Breastfeeding, round II

Going in to my second pregnancy, I had no doubt that I would breastfeed. I knew it might not be easy, but I'm stubborn and figured I'd hope for the best. I decided I'd aim for the one-year mark again and hoped to follow a course similar to my breastfeeding journey with Elle.

Within days of Wesley's birth, however, I wondered if I was putting too much pressure on myself (it would not be the first time, and I'll admit right now that breastfeeding Elle for 13 months is a huge source of pride for me - I was definitely holding myself to those same standards with Wesley). Between hormones and early latch issues, the first few weeks of his life included several moments of questioning my initial goals and receiving carefully worded "permission" from my OB to give up my assumption that Wesley would receive breast milk only for the first 12 months of his life. My OB stressed the benefits that just six weeks of exclusive nursing provided to both Wesley and I. Tim and I discussed the options. And I decided to continue nursing, with a mini-goal of three months, then four months, on my horizon. (FYI: It's much easier to think about pumping for a few months rather than put a heavy "YEAR" expectation on yourself.)

Nursing Wesley has definitely gotten easier with time. At first, his initially stellar latch turned to a shallow, painful latch that had me wincing with every feeding. After my milk came in, though, it got better and continued to improve. By the time he was about a month old, I wasn't experiencing pain every time he ate, and his growth indicated that he was definitely getting enough milk.

"When's dinner, Ma?"

At about that same time, we introduced the bottle, which meant that I started pumping again. During those first few weeks, I pumped once, during the morning, on days that I had time to fit a pumping session in between his meals. It took two or three tries, but he eventually took to the bottle with no problem, and we established a good idea of how much he needed in each bottle (3-4 ounces at the time, which is now a definitive 4-preferably-4.5 ounces). I was able to freeze a small amount of milk, and when I returned to work, I planned to nurse whenever possible, pumping twice while at the office and pray that I could keep up with his demands.

Things in general are waaayyyy different this time around. When I was nursing Elle, I left for work around 3 p.m. and returned home around 1 a.m. I was lucky to be able to actually nurse her for almost every feeding except usually two, which meant I only needed to leave two bottles. I ended up with more frozen milk than I needed, and I was able to donate more than 400 ounces to other mothers in need of breast milk for their little ones. I pumped twice a day - once during my shift and once on my drive home (yes, I had quite a hook up that allowed me to pump hands-free while I drove safely, haha).

This recent photo of Elle is just to show that she's a stellar eater.

This time, I leave for work by 8 a.m. and leave at 5 p.m. I miss 3-4 feedings, so I'm trying to supply 3-4 bottles on any given day. While my supply is decent, it's still a challenge to keep up with demand. I take two pump breaks, usually one around 10:30 and the other around 2:30 p.m. Initially, I was getting just enough to keep up with Wesley's needs. But now I'm definitely short and almost always need another pump session before I go to bed to make sure he has enough for the next day. I try to freeze any extra milk that I have, but for the last several weeks, there hasn't been any extra to speak of. Things at work are getting busier, and it's getting harder for me to take the breaks - it's stressing me out to try to make sure I "schedule" them in.

I know I complained about my "pumping prison" when I nursed Elle, but that was a much better situation than my current scenario. My company is much smaller, in both number of employees and physical space. There is no place for me to pump except my car. So twice a day, I haul my stuff out to the car, pump and bring it all back inside to stow in a crowded, public fridge.

The pumping is obviously the worst part of breastfeeding right now - very annoying, time consuming, mechanical. But the actual nursing is something I will always treasure. From cuddling in the morning to taking a few minutes to sit down with the kids after a long day at work, I am the food source, but it is such an emotional experience.

Wesley is a physical eater - when he's nursing or even taking a bottle, his hands are always moving. He sometimes scratches his head, sometimes strokes your arm or - my favorite - finds and holds your fingers. As a second child, he's sometimes had to wait for a meal - he often melts down as I'm getting Elle out of the bath and just. wants. his. milk. When Elle had those moments of wanting milk NOW and having to wait, she would nurse furiously, glaring at me as tears dried in the corners of her eyes. Her reaction then is definitely an early indication of her dynamic personality today. Wesley, on the other hand. sinks in to an instant state of relaxation and relief. His eyes look grateful as he nurses, thankful that his needs were finally met. He'll often nurse to sleep at this point, likely out of pure physical and emotional exhaustion. While I'm not pleased that he gets to that point while I'm attending to Elle's needs, the balancing act often peaks with his bedtime nursing session, and it's definitely a notable one for me.

I memorized little crinkles in his ear during our first nursing sessions. I've since seen those newborn marks fade. I've stroked his hair - first short and dark blond, now longer, fluffy and light - during our nursing sessions. I've observed over and over as he has latched in the dark and gone right back to sleep during the early morning meals. I've soothed him. I've been burped and farted on, covered in spit up and kicked, scratched and pinched. While not always pleasant, the nursing sessions have always been educational and memorable.  

The nursing gymnastics have begun.
Personal space is fair game.

For personal and medical reasons (mine, not Wesley's!), as of this week I'm cutting back on the pumping sessions. Since I won't be producing as much milk, we'll be supplementing with formula. We gave him his first bottle of formula today - a day after he turned six months old. I know "feeding your baby is feeding your baby," but it's been an extremely emotional decision for me. I'm pretty passionate about breastfeeding - I will defend your right to breastfeed, support your efforts in breastfeed, encourage you to continue breastfeeding. I will sympathize with you as you nurse a teething baby, nod my head understandingly as you relate the perils of nursing a distracted and energetic infant and know exactly what you mean when you say the only thing that seemed to comfort your baby was nursing ... and nursing ... and nursing. I have loved it (not every minute of it, haha, but overall!) and hope to continue nursing Wesley for at least a few more months.

