Puddle Jumping

Walking has opened up our world. Charlie is back to being the most contented kid I know and the tantrums of month eleven have flown out the window. I guess it's pretty frustrating to be working so hard on a skill and just not quite be able to perfect it. He started walking the day after his birthday, and everyday I'm in awe of how quickly he's figuring everything out. But quite possibly my favorite moment of walking came today when I big storm swept through Austin. 

Charlie was taking a wonderful afternoon nap when the storm revved up, and while I was more than enjoying getting a little laundry done and sneaking some reading of Sedaris's Me Talk Pretty One Day (and dying of laughter), I was ecstatic that Chuck awoke before the storm rolled by. I scooped him out of bed, and we ate his afternoon snack on the porch punctuated by a series of "Wow!" - Charlie's new favorite word (and mine too). Before Charlie finished his grub, he was eagerly asking, "up, up, up" and pointing down the stairs. I figured why not, so we darted inside and threw on our raincoats. What an experience. Charlie's seen the rain before - when he was just a few days old it rained and rained and rained and sleeping outside in his dad's arms was his favorite place to be, but he's never really been out in it. Initially it was a bit startling, but this kid is the bravest tiny person I know, and it wasn't long before he was cruising through the yard and headed for the tidal wave running down the street. Glee. Pure joy. 

When I was little I remember parading around my circle in the storms belting out American Pie until I just couldn't get more soaked, and sharing this afternoon with Charlie was maybe my favorite day we've ever had. He's a total kid lately, and we're having so much fun exploring. Can't even believe rain or shine I get to play with this sweet, adventurous kid everyday. 

It's Charlie's Party

And he cried all the way through it. We'd been looking forward to Charlie's 1st birthday for months now, planning everything just so knowing we're on the cusp of creating this wonderful memory. We created a memory alright. Just not quite the one we'd envisioned.

Lets journey back to somewhere around month eleven when we had to take Chuck in for a sick visit on a Saturday. As we said our goodbyes, I remembered I needed to reschedule his one year appointment. I insisted we could do it on his birthday...what's the big deal...he'd never had any reaction to shots before other than being sleepy...I'm fine with him sleeping on his birthday...he'll be all rested up for his party on Saturday. Boo in your face, Kathryn. You're an idiot.

Charlie woke up in a great mood on his birthday. We had birthday pancakes and played with the decorations around the house, and for about two hours his birthday was perfect.

Then we left for the doctor. We returned home with three pricks in his leg, and he settled in for a wickedly short nap. Weird. We went to lunch with his GaGa and Papa, and returned home to no nap at all. Extra weird. We put him down that night, and he could barely keep his eyes open long enough to get his pjs on, but within the hour, he was up. Crying, shaking (chills...the nurse thinks), and manically hyper. Once I got him up, gave him Advil and started to settle him back down for sleep, he could not stop moving or talking. "Uh, oh, uh, oh, uh, oh, uh, oh, uh, oh...dododododododododododo...whasstha, whasstha, whasstha..." And as soon as we'd get him down within an hour or so, he'd pop right back up. By the time my brother arrived at eleven, Charlie was up for the third time, and John and I were at a loss. Lets just say the night carried on with lots of crying and little sleep. I'm not quite sure what happened, and the nurse I talked to swore shots don't cause hyper-activity, but I think I'll beg to differ. The next morning none of us where in party-mode, but Charlie took two normal naps, and we were hopeful he'd rally for the afternoon.

Nope. With each arriving guest, he grew increasingly agitated. We set up the party out back (Charlie's absolute favorite place to be), and he wouldn't even stay out there. He kept walking me inside to sit in his room. What a social butterfly. And while most of the party games were created with his older friends and cousins in mind, I thought he'd love digging in the sand or planting a flower. Nope. All wrong, Mom. He didn't want to play, he didn't want to eat, he didn't want to be sang to, he surely didn't want any cake, he didn't want any presents, etc. etc. etc. Everything was wrong and nothing was right. We got one smile the entire night when his friend Oli suggested they take a bath together before bedtime. Sweet, little two-year-old Oli knew exactly what he needed.

Admittedly, Saturday night and into Sunday, I was pretty disappointed. I'd poured so much stinking energy into making his party "one to remember" that I might have forgotten for a minute he doesn't really care. And while I've threatened to never do much of anything for his upcoming birthdays, I think I'll probably just skip getting his shots beforehand. What an idiot I am. What a freaking idiot.

Happy birthday, Chuck. They can only go up from here. I promise.

Party Favors - Plant your own flower.

Gnome Knockdown 

Digging for Treasure

Charlie's your Gnomie?

Twelve Months of Chuck

Happy Mother's Day!

