially nursing-free. And it is much easier than I thought it would be! I thought for sure I' d be so sad, longing for your warm little body and smooth suckle, the bonding it produced. But I'm actually handling it just fine, I'm not sore at all, and the fact that you had begun biting down with your two mini chompers helped the transition as well. So. Bottles it is. And that's okay.


You also got a forward-facing car seat for your birthday and now sit in the middle of the back seat, looking out! At first you didn't quite know what to think. You look like such a big girl in that car seat! The only thing I don't like about it is that when you fall asleep, your heavy little head lolls onto your chest and it doesn't look too comfortable!

You're eating like a pro. It's fun; when we go to restaurants we can actually order you something off the menu! The other night you had some plain pasta shells and before that, bits of a crustless grilled cheese sandwich! You love to feed yourself and refuse any food offered you from a jar or on a spoon. I think you may have fed yourself some of Mila's dog food tonight. Well.


You have been a pretty good little sleeper. At night, anyway. For the past few weeks you've been flirting with the idea of taking only one nap during the day, and only in the morning, but I've had to put my foot down. Girl, you need your afternoon nap. Mama needs your afternoon nap.

We had a first birthday party for you on Saturday. It was supposed to rain, but we all got together and did a little sun dance, and sure enough, we were outside for much of the party! you scored lots of loot - toys, clothes, and books. You had about 10 of your new little friends over to enjoy cupcakes, which you immediately smashed right into your face. I put so much energy into planning the party and watching over the course of events that I neglected to take many photos, and we didn't get ANY video of me presenting you with the little burning "1" candle. Also, though all of your grandparents were there - even great-grandma Leona! - we didn't get a single family shot. Oh, well. The day is, I'm sure, ingrained in all our hearts and minds.


Since you were born, you've slept either right next to our bed or in the adjacent alcove room, where we can hear your every sigh and where, since you're such a light sleeper, we have to tiptoe around if we need to enter the bedroom or use the bathroom. So we've decided that as of this week, either tomorrow or the next day, we're moving you upstairs to your "big girl room." I am thankful I've had a couple weeks to get used to this idea. We'll see how it goes! And I promise I'll still be looking in on you at least three times before I go to bed.


I love you, Luciya! Thank you so much for choosing me.

Love,
Mama

due date - one year later

A year ago now you were due to arrive

Thought you'd be in me until you were five

You took your sweet time and arrived 12 days late

My whole world's been different since that date


My baby, my sweetness, my angel, my truth

I celebrate the first year of your youth...

You waited inside and my body turned round


Then you came from the heavens to this earthly ground


In the first hours the world seemed brand new

After the first week I still just stared at you

And you grew............

One month old and sleeping with grace

Two months old - Maui sun on your face


Three months old with pretty pierced ears


Four months old, smiling brings happy tears


At five months you're sitting and growing


Six months in mid-October, glowing


Seven months old and beginning to crawl


Eight months - naked time feels best of all


At nine months your tenth airplane ride


Ten months - your mouth has two teeth inside!


Eleven months old and walking around


Almost a year and my awe is profound

I love you, Luciya!

Love,

Mama

boo!

A girlfriend and I were in a coffee shop the other day. It was our first time out since Luciya began walking; hence, she was everywhere. At one point I caught up to her near the table of the parents of another one-year-old. "She is so cute!" the mom said to me. Then the dad said, "She looks like a Disney cartoon character."

Ummm... thanks?

"Yeah!" said a third woman, "She looks like Boo!" And everyone at the table adamantly agreed. "Definitely! Boo!"

Boo, apparently, is from a Pixar movie called Monsters Inc. I've heard of it, but never seen it. This is Boo:

Here is Luciya on Easter. Does anyone else see the resemblance? 

Or do I need to go back to that coffee shop and kick some ass?