The decision was mine to make, but it's been hard to come terms with for multiple reasons. Regardless of the emotion involved, I've been contemplating introducing formula for months. I was intimidated, too, having absolutely no experience with formula, and I grilled our pediatrician at Wesley's last appointment, going over all kinds of "formula newbie" questions with her to prepare for when the time would come. I finally decided to make it to six months with exclusive breastmilk for several reasons (including all of the benefits both he and I have gotten and will have), because I knew it was a milestone for benefits, I knew it was an attainable goal and I didn't want to wait too long to introduce formula for fear of him rejecting it. (Elle was such a breast milk baby that she never took to any other milk form, and while I don't think that was an awful thing, it definitely played a role in my thought process). It's the same reason we introduced a bottle with both kids within the first few weeks, and thankfully, after six months of breast milk only, the kid hesitantly took the formula. Tim said he wasn't too thrilled about it at first and slowly drank two ounces but then sucked down another two ounces fairly quickly. I can only hope that the next few days go as smoothly and he continues cooperating.

Bananas are pretty funny.

We're also introducing solids (via Baby Led Weaning) at the same time - last night he sat with us at the dinner table in the high chair for the first time and played with some banana with his tiny, chubby hands. He wasn't too interested in eating any actual banana pieces, but he seemed to like his banana-flavored thumbs. He's been extremely interested in our plates and food for the last month and a half, and I'm excited to see how things go as he explores new textures and flavors.

Little star

Well, the kid needs to have some of his own videos, right? I caught some fun ones of Wesley tonight ... enjoy!

 

A smiley milestone

Elle went to the dentist for the first time this week! It was a rescheduled appointment, as our home was hit by some sort of stomach virus and she was vomiting and feverish the day before her previously scheduled appointment. But once she was feeling better, they squeezed us in for an appointment, and she did great.

I had been telling her for weeks that the dentist was going to count her teeth and see how clean they were. She's only recently gotten over a slight phobia of doctors, and she handled this "special tooth doctor" like a champ. They had a huge aquarium and toys, and I think that won her over.

They told me that they're usually not able to do a full cleaning on three year olds, but Elle was examined, polished, flossed and fluoride-d without much complaint (I think by the end the novelty had worn off and she just wanted to be done and look at the fish again). She even got to wear sunglasses because the light was so bright.

The dentist said her teeth look great, and the only thing he noted was her thumb sucking habit. As a former thumb sucker myself, I knew pretty much what he was going to tell me - it's an orthodontic issue, she's a tongue thruster, the roof of her mouth is becoming more narrow because of it, etc. He joked that we should just start a fund now to save for her future orthodontic issues (I'm pretty sure I'm going to do it, no joke - contributions now being accepted!).

She is basically exhibiting all of the orthodontic issues I had, so I'm prepared for and familiar with it, and while we'd love for her to stop sucking her thumb, we (and our pediatrician, and the dentist) all agree that it's a tough habit to break, and forcing her to break it after her new brother entered the picture would be a recipe for disaster.

So for now, her teeth are clean, we brush and floss at home and we let the thumb sucking continue.

Flipped.

About a week ago, Tim went out in the rain and worked on yet another sign that our baby is growing up: The flipping of the car seats. We've both had Elle rear-facing since we switched to convertible seats when Elle was about nine months old, but for multiple reasons, we both wanted to flip her around soon after her second birthday.

She had been fine rear-facing - no car sickness, no complaints, no abnormal fussing - but she LOVES forward facing. She rode with Tim for the first two times after we made the switch, and she actually laughed the first time in the car and exclaims "Daddy/Mommy driving!" each time we go somewhere.

Elle was coming down with a cold the afternoon
that she rode with me for the first time post-seat flip
and not exactly the most enthused individual ever.

Tim and I were both surprised that we feel self-conscious to have her watching our every move now, but I *do* love being able to check on her with a quick glance in my rear-view mirror or a look over my shoulder.

1.5

Happy half-birthday to my dearest Elle Belle!

I honestly don't know how Elle got to be 18 months old. (That's like two whole pregnancies.) It pretty much hit me yesterday. And then I freaked out.

Because it feels like just yesterday that I was taking photos like this:

And now Baby has more hair and personality that she did even six months ago, and we play and take photos like this:

But I thought that instead of a sappy post or a recap of what she's been up to at this age wouldn't be nearly as fun or as accurate as a look in to our life with a one and a half year old. These videos are all from the last two weeks.

Eleven seconds of can't-be-missed-cuteness:

Elle's new favorite form of rebellion:

Counting (and counting and counting and counting):

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Singing and fun at dinnertime:

Elle Belle, you're so smart, sweet and fun, and your daddy and I love you to pieces. I can't believe how fast you're growing, but I can't wait to keep watching you learn and continue developing in to your own (opinionated, stubborn, intelligent, hilarious) person.

I'm sorry, you said what?

It struck me recently - Elle is speaking in complete sentences.

WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?!

