Poky Puppy

Recently we rented The Poky Little Puppy book from the library.  This was my FAVORITE book when I was a little girl. I was so excited to read it to Lily!  Sure enough, Lily loves it too.

However, 35 years down the road and my taste in books must have changed because seriously.  This book is the worst!  So boring, and repetitive, and the mom dog has an attitude problem.

But we read it a lot because I can't resist Lily holding it and sweetly asking "poky widdle puppy, mommy?"...reading all about how the puppies sniffed the air and smelled rice pudding and rushed home through the hole under the fence they had dug and their mom was mad...on and on and on until I returned the book early just to stop reading it for the love of God.

Last night, Lily climbed up her slide in the back yard.  She paused.  She started sniffing the air.  Sniff sniff sniff.  Finally, I said "What are you sniffing, Lily Mae?"

"RICE PUDDING!!" she yelled, slid down the slide, and started running for the door.

Ok, seriously.  That was adorable.

The Feels

I've always been an extremely laid back, optimistic, positive, go with the flow, no-biggie, whatev kind of person.  I remember one day a friend was driving down a one-way street the wrong way.  Cars are headed towards us.  I casually said, "You're going the wrong way." as she proceeded to panic. Ha!

I've always liked that about myself.  Even through a divorce, a job layoff, family illnesses, I remain positive and laidback without even trying.  

Then I had Lily.  And all of that is still there (Thank God!) with one exception: I feel more deeply than I used to. I worry more than I ever have.  I think about the future, and consequences, and pros/cons. And while, as a whole, I love it - it's nice to feel like an adult on occasion, at the tender age of 37 - it's also exhausting.  

I saw a children's book at the library called "If I could keep you little".  The title alone made my eyes sting with tears.  Of course I open it up.  And I read: 

If I could keep you little,I'd tell you stories every night.But then I'd miss you readingThe words you've learned by sight.
.....

If I could keep you little, I'd keep you close to me.   But then I'd miss you growing into who you're meant to be.

And I started ugly crying.  And then I CHECKED OUT THE BOOK because what better way to continue torturing my poor, mushy heart then by reading this book to Lily for the next two weeks?  

I blinked.

369 days have gone by since my last post. Since then, my baby turned 1, and now my baby has turned 2.  Lately, I have been missing writing about her.

I handled her turning one year old just fine.  But two years old has shook me a little.  I want time to slow down.  I want to bottle up her two-year-old self and never ever let her get big.  I look back at videos and pictures from a year earlier and yearn for her to still have those big chubby cheeks and thighs.  It doesn't help that my oldest stepson attends Navy Nuke school and lives in Charleston, SC now.  My middle stepson leaves for the Army National Guard in a matter of weeks.  Our family of 6 will be a household of 4 soon.  Eep.

Lily's 2nd birthday party was over the weekend.  When she woke up, I remind her: people are coming over, and they may be bringing presents.

"What will you say to them?"  I asked.
"Fank you.  Bess you..And....And...I wuv you."   

Perfect!

Baby Steps

Up until yesterday evening, we hadn't really encouraged Lily to start walking. 

Those precious first steps are also the steps into toddlerhood, and I don't think any of us have been ready to give up our baby Lily just yet.

She loves walking while holding your hand, or while pushing a toy in front of her.  She has taken a step or two on her own, but I am choosing not to count those.  They were more like stumbling from one person's arms to another's out of necessity.  :) 

Last night, we practiced with her for a while.  She would toddle from Brian to me and back again with very limited success.  Sometimes she would immediately collapse when we let go of her.  Other times she would lunge at one of us face first.  And then one time she took a good solid four steps.  The entire time she was cracking up, giggling, squealing - she couldn't stop laughing!  She realized she was doing something new and couldn't contain her excitement.  For that moment in time, my heart seemed to double in size.   

So, although I have been dreading this new skill for quite some time, last night I saw a glimmer of why I should be excited about it too.  This little girl went from a floppy, helpless newborn to a confident, hilarious little walker in about a year....or a blink of an eye.

