Sunday, January 30, 2011

The joys of packing tape.

When Alice turned one, my friend Jenn who has a soon to be one year old, asked me if we could still call them our babies. I replied that my parents still call me their baby so it is probably okay. But in all honesty, the Lady Baby is now just the Little Lady. She is not a baby anymore. I have always thought of a year as a long time. However, this last year has flown by. A year ago I was a brand new mom who had this new little person that I had to keep alive. She slept all day and none at night, barfed constantly, and had a crazy mohawk. I still have a little person that I am trying to keep alive with crazy hair, but the barfing has ceased and she is a great little sleeper (most of the time!). However, she has gotten way smarter.

The amount of change that occurs in the first year is seriously mind boggling. Rolling, to crawling, to attempting to walk. Babbling to starting to talk. A baby blob to a real little person with a very big personality. I loved having a newborn, but this stage is so much fun. She is learning so much so fast, it is a wonder that her little head has not blown off. Now instead of having to worry about SIDS and a soft spot, I have to worry about electrical sockets, cords and basically anything that is not nailed down. The child is into everything. I fish foreign objects out of her mouth on almost an hourly basis. Even if I have just vacuumed she manages to find the one leaf or small piece of paper that I missed.  The funniest part is she knows she is being naughty so she run-crawls (that means crawls super fast and frantic) away chewing as fast as she can. It is less than easy to get a very soggy scrap of paper out of a one year old's mouth. Especially when she is determined to not let you near it.  Once she was crawling and could get on her knees, the cable box became her favorite thing to mess with. The worst was when she figured put how to turn it off and on. I don't appreciate my General Hospital disrupted. The plexiglass cover sold at Babies R Us served as more fun, as she would pull it off and bang the floor with it. Good job safety people. Finally we outsmarted her by using packing tape to tape the cover to the cable box. Though she has worked hard at rippling it off, she has yet to be able to figure it out. Instead she bangs on the top of the box and shouts. One point for the parents. Once we thwarted her efforts with the cable box, she moved on to the vents. She pulled out the metal vents and then those were also used to bang on the floor. She enjoys percussion in all its forms. Out came the packing tape again, and the vents are now secured to the floor and unmovable by amazing little baby fingers.  Her highness's latest trick is pulling the "childproof" socket covers out. Seriously. Did they test these with a dexterous one year old? Me thinks not. If they had they would know that they are crap. The kicker is that I have a package of 50, all pointless. Obviously designed by the same childless person who came up with the cable box cover.  As Alice grows and changes, mom and dad have to really stay on our toes. Thank god for packing tape. I feel like by the time she is two, half the stuff in our house will be taped down. I think that I will start giving a value pack of tape as shower gifts.

A part of me misses my tiny baby. She would let me hold her without squirming and she would sleep anywhere. Now after a few minutes she presses out with all four limbs in an attempt to dislodge herself from my arms. Very annoying, but I get it. She wants to explore and crawl around and find paper to eat. However, what she doesn't understand is that no matter how much she tries to break free, I am just not going to let her crawl around Target.  I love that as she gets older she gets more expressive and interactive. Nothing is better than that little smiling face and to hear her laugh when she is playing with her daddy. It cracks me up that she is now copying things. The other day she was pushing her sleeves up (Anthony does this all the time) and she now put her hands on her hips (which is my thing). I am realizing how important it is now for interaction and learning experiences. I now constantly label things and make animal sounds. I certainly hope my house isn't bugged or the people in the white coats will be coming to cart me off very soon. I don't care if I sound crazy though, because she gets it. She is starting to understand what a cow says and where Daddy is. It is exciting to see her grow and change and learn new things.

I am sure in the future there will be at least one more baby in this house (not yet people, don't get excited) and when that happens we will love every minute of infancy again. But for the time being we are busy watching our first born as she grows and changes and becomes her own person. It is so exciting to watch her learn new things by the minute. She is learning to walk, and once she takes off she will officially be leaving babyhood behind and be running head on to being a kid. Anthony and I will have to stay on our toes, otherwise Alice will tear our house down and eat all of our magazines. I suppose if she gets too out of hand, we can always use our packing tape to secure one foot to the ground.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Worst Blogger in History

I knew this would happen. It has been six shameful months since I last wrote something. You can only imagine how full my lint trap is. It is amazing my head has not caught on fire like those dryers you hear about in college dorms. Life has once again gotten away from me and all of the sudden all this time has passed. What is even worse is that it was one of my New Year's Resolutions to write more often, and it still took me until the 21st to make that happen. I wish I could blame some extenuating circumstances, but really life has just gotten in the way. Not big life stuff, just the little nitty gritty things that are always happening that mash up into a regular busy life. Grocery store, diaper changes, work, feeding the dog, baths, dinners, all blended up with a dash of laziness and you get a busy girl who is unmotivated to write.
Some much has happened since I last wrote. I ran a 10K, Alice was the cutest lamb ever for Halloween, a winter fit for Antarctica has blown in, Christmas came and left us with cookie hangovers, and it is a new year. The lady baby is no longer a baby, which is the the most exciting thing of late. She turned one and has decided teeth and walking are both a necessary part of life and is working on both.
New Years resolutions are not usually my cup of tea. I prefer not to set myself up for failure. It is painful enough not to meet my goals. It is worse to heap on added pressure that if I fail my year will be ruined. Blech. In fact, I am not really a person who is overly concerned about goals. Sometimes they work for me, like a setting a date for a race to motivate to run more. But more often than not goals do nothing but make me feel guilty. I live more by the notion that if I do my best than that is good enough, and things will happen like they are supposed to. I know, I can feel people rolling their eyes, especially my husband. He has all kinds of goals, mostly for doing things like paying off credit cards and for career advancement. I can safely say I never really had career goals. Probably why I have never really had much of a career. My goals tend to be more touchy feely, vaguish notions. Like, be happy. I mean, what better goal? If you are happy than everything else is more than likely pretty good in the rest of your life. I have just wrapped up all those little goals into one big one. I would rather try to achieve happiness than try to eat 6 vegetables a day or read a book a week. I know that eating healthier makes you feel better which leads to feeling happier. When I am reading I am always happy, so why make rules about what and how much? It seems like it takes unnecessary brain power that I should most definitely be using in other areas of my life, like keeping the princess alive and making a grocery list.
I understand that some people function better with goals, I just am not one of them. I prefer to be married to one. Then I get to ride the coattails of his quest for goal fulfillment, and he gets to benefit from my happy go lucky, the world is a lovely place attitude. It works--we smile a lot and the credit cards get paid. I don't think everyone should be like me. If they were, the world would probably be a fairly disorganized place. We need goal oriented people--they are the ones that keep the earth turning neatly on its axis and keep the world economy from collapsing while vacuuming because it is Thursday and reading the collected works of Dickens. All the while we non-goal peeps are smiling and cleaning our houses willy-nilly. Don't get me wrong--I don't think the goal loving set is unhappy. Quite the opposite, I think they are the type who understand their fulfillment by how they are doing in regards to their goals. They are often very happy, and enjoy that they can quantify their happiness in a distinct way. My peeps, we just measure our feelings and give life a thumbs up or down and move on.
I feel like we as a society are focused on goals and it is grounds for shunning to say that you don't think they are necessary for life improvement. I will own my fast and loose ways and continue to shoot for the biggies like health and happiness and hope the rest falls into place. But I will try to keep this one little goal of writing more...


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