The first solid phrases I can pinpoint are of a similar theme. There was the peek-a-boo parroting of "Where's Elle Belle?" But now she's taking it to a higher level - she's been saying "Where did *insert person/animal/thing here* go? Where is he?" for a few days. It's especially cute when she is talking about Tim, Santa or one of the cats. The other day, Elle and I took dinner to Tim, who had a hectic night of work ahead of him. As we pulled away, I heard Elle quietly calling "Daddddddyyy. Where did he go? Where is Daddy?" The enunciation isn't crystal clear, but it's definitely clear enough. (And makes me want to melt, but that's beside the point.)

Then she added the cats. "Where did Sidney go?" she'd say as she put her hands out and started walking around the condo to hunt him down. There's been "Saaaaannnnnaaa. Where did Sanna go?" She threw that one out minutes after flipping out when she visited Santa this year - I told her that it was obvious she didn't care where he was when he was trying to talk to her, but she ignored me. 

And then another favorite that started this weekend: "I see Elmo. Where did he go?" The way she asks it - like her heart is breaking because she doesn't know where in the world Elmo went (Elmo being "present" in book or Target ad form) - is absolutely adorable. (More on another one of her favorite sayings in an upcoming post in which I realize what a terrible role model I am.)

But peeps. She's stringing stuff together. Aware that she's unaware of the whereabouts of certain people. FREAKING FIGURING STUFF OUT. I'm pretty sure she'll be answering the phone and taking messages before the end of the year.

Walking on Sunshine

As previously mentioned, Elle took her first steps last week. And apparently by waiting so long, she's jumped right in to fearless-barreling-across-rooms walking. I'm still thrown off when I look up and see her walking toward me, or when I don't hear her tell-tale crawl thump as warning before she appears. (It's a lot harder to track silent, walking Elle in the condo, too.)

But it's very cool for us to see her walking, and for me, it is kind of the last big milestone of her infanthood, you know? I mean, we've had rolling, sitting up, teeth, solids, crawling, talking, standing ... and now walking. Which pretty much means kindergarten starts next week, and she'll want to borrow the keys to the car next month. *sobs* OK. I'm better now. Kinda.

Here's a short video I edited together from some of her first days walking ... the quality isn't the best because a) it seems to take forever to process and then upload my edited videos and b) I don't do this often and never remember what I've done that worked/didn't work in the past. Anyway, you'll get the idea:

Elle's 15-month stats

First of all, when did I become the mother of a 15-month-old?! (And how do you like that she's almost 16 months old by the time I'm publishing this? Sigh.)

Secondly, I'm pretty sure this is the first well-baby visit I've missed :( Elle's appointment was at the beginning of the month. Tim seemed to think I was coming, even though I couldn't take the time off work and he was already going to be home with Elle. Alas, he reported back from the appointment with the following info:

Weight: 24 pounds, 6 ounces (72 percentile)

Height: 32.5 inches (92 percentile)

Head: 48.5 cm (92 percentile)

Current developments include walking (?!?!), which just happened around her 15.5 month mark, sporting eight teeth (four top, four bottom) and accepting the molars as they slowly arrived (in the last three weeks, I think, all quadrants of her mouth have been invaded by the molars breaking through - bottom gums were swollen with what felt like pebbles, poor baby).

Elle knows when she's in trouble and tries to cute her way out of it. She'll look down and then pop up with a big "HI!" and her smile is so big her eyes will twinkle. If she's in trouble, nervous, super excited or scared, she'll say "Hug?" and reach up to you. (Perhaps the cutest thing ever, yes.) The UPS guy delivered a package the other day with a loud knock, and Elle scampered under Tim's chair and said "Hug? Hug?" Tim told me it took eight hugs to get her shirt on one day (she seriously asks for one when you get the clothes out, when you put it over her head, when you put each sleeve on, etc.) She says "mommy!" any time Tim's phone rings and I'm not there. She likes to try to sing "Twinkle Twinkle" and the ABC song (she chimes in with the "W" and "Now you know your ABCs" parts). She says "hereyougo" like it's all one word. Any time you sing Old McDonald and ask her what is on his farm, she'll tell you "kitties." (Poor farmer dude has a farm full of cats.) She'll bid you farewell with a "Buh bye, see you!"

Little girl is so stinking smart. We haven't pushed potty training, but we've worked on getting her familiar with the potty and trying to establish a connection between peeing and pooping and what the potty is for ... the other night I had her on the potty as I ran her bath. I took her off and was inspecting what looked like a dry patch of skin behind her ear as we headed for the tub. Elle said "potty" and suddenly I felt a warm patch on my shirt ... where she had peed on me. Not cool, but the bright side? She obviously knows pee AND poop go in the potty, we just have to work on her alerting us a bit sooner.

When we run her bath water, she yells "Yay, bath!" and claps as soon as she hears the faucets turn on. She can be in the other room, and she acts like it's Christmas each time.

She can identify the letter O and circle and heart shapes. She's pretty good at figuring out when something is "yay-yow" (yellow), too. 

She says "Dokey dokey" if you ask her "Okey dokey?" She'll sing "booty" and "shake your booty" if you start to sing it to her. She'll often say "bless you" when you sneeze. She says "tawwy" (sorry). She likes to dance. She loves puzzles. And still loves books (although she shows no remorse when she rips them, grrr). Loves fruit. Loves pizza (like, LOVES). Likes black beans. Likes breakfast for dinner.

Still hates milk.

She loves to watch "ideos" on the computer - we watch videos of her, other baby friends, music videos on YouTube and the Wiggles/Elmo/Sprout/etc.