Running with a Baby

A friend and I decided to meet up and jog together one evening with our babies.  Here's how that played out:

4:50 p.m. - feed Lily a bottle
5:00 p.m. - change Lily
5:05 p.m. - wrestle with jogging stroller and manage to stuff it in the trunk
5:10 p.m. - pack diaper bag with baby sunglasses, sippy cup with freshly-squeezed orange juice/water, snacks, and all the rest of the usual stuff
5:15 p.m. - drive to East Peoria
5:30 p.m. - arrive at destination.  Friend is not there.
5:31 p.m. - notice baby swing nearby.  From the swing, I should be able to see Friend when she pulls up.  YAY!
5:37 p.m. - Haven't seen Friend.  Hmm.  Take Lily out of baby swing, walk back to parking lot.  Friend is waiting for me.  Whoops.
5:38 p.m. - Put both our babies in strollers, hand them juice, snacks, sunglasses, pacifiers, etc.  Ensure we have our own water bottles, car keys, etc.
5:42 p.m. - Start jogging!  This was such a great idea!
5:45 p.m. - Get our first "Good job mamas!" from a passing jogger.  Feel like a glamorous, fit, perfect mom.
5:46 p.m. - Jogging sucks. 
5:47 p.m. - Seriously.  How did I run 20 miles before?
5:48 p.m. - Walk break!  (Maybe not so fit, glamorous, and perfect after all.)
5:50 p.m. - Realize we have to head back because I have to interview a nanny.
6:00 p.m. - Get back to car.
6:03 p.m. - Unload babies, put all the stuff back into the diaper bag, wrestle with the freaking stroller again.  Shove everything in trunk. 
6:19 p.m. - Arrive home.

Over an hour of planning, tasks, and driving for 18 minutes of running and chatting.  Worth it!  See ya again on Thursday, Sara. 

When Angels Are Near...

"When angels are near, feathers appear"

I have heard that saying many times before and anytime I see a feather, even in an obvious a-feather-makes-sense-right-about-now place (like by a pond with ducks nearby) I still think of that saying and smile at the thought of an angel nearby.

On Saturday morning, we heard Lily waking up in her room and Brian went to go get her.  We have a weekend ritual where we get Lily from her crib and bring her into bed with us where we snuggle, she plays with the television remote, climbs all over us, and we lazily enjoy her until hunger eventually forces us to get out of bed.

On this Saturday, I noticed right away she had a white feather in her hair.  There is no logical explanation why that feather would be there.  We don't own feather pillows or comforters.  She had a bath before bedtime.  She sleeps with a hot-pink monkey.  None of her stuffed animals have feathers on them, and her crib sheet was clean. 

Of course my mind immediately went to that saying.  I'm choosing to believe an angel visited Lily last night.  And I thank them for keeping her safe while we all slept peacefully. 

Peaceful

I'll admit it --- I typically love getting up in the middle of the night with Lily.  Although BHop has always been willing to do his fair share, I've probably only taken him up on the offer a handful of times.  For one thing, Lily is a perpetually happy baby so it's quick and easy to put her back down to sleep.

Plus, living in a house packed to the brim with two adults, three teenage boys, a baby, and a Chihuahua, peacefulness is not always easy to find inside our home.  Although it took me awhile to adjust from my quiet single-girl living, I have grown to love having a home full of energy and noises.  But in the middle of the night, when Lily wakes for a bottle or a diaper or simply just a snuggle, the quiet peace is just beautiful. There's no microwave beeping, or doors being flung open, or bickering or laughing or video games playing or televisions blaring. 

For a while now, Lily has slept straight through the night from 7:30 p.m. to 7:30 a.m. - but last night she woke up at 2:00 a.m.  I shuffled to the kitchen to fix her a bottle, went into her room, changed her diaper, and we settled into our chair in the corner.  She drank a full bottle.  Typically at that point, she would start wiggling and squirming, I'd put her in her crib, and she'd conk out. 

But on this night, she curled up in my arms, and just stared into my eyes.  She smiled and whispered "mamama" and made little kissy noises with her lips.  She rested the full weight of her head against my chest and didn't move an inch.  So, there we stayed.  Curled up in the chair, making each other smile, me watching her eyes crinkle in the corners and her studying my lips as I made a new sound she was trying to figure out.  We sat there for close to a half hour, until both our eyes started to grow heavier and I reluctantly put her in the crib.

As I climbed back into bed, BHop sleepily said "You shoulda woke me up, I would have gotten up with her."

"Nah, that's OK."