How I Got My Groove Back – The Holiday Version
Last Christmas, Ava was only 18 months old. She wasn’t really into the whole lights, presents, gorge-yourself-until-you-spew aspect of the holiday. I was only mildly disappointed in her reaction to the 80 billion Christmas lights we strung up in the house. I knew her time was coming.
Fast forward a year. Ava is now 2 1/2. Every Christmas decoration we pass makes her giggle with delight. In Target, we spend a good hunk of our time just sitting in the tree section while she gazes wondrously at all the lights and exclaiming CHRISTMAS TREE over and over for the whole store to hear. It does no good to ask her to turn her volume down a bit. She’s simply too over come with excitement.
A house on our street has their yard decorations up, complete with an inflatable Charlie Brown and Snoopy, who just happen to be one of Ava’s current obsessions. I slow down each night as we near that house so that she can get a good look. Hearing the delight in her voice? Makes my heart oh, so happy.
I decided about a week ago I was going to get Ava her very own little tree. One that was pre-lit (she adores the colors of the lights). I hit up Target on Wednesday, only to discover they were sold out. Crap. I had been imagining the joy on her little face for days and I left highly disappointed. Not to be defeated, I cruised through Wal-Mart last night. Ding, ding, ding! Winner. A tree, and 4 packs of non breakable ornaments for under $30. SCORE!
I packed it all in my car, and picked up Ava. We headed home and had dinner. I kept the tree in my car, wanting to surprise her after she ate. I knew if I brought it out before dinner, my chances of getting her to actually eat anything would be worse than my chances of winning the next Power Ball.
While she played on the floor with her cars, I sneaked out to my car and brought in the tree. I de-boxed it. (If that’s not a word, it should be) I straightened out all the branches. I grabbed the video camera with one hand, and the tree with the other and headed down the hall.
That girl simply exploded with joy. I’ve never seen her so full of happiness and excitement. We plugged it in, and I opened up all the ornaments. We spent 15 minutes with her directing where they should go. Then? An hour admiring it. And saying CHRISTMAS TREE!
This morning, it was the second thing out of her mouth. When I left for work, she was sitting beside it, getting ready to direct her father on where it should be placed next in the house.
That little girl once again reminded me of what this season is about. Family. Joy. Doing something for others. She’s my family. Making her happy is all that I need. She may not remember this Christmas. But I certainly will. Thank you, baby girl. For giving me so much joy. I hope I can always give as much back to you.
Two Plus
You can put on your own shoes, without any help from me.
All bodies of water, whether they be rivers, ponds or lakes, to you, are called oceans.
You like to sit with an iPod and watch “Woogies” (Movies)
You very rarely have to be prompted to say Thank You.
You are obsessed with Alvin and the Chipmunks. You always want to cuddle for certain parts of the film.
You put your hands on your hips and sigh when something doesn’t go your way.
At the dinner table, when we are finished eating, you place your chin in your hands, look at one of us and say “So….” As if you are asking us to tell you about our day.
You love bubble baths and would spend hours in there, until the water is icy cold, if you were allowed to.
You love to play doctor and give everyone shots with your little syringe. After each shot, you always say “Sorry”.
Our current nickname for you is Silly Goose. And you often say “I’m a silly goose”.
You love to twirl. You spin round and round with your eyes pointed opposite the direction that you are traveling. It is known as Psycho Eyes.
You have a new-found love for your toy kitchen. You cook things and then place them in the fridge to cool down, just as mommy and daddy do with your food at dinner.
You no longer sleep alone, but with a menagerie of stuffed friends: Bear, Monkey, Abby, Puppy and Kitty. Pretty soon there will not be room in the bed for you!
You love having your toenails painted, or as you call it, making them pretty.
Everything has dead batteries if it doesn’t operate the way you think it should.
You hug freely and often now, the sweet girl I had hoped would be on the other side of the terrible twos shining through in small flashes.