The three of us often call back and forth (Daddddddy. Mommmmmy. Babbbbby. Or Ellllleeee-Bellllleee) - it's so, so cute to hear Elle do the calls. She's adorable when she says goodbye, too - we go grocery shopping on Saturday mornings so Tim can sleep in, and Elle calls out "Byeeeee, Dadddyyyyyy."

She's getting so much more interactive (read: exhausting) at church, too - she plays with a little girl who is 2 and then two little girls who are in elementary school. She giggles at them, chases them, "shares" toys with them and basically keeps us on our toes the entire time. (And this has all been while she was only crawling, so I'm sure it's just going to get more interesting.)

Current nicknames include Belle, Belle Belle, Elle Belle, Ellie Bean, Baby Boo, Boo Boo, Mimi and Baby Bear.

Current habits remain pretty much the same - three square meals, one or two snacks (we often do a snack about an hour before bedtime now) a day and sleeping 10-12 hours a night. She naps after lunch for about 2 hours. 

In summary: The awesome continues.

Weaning and milk snobbery

At 13 months and two days, we were done breastfeeding.

The last month, especially, was simple - Elle nursed in the morning, then usually once right before or after her morning nap. Since I'm not around most nights, she wasn't comfort-nursing at bedtime. About five or six weeks ago, she seemed to lose interest in the second nursing session of the day, and we were down to one. With the new job on the horizon, I realized that it wouldn't be fair to wake Elle up to nurse her and then leave, because then she'd be wide awake and ready to play with Daddy, who will still be working the night shift. With our next trip coming right before I started the new job, I didn't want to layer on levels of change and stress, so I wanted to start weaning Elle well ahead of time.

Cute photo that has nothing to do with milk.

The first day, I prepared a bottle of frozen breast milk and brought Elle and the bottle in to our bed. I expected Elle to fight and fuss, straining to nurse like she had for the last 13 months. Instead, she grabbed the bottle and gulped it down, rolling back and forth to look at Tim and I periodically. The second morning was the same. The third morning I got tricky and tried to sneak an ounce of almond milk in with four ounces of breast milk. REJECTED. The fourth morning was a return to straight breast milk, and the bottle didn't stand a chance.

A few days later, she had a bottle of breast milk that was a little more chilly than usual. That wasn't going to fly with her. A day or two after that, I tried a slightly warmed up version of coconut milk with her breakfast (I basically ran the bottle under hot water briefly). Again, no dice. This time, at least, she would take a sip, but then she'd make a horrible face and shake her head like she'd been subjected to drinking the worst thing imaginable.

The verdict? Baby loves her breast milk. Her warm breast milk. And that's about it.

"I will now eat breakfast. Sans milk. Get over it, people."

Our pediatrician isn't concerned about Elle's disinterest in non-breast milk, because she gets calcium from other sources, like cheese and yogurt, two things that she LOVES. I'm going to keep trying to introduce milk (we've tried cow's milk, soy milk, almond milk and coconut milk), but I'm not stressing over it. I don't really like milk, and neither does Tim. We're a milk-on-our-cereal-and-in-ourmy-coffee kind of couple. Elle loves sharing our cereal with us, too - not minding that milk one bit. Maybe some day Elle will start gulping down milk by the gallon. Until then, she's pretty happy with water and her other dairy products, so I'm cool with that, too. Generally, she's not a picky eater, but when she doesn't like something, she DOESN'T LIKE SOMETHING.

In many ways, weaning was sad. I didn't mind the natural course of weaning when we introduced solids (via baby-led weaning) and gradually dropped nursing sessions. But now that they're all gone? Elle and I no longer have that special experience together. It was something we'd done every day of her existence. Every morning (except two, when I ran in early-morning races), she would come in to our bed, and I would nurse her. It was such a deeply ingrained habit - it was my favorite part of the day, waking up with my loves and having Elle cuddle in, acting like she hadn't eaten in weeks. As we weaned, we still replicated the habitual part of that with the bottle - Elle came in to our bed and drank it while we cuddled with her, made her laugh, watched her reaction as the cats brushed against her and tickled her feet. But as far as not nursing goes, Elle was completely unfazed, which was both reassuring and upsetting. I realized I was glad she was so go-with-the-flow about it but I hadn't expected her to be SO go-with-the-flow :)

"Take me to your cheese and yogurt, please."

In some ways, though, weaning was satisfying. I had met and exceeded my breastfeeding goals, and I know that Elle is thriving and flourishing. I packed away my nursing covers, bras and tanks and was not at all sad, trust me. I am so thankful for being able to breastfeed for so long and especially grateful that we didn't have any major obstacles. I love that her first signs were "milk," "more" and "eat." I am appreciative for all of the support I received - from my husband, family, friends, my breastfeeding support group and other mommies. I know it would have been a lot harder if I hadn't had such an amazing support system. Elle is independent in so many ways, and we still have plenty of bonding/cuddle time. She took a bottle of frozen breast milk in the morning up until the morning we left for Ohio (conveniently, that's when my frozen stash was gone), and now that we're back, Elle and Daddy can start their new routine.

Wordful Wednesday: Elle's vocab

In the last 48 hours, Elle has picked up several new words, including apple, potato, onion (thanks, Kelly, for the plastic fruits and veggies!), belly, happy (she has been going around saying "appy, appy" all day) and a strong attempt at the word flower.

I seriously can't get over how fast she's picking up new words. There is definitely some confusion on the meaning of some words (she curled up with her blankie and said "nigh nigh" - when I asked her if she loved her blankie she made monkey noises). But this girl? Such a little parrot. And a smart one, too - she's constantly pointing at things and repeating us over and over.

