GOOD TIMES

Wednesday, July 3, 2013 

11 months ago, we were blessed with a healthy baby girl who clearly stressed me out from the beginning.  She was ripped from my loins with reckless abandon carefully removed via C-section whereupon she took a few seconds to start crying.  A glorious sound on that day.  Today, not so much.  She was so little and fragile and unable to do anything but flop and lay (and eat, poop, pee, sleep and cry).  That day, I made David promise me I didn't have to do this again.  The drugs and 8 months of stress just did me in.

Now, I can't help but mourn my little baby as she was on that day.  I miss how small she was and how I had to hold her head and how every single thing we did was a brand new experience, for us both.  I miss that I could use the bathroom and not wonder where she was.  I miss the 3 months I was able to stay at home with her, in our new house.  I miss knowing that all she needed was me, and not green beans or food that resembles human food, but looks like spit up.  I can see why people have babies 2 years apart.  Not always because they want to plan it that way, but because they miss having a little baby infant.  It wasn't easy, but neither is now.  As it should be.

Fast forward from 4 pound, 13 ounce Emma (who never lost ANY weight!) to must be about 17-18 pound 11 month old Emma.  This Emma is everywhere.  She's moved from her "storming the beaches at Normandy army crawl" to a regular baby crawl.  And she's fast.  She can go from living to dining room in 3.2 seconds flat.  Thankful for our open floor plan so we can keep a better eye on Sweet Cheeks as she navigates through the house.  This keeps me from cooking dinner, cleaning house and from being lazy.  All Emma, all the time.  Next step is wrapping her in bubble wrap.

She pulled a table on top of her this weekend and gave herself a shiner on the temple.  I wasn't home, but I can imagine the tears that followed - silent breathless crying for a few seconds then all out screaming.  The kind where you know it hurt but you also know it scared her to death.  Those ones are the worst, since I tend to start crying and get scared to death too.  Seems I have the thought process of an 11 month old.

She likes to dance to her dog/plane rolling toy - it comes with songs, which we know by heart.  She shakes her butt and sometimes waves her hands in the air.  It's precious.  She likes electronic equipment and turns the PlayStation on regularly.  She starts swim lessons on Monday and only has 8 bathing suits to choose from.  If it's anything like her bath, I think she'll have a blast.

Em has 7 teeth, with more trying to come in both front and back.  These have caused her some sleeplessness, which we have tried to combat with teethers, drugs and desperate pleas to God.  She loves her Daddy to death and gives him smiles that no one else gets.  She loves to sleep on him, and I think he likes it too!  On the nights that her sleep is interrupted (I'd like to know who's doing it), she likes to pull herself up in the crib to a standing position, stare at the camera Blair Witch Project style and then stomp her feet - all while crying.  She's fast at this too.  I am proud of this milestone, but worried she'll eventually learn to jump. 

She's tried finger food sized portions of boiled chicken, avocado, carrots, peas, green beans and potatoes.  She still prefers to be fed by spoon and would rather have her staples of sweet potatoes, peas, squash and green beans.  We keep trying to shove new foods in her face in hopes that one will take.  We tried chicken last night and I think most of it ended up on her lap.

We've found out the hard way that Emma requires a schedule.  She needs to stay on her routine or hell breaks loose.  For the love of God, please don't get off that schedule.  We never know what exactly ails her, be it her teeth, an ear infection we don't know about, hunger or just being ornery.  Typically all things relate to her tiredness.  Me too Emma, me too.