17 months

It's crazy to me that in one month, you're gonna be a year and a half. 

It's also crazy to me how fiercely my love grows for you each and every day. There's just nothing in this world that can describe it- of this, I'm certain.

 taken on 5/28, one day before turning 17 months after insisting we Go-De (go outside... duh!)

You can easily be described by a new song I made up yesterday:  

"My name is..." sung by me like Kid Rock, yo. "[Loooooo-oooooo-ooooooooooo-vie!] Talk, talk, jibber jibber, jabber jabber, jibber!"

Repeat singchantrapping over and over again whilst bobbing head and moving arms along with the beat.

Yummy in my Tummy

I was wanting some brown sugar yesterday for some reason... so I found a recipe for Brown Sugar Pancakes and that's what I made for breakfast this morning.

They turned out fabulous. Yum!

And the recipe makes enough pancakes for half a Duggar family I bet!

Speaking of brown sugar...

She's napping right now. When we got home yesterday she was so stuffy and coughing a bit. Poor thing. I could see it in her eyes that she wasn't feeling so well. She only ate a fruit pouch (well not the actual pouch, of course) for dinner- refused everything else. I have a feeling her throat was hurting her pretty bad. She cried when I kept offering other foods so I finally let it be, scooped her up and brought her to bed at 530. She looked up at me, then stood up, and wanted me to hold her. So I did. I scooped her up into my arms and held onto her as I swayed a bit. She just laid her head on my shoulder and let her whole body relax. I sat in the chair that's beside her crib and she continued to lay on me, molding into me. For 20 minutes we sat like that. My eyes closed but I didn't fall asleep... I don't think she did either. But it was enough to re-energize her a bit to hang out and watch a little tv before Daddy got home. Then about 640, she was ready for bed and was fast asleep within minutes not waking until 515 this morning. I gave her a bottle of warm milk and she drank it all and fell back to sleep until 730!

And today, fortunately, she's feeling a lot better already! Hoorah!

We'll take it easy today, just in case, because we have a picnic to go tomorrow for my grandmother's 89th birthday, then Tuesday we leave for our little annivacation. So hopefully the sickies can stay far away for a bit.

Have a great Memorial Day weekend!

And, if you ever make the brown sugar pancakes, let me know if you think they're as yummy as we do!

Amen

from Positive Parenting: Toddlers and Beyond on Facebook:


If I had my child to raise over again -

I'd build self-esteem first and the house later
I'd finger paint more and point the finger less


I would do less correcting and more connecting
I'd take my eyes off my watch and watch with my eyes
I would care to know less and know to care more


I'd take more hikes and fly more kites
I'd stop playing serious and seriously play
I would run through more fields and gaze at more stars


I'd do more hugging and less tugging
I'd see the oak tree in the acorn more often
I would be firm less often and affirm much more


I'd model less about the love of power
And more about the power of love.

packing for vacation with a toddler

We're getting ready to go away for a few days to celebrate our 4th wedding anniversary (11 years together)... and yes, we're taking Lovie with us (wouldn't have it any other way).

We did this last year, too. In fact this will be our third year in a row going to the same place. It's only a 90 minute drive (no more than) from our house, but it's sooo different than the city. We love it.

So it's time to start packing- or at least getting a list together.

My stuff (the H packs his own crap, tyvm):

clothes- panties, bras, tops, bottoms, socks, pj's, extras
shoes- gym shoes, flip flops
hair shit
toiletries- beyond hair shit (don't forget deodorant)
camera
batteries

Lovie's stuff (very random order):
Baby dolls- Grandma bear, Baby doll, Seahorse are absolute musts
PJs- footed, non footed
noise machine
diapers
wipes
sippy cups
shoes
clothes- shorts, dresses, tops, skorts, pants, sweatshirt
bathing suit
sun hat
sunblock
toys for the car
toys for the hotel room
toys for restaurants
toys for sight seeing
jacket
socks
prune juice
cheerios
frozen peas (I really don't think she can do without!)
nutrigrain bars
pacifiers
baby shampoo
comb
hair stuff
kid motrin
toothbrush
stroller!
books
floaters for pool
sand toys


OMG this is way more than we had to bring last year when she was itty bitty like this:

Now, we're gonna need two cars... and we're only going for two nights! And I'm sure I'm missing something...amiright? Help!

the dead dog

Remember this?

Lovie and her Dog, circa early December 2010.

Yeah. My girl loves this dog. Grandpa brought it over one day on a visit. It's perfect for her because it's long and skinny so it's super easy for her to grab a hold of and do what she wants with it.

Anyway, it's been storming here (and everywhere in this country it seems) and yesterday when we got inside the place and got settled, I happened to look out at the street and noticed something right outside the back door of my car. Something white and black and long and narrow.

Her doggie.

And it rained all night long.