Here are two of her other recent acquisitions, on video:

Banana (or "manana"):

Cookie (of course shoving the whole thing in her mouth):

Elle's 13-month stats

The title of this post is misleading, because a) I don't have stats and b) I don't really care because c) she's almost 13.5 months old and d) I'm wayyyy behind in posting and e) the last six weeks have been full of Elle-is-changing-and-learning-new-things-every-five-minutes-so-this-post-can-just-preserve-what-she-is-up-to-at-13-months-instead-of-that-she-grew-a-sixteenth-of-an-inch.

So. There's that.

I have about a half dozen half-finished blog posts in draft status, twice as many floating around in my head and a to-do list that refuses to shrink. And also, since this is a few weeks late and I've been working on it in my spare time, it's extra, super-dee-duper long. You're welcome.

On with the show!

Current developments include pulling up to standing and having improved balance and leg strength, talking more and more (I'm losing track of the new words!), blowing kisses, lots of waving hi and bye, signing (milk, more, done, please - she won't sign eat any more for some reason), pushing up on all fours, rockin' six teeth, growing more hair.

The helium-filled primates.

Elle is totally a lover of animal noises - the newest ones she's learned are owl, bird, lion and monkey noises. The monkey one cracks me up - we were at the grocery store and there were helium balloons of cartoonish monkeys in the produce section. Elle started to say "Ooo! Eee!" at the balloons, which is her version of my "Ooo, ooo, eee, eee!" monkey noise. Then at the park the other night, a woman called Elle a chunky monkey (not accurate, but whatever), and Elle made the monkey noise again. Tim and Elle watch Sprout in the morning, and the "co-host" is a little bird named Chica. Elle LOVES to talk about Chica, saying it over and over excitedly as he takes her in to the living room in the mornings. Or randomly while we're driving somewhere in the car.

Elle now requests us to read particular books - "bown burr, bown burr" is "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, what do you see?"

She also helps read it (two must-see minutes of video):

"Go, go go" is "Go, Dog! Go!" Several of her favorite books have cows on the cover, so she'll point and say "moo." (Including "Mr. Brown can moo, can you?") She likes to repeat all of the animal noises in "Moo, Baa, La la la," including the "la la la" part. When Tim reads the last page ("It's quiet now - what do YOU say?"), Elle says moo :) She shakes her hand like she's scolding the monkeys in "Eight Silly Monkeys Jumping on the Bed." She likes "Bubbles, Bubbles" and pats her head when the bubbles land on the Sesame Street character's head.

I often count to three to her, like when I'm going to blow on her hair or faux drop her from my arms, and she now repeats "two" (sounds like "do") and braces for the action coming after three. She seems pictures on our fridge and says "Abby" for my niece/her cousin and "Ahmee" for Aunt "Marti." We tried to get her to say "Ashlee" (which is my sister-in-law's name and one of Elle's sitter's name), but Elle says "Abidee."

And, always Mommy's girl, Elle says "cracker" and "cookie." :) She also says "bottle."

When she hears my keys jingle, she says "Bye bye!" She crawls down the hall, and we'll call "Elle!" - she responds with an "Elle!" back. She plays well by herself, especially with the books, but also has times (i.e. at church) when she wants to be constantly on the move and entertained.

Play date cuteness at a local children's museum.

Little Girl has also developed a lot emotionally. She's compassionate - she rocks and hugs a little teddy bear that I'd pulled out to sell at a yard sale (guess that won't be happening). She kisses her toys. She has been gentle with the kitties, petting them and saying "awwwwww." She gets extremely upset if she can't have something she wants or if she can't have something as fast as she wants. She often wants "dow" (down) and will let you know quite loudly if she doesn't want to be carried, picked up, put in the high chair, etc. She's got this "defiance warning" - she's smacks her thighs, the high chair tray, anything close by - to let you know she's not backing down from whatever she wants. If I use a stern tone of voice and a steady look, the little lip pops out and the tears and cries follow. It's a constant cycle - we're trying to teach her boundaries while remaining understanding and supportive as she explores things, including her emotions. Even though she communicates pretty well, between her words and signs, she still gets so frustrated about things, and I can totally understand that. She makes a growly "bahhhhhh" noise when she's emphatic about something.

And walking? Not doing it. She's cruising all over the place - along the inside of her crib, around living room furniture, etc. The exciting news is that last night she used her walker and took several steps for the first time. Like, plowed right across the living room like she'd been doing it for weeks. It was pretty awesome :)

Current loves include "helping" Mommy empty the dishwasher, eating, baths, throwing food on the floor, grilled cheese, spinach balls, books, repeating almost everything, grapes, playing in the crib and talking to herself when she wakes up, toy fruits and vegetables, books, books, books, keys.

Current nicknames include Elle Belle, Belle Belle, Ellie Bean, Sweet Pea, Cupcake, Boo Boo and Mimi. 