What a year. Last year I felt like I cheated my way into celebrating my motherhood. I'd been mothering for going on 10 days when Mother's Day crept up on us, and I was still very much a new mom - nervous, exhausted and overwhelmed. Oh, what a difference 365 days make. Charlie's a totally different kid, I'm a completely different mama, and this day holds a whole new meaning. With a year of mothering under my belt, I have a new appreciation for ALL that moms do. A new respect for stay-at-home moms, working moms, and those of us who fall somewhere in between, for moms of multiples, for moms with more than one, and of course, for grandmas - mothering truly never ends.

I hope this day is full of love, laughter and whatever you wish the most for your Mother's Day. Much love to all of the AMAZING women in my life who make me a better mom everyday because they share their time, stories, and expertise. I wouldn't want to laugh, cry, share the joys and heartaches of this most important role with anyone else.

Happy Mother's Day, mamas!

Lighting the Way

Thirteen years ago today my favorite girl in the entire world was born, and my sister became a mom. My mom woke me up early that morning to tell me she was heading to the hospital and would call. Before school started, Madi was already here, and I called my new boyfriend, John, bawling and barely coherent muttering, "I won't be at school. We had a baby. What?! I mean my sister had her baby." I was overcome. This little person felt like an extension of me from almost the moment she popped into this world. Maybe because she was the first baby of a sibling or maybe because I needed the positivity that she provided our family. I don't know, but Madi is a source of light for me. And watching my sister mother is my inspiration. 

For thirteen years I've been absorbing my sister's every mothering move, and she is a natural - nurturing, active, involved, brave, cautious, and confident. She's firm but flexible, sets boundaries without building walls, and loves with her entire being. She's raised two of the most amazing kids I've ever met. They're funny, smart, polite, thoughtful, adventurous and kind. And while my seventeen-year-old self believed Madi was just an "easy" kid, I now know my sister is just an amazing mom. Her instincts, whether on discipline or structuring playtime, will forever remain my model. Jennifer's helped me realize that motherhood is one part instinct, one part consistency and one part hope. 

And while instinct and consistency come easy, emulating Jennifer's level of hope will forever be something I strive to make my own. Because of her hope for her children, she's made some tough choices along the life and parenting spectrum, and even though I didn't always understand her choices at the time, I've come to trust and respect that she's doing what's best for her, for the sweet kids. And I've seen first-hand how this hope can transform. I hope so many things for our sweet Charlie, but mostly I hope for the strength in parenting that my sister displays at every milestone, every new step. 

Thirteen years of the most wonderful girl I've ever met. Thirteen years of watching my sister mother. But probably only one year of truly understanding what that kind of mothering really means. Understanding how a kiddo like Madison really happens. Happy birthday, Madi girl, and happy mothering, Jen. As Charlie enters all his new phases, your example will guide my instincts, and your hope will light my way. 

One Year!

For about two weeks now, I've been in the land of "this time a year ago". It's a sickness. And I can't stop. Every year-ago thought blows my mind, and I'm fairly certain that this is how motherhood will remain for me. Time has flown. A year ago Charlie was just getting himself ready to meet us, and we were blissfully ignorant of what the night had in store. Today Charlie is a total kid, and we are settled in to the best routine. John and I are happier than we ever thought we could be - we have a little family and are totally excited about the day that we'll get to have more (not anytime soon!). This sweet kid has lightened our life.

Oh sweet Charlie boy. Where do I even begin. He's sweet, smart, kind and oh-so funny. He's beautiful, inquisitive and repetitious. He's feisty, spirited and confident. Every day he makes me proud, and it's my very favorite thing to tell him. Because I am. I'm so proud to be this little person's mom. I'm grateful every day that I get to teach him what this world around him has to offer, and his brain is such a sponge.

Charlie's talking more and more and more everyday. He says mama, dada, dan (Stan, duh), whatstha (what's that?), momomo (more), woo woo (woof, woof), uh-oh, up, down, dog, bye-bye (it weirdly sounds a lot like dead dog, if you can imagine it), and the list grows constantly. His frustration level has grown this month - tantrum-style...oof, but the acquisition of words has helped calm him a bit. I mean how frustrating not to be able to properly communicate, but he's learning and growing and verbalizing, and I love love love to hear his sweet little voice.

He's moving around at rapid speeds this past month. The crawl has been turbo-ed, and his walking is on the brink, but I think we've been on the brink for a couple weeks now. Two weeks into the month he was walking from the front door to me in the middle of the living room - a good 15 steps or so - so I called John inside, and we watched him walk and walk and walk. And since then, we've had a few spurts of walking on his own, but almost exclusively, he wants to walk - completely steady - holding your hand. And if you try to take your hand away, he melts down to the ground cry-ing. Oh life is so hard. Last week he walked all around Jiffy Lube, and today he had another solid spurt of walking around the house and the yard, but I'm not sure that classifies him as a "walker". When do I officially pen the date in the baby book?! I think he just wants to make sure he can run before he's ready to go out on his own.