And now, in 15 minutes, Lovie and I have to make our way out there to the car to go to school and work and somehow do this without her seeing what awful thing I've done to her poor little doggie.

Got to remember to bring a bag to dispose of the remains. Poor dead doggie.

PYHO: disrespect

I need to change my tone, the delivery in which my words exit my mouth and enter the air toward my husband.

I’ve known for a while now that my tone has taken a dive when it comes to how I speak to my husband. And even though I know what I’m doing when I do it, and even though I know how horrible it is that I’m doing it, I still do it. Time after time. And it really really needs to stop.

There’s a complete lack of respect in my tone. And that’s not cool. Nor is it fair.

My husband loves me. All of me. All the time. Sometimes I think he loves me more than I deserve to be loved.

And yet, sometimes when I speak to him, when I ask him to do something or question something he’s done or hasn’t done, I’m a bitch about it.

He really doesn’t deserve it and I do apologize once in a while yet… I continue to be rotten at times.

It needs to stop.

Not only for our relationship as husband and wife, but also for Lovie. She’s our little Monkey See Monkey Do right now and it’s just a matter of time before she starts speaking to her Daddy the way I do. And that would kill me… to see a child speak to her Daddy, who loves her more than anything in the world, in a manner that oozes disrespect.

I’ve known this all for quite some time, but Sunday morning something happened to really drive it home that the time has come to buckle down and change...once and for all.

My mom came over later in the day on Saturday and spent the night. Sunday morning Lovie woke very early. At about 730 in the morning when Lovie and I were playing in the front of the house in her playroom, she got up and made her way toward the back of the house where the kitchen and our bedroom are. My mom and I chatted away not thinking much about it till about 30 seconds later when we hear a very loud Lovie yell, “Dada! Get up!”

My mom and I looked at each and laughed so hard and repeated, in sync, what Lovie had said.

While it was funny (and still is), it’s also not so funny because that’s how I talk to my husband and clearly Lovie can hear this and is already repeating it... at not even 17 months old.

And if she's talking to him this way now, how will it sound at 7 or 17 years old?

It's unacceptable and it's got to stop.

screw the chalk

We skipped going to the park yesterday because it was in the 80s and sunny and we've already learned our lesson about when we can and can't go to the park. I did think about going though because the breeze was nice but then when Lovie started saying, "Hot" over and over again as soon as we walked out of daycare, I figured she was letting me know she didn't want to bake in the sun today.

Instead we came straight home and since the front of our house faces the east and the sun was in the back of the house at the time, I thought we could play with some sidewalk chalk.

I picked up a honkin' piece of chalk and scribbled on the ground. Lovie followed suit. Then she put the chalk down, climbed the rocky concrete steps (the curb appeal of the building we live in is embarrassing to say the least- but the inside... makes it doable... so much so that we don't plan on moving out any time soon), and made it pretty clear that she was done playing with chalk.

I call this one: "No, ma. I don't wanna play with chalk, I wanna go inside and watch the Wiggles. Pop Pop!"

Just saying...

Hiiiee

HEY!

I see... YOU!

slide slide slippity slide

just about to the top

It's been a couple months now of stopping off at the park on the way home from work and school. Basically anytime the weather's been above 40 and not rainy, we've stopped. I've lost track of the exact number of times... maybe two dozen?

There was the time a dog pissed the shit out of me- well the owner of the dog, actually. Then there was the realization that my kid was a weirdo. And then there was the time when I wasn't sure if I handled things the right way and wondered if there was such a thing as playground etiquette.

I've learned a lot over the past couple of months in regards to what type of mom I want to be when we go the playground... and what type of kid mine will be. And Lovie? She's learned a lot, too.

She now actually enjoys swinging- though she doesn't care to swing for very long and primarily only wants to swing if others are swinging.

But more than the swing triumph, my girl... well, she's conquered something she's been wanting to do since the first time she was introduced to a slide. She's learned how to climb up the slide using the slide instead of the stairs.

She did it the other day (Wednesday) for the first time and she did so without any coaxing from me. I was actually very proud of her. She slid down the slide, smiled, turned around, and started trying to climb the slide. She flopped down and slid back down several times and each time, she smiled and immediately started trying to climb. Then by her fifth or sixth try, she made it all the way to the top. (The only reason I let her continue trying is because A. this was all natural instinct to her, B. she wasn't harming herself or anyone else, C. there was only one other child in the park and he was more interested in watching her try to climb than going down the slide himself {i asked him!}.) 

So now whenever she goes down the slide with glee...

excuse the pants she's wearing- they're part of her daycare clothes if needed and she needed them yesterday

...she turns right back around and tries climbing it again. The only problem now is that when there are other kids, I have to grab her to allow them to have a turn or she'll monopolize the damn slide like she owns it or something. Which she kinda does at only (not quite yet) 17 months old.

That's my girl. She's badass like that. ; )

(second photo being submitted for the PM's Blue challenge)