Current habits include taking a bottle of pumped breast milk once a day (after a little more than 13 months, Elle is no longer nursing - more on that in a later post), drinking water from a sippy cup throughout the day, eating three meals of solids a day with 1-2 snacks, sleeping 11-14 hours at night and making a rocky transition to one nap a day (usually around 2ish hours long). If she naps too early, not long enough or refuses a second nap, we end up with Elle Monster by the end of the day and bed time comes a bit early. She's definitely been fighting the second nap, and while I think she's ready for one and I think we could push her nap back a little bit to avoid the end-of-the-day crankies, we've got a trip and some other big transitions coming up that leave us just riding it out for a bit. We had been in a definite groove for about 5-6 months of knowing approximately when she'd be napping each day, which made it easy to plan our day. Now it's hard to know when she'll wake up for the day, when she'll nap, how many time she'll nap and when bed time will be. But we're rolling with it :)

She's kind of hit-and-miss on the solid foods - some days she'll eat everything, other days she'll eat the same stuff, but only if it's on a fork. Other days she'll just play with everything. On Monday she might love one thing and if I offer it again on Thursday she refuses it. We just keep trying. It's frustrating, and I try not to take it personally when she won't eat food that I've made for all three of us with the hopes that she'd absolutely adore it. She seems to eat a lot more earlier in the day - she'll often have her bottle, her breakfast, part of my breakfast and part of Tim's breakfast. Then she'll chow down at lunch, too. And merely pick at her dinner.

In summary, I can't believe anyone except me is still reading this, and Elle is super fun.

A birthday letter to Elle

Dearest Ellie Bean,

Happy birthday! You're the most perfect person I know.

Love,
Mama

OK, OK ... I'll go in to more detail :)

Dear sweet baby girl,

It hit me hard when I took your 11-month photos with the blocks. I knew I'd take a 12-month photo, but really, that's ONE YEAR. You were officially one month shy of being a year old. And with the way weeks fly by around here, that would be here in no time.

And it is.

This last year has gone by so fast. I've learned so much - about myself, about your dad, about you. And yet I feel like we're just scratching the surface.

A year ago at this time, I had been experiencing signs of labor and contractions for almost 12 hours ... and almost exactly 24 hours after things all started, you were placed on my chest, and I knew you. Instantly.

It was all worth it: Pregnancy, labor, the ups and downs of parenting. The nausea. The foot swelling. The constant need to pee. The contractions that kept me up all night. The pain and discomfort I felt in the hospital as I discovered labor was progressing, and progressing fast. The frustration of knowing how close you were but lacking the skills/focus/energy to push properly. The pain after delivery. The frustration of the first few weeks of parenting. The stress. The anxiety. The fatigue. (Hey, I'm your mom, I'm not going to sugar coat this.) The extra work it takes to prepare both of us to go somewhere. The extra costs. The juggling of schedules and childcare.

But again, it has ALL been worth it.

The moment you arrived in this world, everything changed, although in the flurry of everything going on at the time, I didn't realize exactly how much. We had almost nine months to prepare, and yet I don't feel like I was prepared at all. You were ours, and we were yours, and we were a complete little family.

It feels like a lifetime ago that I looked at you for the first time - and yet, in the last 12 months we've learned that you're just as sweet as you are stubborn. Just as independent as you are cuddly. Just as dramatic as you are comedic.

I love the little person you've morphed in to over the last year.

I love all of the expressions you make while nursing. How you adore an audience and perform accordingly, but also can act shy and coy in front of strangers. How you will accept any sized piece of food I give you and shove it in your mouth without tearing or chewing it in to a smaller piece (really, you could take smaller bites, silly bean).

I absolutely cannot believe how much you're grown and changed since you were born. You've put on a good 13 pounds and gotten at least nine inches taller.

Your personality shines through with every word, noise and gesture. Your laugh fills my entire heart. You feed yourself like a pro. You're a total ham for the camera.

You get around like you've been sitting, crawling and pulling up all your life. You are simultaneously amazingly independent and dependent - a combination that I am absolutely loving. I love to watch you figure things out, I am ecstatic that you love being read to and "reading" your books, and I absolutely adore the little curves of your cheeks and chins, as well as the rolls around your arms and thighs.

We've definitely had our fights and our individual struggles over the last year (and I'm sure they won't be the last!). I am not the most patient person (especially when I don't get enough sleep), and I like to understand everything about everything. By nature, you're a mystery, and I am often frustrated that I can't figure you out. I try to instead enjoy the journey and celebrate the small puzzles that I have solved - but I'm sure you'll continue to throw curve balls at me just to keep me on my toes. Regardless, I hope you know that I'll always be there for you, even when you don't want me or think you don't need me.

We know we are lucky - you're a "good" baby, we're told. You sleep well. You hardly fuss. You haven't been sick. You're a good eater. You're smiley. You're cute. Babies like you make it easy to imagine having another kid (although we fully expect that all of our good baby karma has been used up and any future children will make up for your temperament). But you are without a doubt one of a kind, and I am so happy to call you my daughter and look forward to learning even more about you in the years to come.

Everyone says "Enjoy it. It goes so fast." But it is going faster than I ever could have imagined. And keeps speeding up. For as emotional as I can be (your mom is a bit of a spaz, dear one), and for as nostalgic and reminiscent of the last year that I am (and always will be), I am so grateful for every day, smile, tear, milestone, cuddle, laugh and moment that got us to today. You are everything I ever dreamed of and a thousand times more.

Thank you also for not pooping in the tub or the pool.

Tomorrow, you and Daddy and I will spend the day together, just like we did 365 days ago. You'll eat better food. (So will I, although our hospital food wasn't as awful as I feared.) We'll get more rest. We'll laugh and cry, just like we did last year. We'll open your cards and presents. At 11:28 a.m., I'll look at the clock, undoubtedly comment to your dad about it and probably be overwhelmed with emotion. This will likely happen the last day of July for the rest of my life. 

Happy first birthday, Elle Belle. I love you - forever and always.

Mama

Our baby meows.

