Friday, January 20, 2012

Vintage Supahmama

September 26th, 2009

Pretty pretty princess... you're less than 4 months away from the big one. THE BIG ONE. Quit growing up so fast on me! Where has the time gone? I have attempted to savor every minute since you've been around, but eight months? The time has sadly zoomed right past us and I miss those days where you slept heavily on my chest and your drool dripped down your chin. Who am i kidding? Your drool STILL drips down your chin because your gums blatantly refuse to produce any more teeth, but your mouth is resistant to believe this to be true.

Right now you are sitting next to me contemplating as to whether or not you should pull up on this half empty laundry basket or pull everything out of it. I can tell this is going to be a very long day already. Do you know how you got to this basket? I'd originally placed you halfway across the room from me, but you found me dangit and CRAWLED over here to me. Mommy is always near something you can get into and you know it. It's like you've got a baby sixth sense or something... Last night, Daddy and I went to bed and you woke up. When I put you back down you wanted nothing to do with being in your bed, which is understandable seeing as you could SEE your Daddy asleep RIGHT THERE. RIGHT THERE, MOM! PUT ME BACK IN YOUR BED!!! I let you fuss for a minute (because I obviously want to traumatize you for life) and when I came back into the room you were standing and waving your arm at the Daddy like you were telling on me. That wasn't the last time I'd find you standing last night. Seriously? stop it already. You're acting your 8 months old or something. Well, there goes all that clean laundry... thanks, Princess.

You "talk," giggle, clap, patty-cake, dance, feed yourself, crawl, pull up, stand, and annoy the snot out of your brother now that you can get to his toys. HIS toys and don't you ever forget it. We've got a secret for him, though, don't we sister? Come December we're going to break his soul by giving YOU a ton of toys and then a month later? On your birthday? We're going to give you MORE toys. But unlike your brother, I have a sneaking suspicion you'll actually share yours. You're really pretty nice like that. You are still under the impression that brother created the cosmos and he can seriously still do NO wrong. Even when he wipes your kisses away at night. Don't tell him we told everyone, but he loves you. He shares his snacks with you even though we have to explain to him that you've only got 2 teeth and aren't "great big" like him. He pushes you around in your walker even though you want him to STOPPPPPP! YOU PASSED DADDY! He dances harder and barks louder when he hears you laughing and paying attention to him. The two of you even chit-chat at dinner and giggle at whatever jokes the two of you can tell each other at this point in your lives. Now if only you could talk him into handing over some trucks to you when he's playing instead of leaving you hanging two feet away from him with the biggest saucers for eyes we ever did see, we just might get things accomplished around here instead of catering to your sassy little princess ways.

Indeed, what a princess you are... if you could be carried on a silk pillow and fed bananas and omgoatmeal you would be in heaven. Asking you to crawl all of two feet can have the same effects of pushing you down. Oh Lord, the NERVE of us. How DARE we make your precious little knees TOUCH THE GROUND. You've got quite the "woe is me" sob under your belt. You poor poor little thing. You scoot yourself back into a sitting position, fold yourself over and just WAIL until you're all the way back on your belly. Melting into a puddle of tears on our lovely indoor/outdoor carpeting. Tears, snot, the ultimate sadness. It really is quite pitiful and to an innocent bystander we probably look like the WORST parents ever for neglecting you and leaving you to cry for a few minutes before we look over at your sad heap of a body on the floor. Gotta teach you while you're young, sorry sweetest girl. Mama doesn't do tantrums.

You're starting to eat us out of house and home now and you're still nursing. STILL. Brother was beginning to look like quite the pirahna at 8 months and it felt like it too. You, on the other hand, not so much. you've started to crawl away with the boob when you're tired, but not tired enough to doze off. Which i've got to tell you isn't too pleasant. I've thought about introducing bottles to you again, but your poor Mama isn't quite sure she wants to give you something she's going to have to take right back in a few months. Your brother had to have his bottles pried out of a white knuckled stronghold at 18 months and I really don't want to have to go through THAT again. As much as I long for my freedom at night, I know that the minute you stop nursing I will cry myself to sleep at night and whine to eeeeveryone with ears that I miss my baaaaaaaby and where did my baby go? Why WHY? My babies are ALL GROWN UP!!??! BOOOOOOHOOOO. And THAT is exactly how you came to be. mommy stopped nursing stinky, Mommy cried about wanting a baby to snuggle close to her chest, Mommy got pregnant with you. Pretty much JUST LIKE THAT. Thank goodness for you, it is pretty much physically impossible for mama to get pregnant for... counting fingers... 4 1/4 more years. So, you're welcome. Unless there's some freak accident you'll be my youngest and sweetest baby for a few more years.

Well, this post COULD have been longer, but you've somehow managed to get yourself stuck under your walker and the cat is sending out distress signals on your behalf. I love you, sweet girl. Please let me cherish these next few months as much as possible even though we both know they are going to soar right past us.


Your mama

No comments:

Post a Comment