Eating has undoubtedly always been one of Charlie's strong suits, and he hasn't slowed down. He loves raspberries, eggs, any kind of meat, tuna, oranges, yogurt, cheese, blackberries, strawberries, blueberries (seeing a trend?), applesauce, and any kind of bread product. He is totally weird about veggies. If they're in a baby food jar, he loves them. If I cook them and therefore he's forced to chew them, he spits them directly out of his mouth...well, that's if he'll even open is mouth in the first place. Not really sure what that's about, but we'll just keep trying and hopefully he'll catch on. I've officially started weaning in the last week. It started about half-way through the month because Charlie got so sick, and since my supply was low and Chuck wasn't eating much, his doctor said to try milk so we could get some calories into him and make sure he was hydrated. He took right to it, and I stopped nursing during the day. And since he was at my mom's this past week, she went with the milk routine too. We've kept on it with him back home, and for all intensive purposes, it seems to moving along seamlessly. He doesn't seem to mind the switch, and I'm proud we made it to a year.

Charlie's still at two naps a day - 9:00 and 1:00. I think our days might be numbered on these, but I tried to stretch him through his first nap one day last week, and he just couldn't do it, so I'm enjoying his daytime slumbers for now and letting him make the move when he's ready. He still goes down around 7:00 and wakes up around 7:00. He lays down without protest at home. We sit and rock, and then he just goes into his bed. Sometimes I hear him messing around in there for a bit, but he always drifts off to sleep and lets me know he's awake by banging on his crib or saying "uh-oh".

We partied this weekend and celebrated the heck out of this kiddo. I'm grateful that just like the day he was born he was once again surrounded by all the love that so fiercely embraces him. This kid. This life. It just keeps getting better. Happy birthday, Chuckster.

 

Get Out! (Week 7)

We got out last weekend, but in a totally different way. Our little family headed up to Dallas on Saturday morning to spend some MUCH needed time with my family and celebrate our beautiful bride-to-be of a friend. My mom and I joked before we even got up there that we should just leave Charlie with her. She was certain that one night would never be enough. I packed a few extra outfits and diapers, and sure enough GiGi decided that one night was not even close to enough time with Chuck, and John and I decided we'd like to try a couple nights away. We made plans to meet in Waco on Tuesday or Wednesday, and after Charlie laid down for his afternoon nap, we made the trek down south. We knew we'd miss him, and that it'd be weird to be home without him, but there was almost instantly something very carefree about being just the two of us again. We ate out wherever and at whatever time we wanted to and went for a run after John got home from work. I laid around in bed after I woke up in the mornings, and ran about a million errands back to back to back. Our time alone helped us take care of the small and the big in our lives.

What my mom and Wallace gave us for those 72 hrs is truly irreplaceable. Charlie is our very favorite human being, but those few days to ourselves made an impact. We got to recharge our marriage. Recharge ourselves. There is not a lot of time in our everyday life to truly focus on each other, and there were too many conversations during our time alone that started with, "What? I thought I told you that..." We were able to listen, engage and be 100% present in each others worlds. I read an article today about marriage - bits of humor, bits of reality - and one of the last paragraphs of the piece really resonated with me. I'm going to get the quote wrong and the person wrong, but the gist of it was that the best piece of advice he could give to parents is that if you want to be a good mother/father truly love your partner. John and I got a chance to get out and fully remember that love this week, and while I know it's not feasible in every situation, I truly wish every couple had the chance to do the same.

I toasted my best friend at her wedding with this quote, and the longer I'm married/the more John and I go through, I continually discover deeper levels of truth in it. "...to be happy [in marriage] you have to find variety in repetition and to go forward you have to come back to where you begin." - Middlesex

John and I got a chance to revisit our beginnings, and now Charlie's back, and we're all putting a better foot forward.

Get Out! (Week 6)

Blog neglect is in full effect. Week six's get outdoors was tainted by a miserable weekend of sickness on my part. I was pukey and pathetic, and in no way shape or form in the mood to be outdoors. Weird that Charlie didn't seem to understand or respect any of my wishes to sleep all day tucked warmly under the covers. Selfish.

Needless to say, we got out a little late, on Monday, but it was Earth Day, so it seemed like the perfect day to reenter the world of the outdoors and make the most of the beautiful weather. We headed to Redbud park with Stan gleefully in tow. And as I pulled in to the parking lot, I realized that just one year ago we were at the exact same park, but I was in a very different state. Whoa. Lump immediately in my throat (there's been a lot, okay A LOT, of that in the last two weeks) and tears flooded. I quickly recovered. No time for weepiness with my motor-scooter around. He was ready to walk (with my finger firmly latched into his fist) and Stanley was already in the woods exploring. It was the perfect afternoon, and just short of picking up trash or helping clean up a park, I think we did exactly what you should on Earth Day. Be outside! I hope you took the time to enjoy the day, the Earth and all that surrounds you great and small.