So Elle's had a pretty steady verbal development going on. We started with "Baby" and "Dada." The current tally (for ye olde baby book because Tim and I are starting to forget) is as follows:

Baby
Dada
Hi
Mama
Bye
Kitty (kee kee)
Eye
No (Naw)
Giggle
Meow

Yes, she meows. It doesn't always sound exactly like an enunciated "meow," but it definitely sounds like the noises Mario and Sid make. And she does it in response to them - Sid was walking along the crib rail the other day and meowed. Elle meowed back. I made the meowing noise to her later, and she did the same thing.

My daughter is a cat.

"Naw."

We have words!

I'm not shouting this one from the rooftops yet, but we have strong reason to believe that Elle said her first and second words today - the strong reason being we were both there and heard her :)

We often call Elle "Baby." Tim was getting Elle ready for church and said something to her like "Are you ready to go to church, Baby?" I was in the kitchen, and they were in the living room, and I heard two definite syllables: "Bay-bee." Tim paused, and said, "Can you say 'baby'?" And Elle repeated: "Bay-bee. Bay-bee."

It makes sense to us - "baby" is probably one of the words we use most frequently around her, from her nicknames ("Baby," "Baby Bear," "Baby Boo," etc.) and just general "the baby just pooped" and "can you put the baby in the car seat" comments and questions. She repeated it a few more times throughout the day, too.

A little bit later I asked Elle if she could say "Dada." I didn't expect anything. I figured one word was enough for our chatterbox. But she looked at me and whispered "Da-da." After church, Tim put Elle in her crib for a nap, and we crashed for a bit, too. When she woke up about 50 minutes later, I brought her in to our room, and we dozed some more. When she and I started to wake up, in that groggy, sleepy state, she rolled over and faced Tim's back. I asked her where Dada was and told her to wake him up. She started quietly saying "Da-da. Da-da." And patted him on the back. (I have no idea why "Dada" can only be whispered, but I guess it's better than yelling, right?)

This all reminded me of a conversation Tim and I had recently where I told him that the babysitter said Elle babbled all the time. Tim said, in standard sarcastic-Tim style: "Gee, a kid of yours, talking all the time? So hard to believe."

Sigh.

It was made especially cool because we were both there to witness/hear the milestone. So far we've been pretty lucky on catching the "big moments." And honestly, I don't think we would have believed it if we both hadn't been there to hear it.

Of course, when I asked her to say "Mama," which she has babbled numerous times, she looked at me seriously and said "Ob gibby dew do nana quibby bwa bwa."

Grrrrr.

But yes, I know, I know, I need to get the words on video. I'll see what I can do :)

Nostalgic musings

Almost exactly a year ago, I finished my last class for my Web design certificate, quit my part-time job and went on a babymoon to Atlanta. (Wow, that was only a year ago?!)

That sudden amount of free time allowed me to dive in to working on Elle's nursery. I tackled several decorative aspects and then went crazy assembling furniture.

When I put together the crib, Tim was at work. About every 10 minutes, I debated waiting to finish the crib until Tim came home, because there were parts that would really have been a lot easier as a two-person job.

"Hey guys! I'm done
with my nap now!"

Last week, I had to LOWER THE CRIB MATTRESS. Because about two days after Elle started sitting up in her crib - a position we'd find her in when we went to get her in the morning and when she woke from naps - I found her pulling up on the crib. (In fact, I apparently scared her when I found her like that - I was shocked at what I was seeing! - and she started bawling when I walked in.) Although "Lower the crib mattress" was on my to-do list for my days off, it was suddenly thrust to the top of the list and was done before she went to bed that night.

But as I did it, I remembered, again, that it would have been easier with two people (although honestly, it wasn't bad with one person compared to the initial crib assembly). And I remembered putting all of the furniture in that nursery together, when I was still pregnant. Now there's this nine-month old living in that room, a little girl I had to try to preoccupy so she wouldn't crawl around the crib while I was working. 

Those nine months of pregnancy? I thought those went fast. Then I had a baby. And seemingly the next day, I was lowering the mattress.

Time, retained.

Sophomore year
of high school.

When I was in high school, like many teens, I had braces. When I got the braces off (after what seemed like 20 years but was really more like two), I got retainers.

The top retainer came out - for meals at first, then later, during the day, requiring attention only at night. The bottom retainer, however, was cemented behind my bottom teeth. When I left the orthodontist after my last appointment, I was told that the glue holding the bottom retainer on wouldn't budge. This would be key, seeing as how I "needed to keep the bottom retainer at least until I turned 30."

To my high school self, that day seemed an eternity away. Eons. High school graduation stood between me and 30. College loomed between me and that decade. Major life experiences to be had, people to meet, retainers to curse.

Over the years, that retainer has mocked me: "At least until you're 30! At least until you're 30!" Over and over, I silenced it - 30 was still so, so far away.

Alas, today is my birthday. I am 30. The elusive day that seemed to be so far off has arrived. The retainer will not magically fall out, but now if it were to loosen or pop loose, I wouldn't be struck down by the orthodontic gods.

I was doing fine with this big milestone until the last few days. Then, as my birthday week neared and my coworker decorated my desk with streamers and little confetti "30s," I realized my 20s were all but over. But then I realized that a) there's nothing I could do to change that and b) maybe that isn't so bad after all.

The first 30 years of my life have been amazing, full of people, memories, learning experiences and opportunities that I wouldn't trade for the world. The disappointments, successes, heartaches, loves,  sorrows and joys of the past three decades have sculpted me in to who I am today.

In my "dreams of life at age 30," I don't think I ever pictured this life - but I couldn't have imagined anything better. I have an awesome family, some pretty spectacular friends, a solid career and my health.

Last year on this day, things were a bit different. But by far, the event of the last 365 days that was the coolest and most life-altering:

I kid, I kid (although trust me, I'll never forget their anniversary!)

No, the best part of the past year is one that makes the first 28.5 seem like a blip on the radar of life - the thing that changed who I'll be for all of my future birthdays:

I can't wait to see what the next 30 years has in store.

P.S. Did you know Alfred Hitchcock died 31 years ago today? Seriously. And if you see Jerry Seinfeld, Uma Thurman or Michelle Pfeiffer today, wish them a happy birthday, too :)

Teeth!

For the last few months, I've checked Elle's gums for any sign of teeth. Up, down, no sign. Her gums have been swollen, she's drooled, she's shoved anything and everything in her mouth, but still, no teeth. At our last well-baby visit two months ago, the pediatrician said she didn't see signs of them coming any time soon.

So on Wednesday, for some reason, I checked her gums after her lunch. And felt something. And then, after prying her mouth open (she thought this was a fun game), saw TWO somethings.

I have no idea why these two little teethlets made me so excited, but I started hysterically shrieking "Baby, you have teeth!!!!!!!!!!! You have TEETH!!! BABYOHMYGOSHYOUHAVETEETH!"

And Elle thought this was hilarious. As I jumped up and down, ordered Tim to come feel them and continued my hysteria, Elle grinned and grinned. Every time I said something about teeth for the rest of the day, she just smiled like she thought I was a moron - but she'd humor me.

"Mommy, you're silly. Of course I have teeth. Duh."

I kinda feel like the grin was part "Wow, you're just noticing?!" and part "Mom, you're embarrassing me." But I swear, I had no reason to think they were popping up. The babysitter had mentioned teething the week before, mostly because Elle was eating anything and everything. (Again, something that, like most babies, she'd been doing for months.) When we flew home for my grandma's funeral, Elle slept a little bit more (like on the planes and at night) and nursed a little bit more, but I chalked that up to being off schedule and traveling. When we returned, it was similar, but I figured it was just her adjusting to being back home and back to routine. (And really, a baby that sleeps a bit more during and after a big trip? Not a huge cause for concern in my book.)

While we were in Ohio and PA, she started spitting up again, something she hadn't been doing for several weeks. My brother and sister-in-law guessed that she was teething - their daughter, who is just a month older than Elle, does the same thing before she gets teeth. The day we found the teeth, Elle woke up with a dirty diaper - something that hasn't happened since her first few weeks of life. And then she had two other dirty diapers before noon. A fellow blogger had said her son's digestive system was all over the place right before he got teeth, too, and was alarmed at the poo that made morning appearances. But I had imagined the worst of teething experiences - that she'd wake up during the night, be inconsolably fussy, have fevers, diaper rashes, pure misery for weeks on end - any symptom of teething that I had heard about, I was sure we'd see it.

So to be blindsided by the teeth that Elle had so calmly and casually welcomed on her own? I was dumbstruck.

And I guess I was so hysterically excited because this is just such a huge milestone to me. I don't know why, but the fact that this little person now has little person teeth makes her such a bigger little person to me. And the fact that she did it with such little fuss, an absence of fanfare? That made her all the more "Best Baby Ever" to me. Gravity assisted in her in rolling. Curiosity helped her pull herself across the room. Passage of time gave her solids to try. But the gummy grin that marked her infancy - made her so innocent, defenseless and helpless - is quickly on its way to extinction because she's growing up. Already, she drags her tiny teeth buds against her spoon. Tries to crunch food on the teeny tips of pearl. These teeth have purpose, and so does Elle.

Tim said, "Way to go, Baby! Now you need to work on hair." Sigh. The boy is never satisfied! I asked him if the Tooth Fairy could pay Elle a visit (told you guys I was excited about this). Every time I talked to him that day, he asked me if the baby still had teeth.

She does. And she's going to get more. And then they'll fall out. And then she'll need braces. But for now: Two teeth for our baby girl.

Wordless Wednesday: What we found on Tuesday

Her two bottom teeth!
(More on this to come in a not-so-"wordless" post.)

Sitting pretty

"What, Mom? This is small potatoes. Sitting is for babies."

Elle has been sitting unassisted for brief periods of time for several weeks. Nothing so stable that I would step away from her or let her play around on a cement floor, but enough that I could let go and watch her sit. (Some readers might remember the fun I had with her instability in video form.)

She might have been sitting unassisted for extended periods of time around our babysitters, but Tim and I hadn't seen it - until today.

I'm deeming her seven-month birthday as the mark of the unassisted sitting milestone. I was playing with her this morning and she had a few wobbles - but steadied herself. She sat and played with some blocks while I took photos, and she didn't fall. Later, she sat on a picnic table at a baseball game. And then tonight I parked her on the floor to show Tim.

Our little girl is growing up!

Wha?!

I'm sorry - how is it Elle's half-birthday already?! We had an unusually rough night last night, and we ended up being lazy in bed until late morning. I opened my eyes at 11:30 - Elle was officially six months and two minutes old.

It is incredibly hard to believe that her first year is halfway over.

A year ago - 13.5 weeks pregnant.

Six months ago - minutes old.

Six months minus one week ago - seven days out of the oven.

26 weeks old. Wow.

Six months. So big! (And still no poop.)