All these things, on their own, are small things. Added up, they make up who you are and why I adore you so much.
Keep twirling, baby girl.
24 Months
Today, my little sunshine, you are two. Two years old. Twenty four months. How can it seem so long and yet seem like no time at all?
Last year you were still a baby. You took your first steps on your first birthday. Now? You run. You run everywhere, with a wiggle to your bottom and a spring in your step.
Last year you didn’t talk much. This year you are constantly saying words and I think “when did that happen?” You can open doors, and also close them. You can climb steps. You gave up the bath in favor of the shower. Unless there are bubbles involved in that bath, then all bets are off. You feed yourself, you’re starting to drink from “big girl cups”. You wear shoes that light up when you walk. Everything I do, I have a little helper now. Laundry, dishes, making the bed, sweeping the floor. You want in on all the action.
Every day I see you gain a fraction more independence. It makes me proud. It makes me sad. One day I know you won’t need my help. One day I know you will leave to start a life and a family of your own. Every moment, every discovery takes you one step farther away from me. But not from my heart. My heart will always belong to you, baby girl. You’ve had it from the moment you were put into my arms. It will remain yours till the day I die.
I adore you sweet Avacakes. Thank you for two wonderful, sweet, love filled years. Happy birthday, my love.
I Have A Friend
I have a friend.
I have a friend who thinks she’s not beautiful, but she is. Inside and out, she has beauty unlike any I have ever seen. Eyes that are deep and soulful. A million watt smile.
I have a friend who thinks she’s depressing, but she’s not. She is on a bumpy stretch of highway that is but a temporary detour to a smooth road ahead. It is ok to talk about the bumps. It’s ok to cry. It is ok to just be. Those who love you understand.
I have a friend who is a good friend. Even when she is down, she always manages to have a kind word of encouragement for her friends. She is always willing to kick a behind if needed. Or to hold out a hand in friendship, if asked for.
I have a friend who is funny, who makes me smile when I see her picture or her name. Even through the dark days, she has always made me laugh.
I have a friend who wishes things were perfect, who wishes she were more in control of where things are headed. Sometimes, though, it can be freeing to let go of the reins, even though it might be scary at first. Sometimes, you can’t have perfection, but just enjoy those perfect little moments as they come along.
I have a friend who is an awesome mom. She worries that she is missing out. She worries that he is missing out. However, what he is witnessing is a mom who never gives up. A mom who fights and keeps going. A mom who is strong. He will be a strong man, because of the mom that he has now.
I have a friend. A friend named Lu. I am very lucky to call her my friend. If you are lucky enough to call her a friend, too, tell me your favorite Lu moment. Tell me what YOU love about Lu.
Today I Am Mommy
When I was pregnant with Ava, I spent a lot of time playing imaginary movies in my head. Scenes from the future. Imagining my daughter being handed to me for the first time. Seeing a trip to the park. A pre-teen girl going shopping with me. I saw flashes of a life to be. Most of all? I imagined a sweet little girl looking up at me and saying “Mommy”.
When Ava started babbling at around 8 or 9 months old, I was terribly excited. She made all the usual sounds that most babies that age make. And like almost every other kid out there, she said Dada first. She would mutter mummum at times, but it was clear that she wasn’t indicating me when she said it.
Over the months, Dada has morphed into Daddy. She quite obviously means Darin when she says it. In the mornings when she wakes up, one of the first three words out of her mouth is always Daddy! However, the closest I have gotten up to now is hearing her yell : “MAMAMAMAMAMA!! And let me tell you, she isn’t asking for me when she says that. She is pissed off with a Capital P.
My daughter has turned my name into a curse word.
She knows who I am. If you ask her to point to her mommy, she points to me. For some reason up until last night, she just never felt the need to say it.
Until last night. We were finishing up dinner and having a silly chat. Like I do almost every night, I ask her if she loves Daddy, if she loves Mommy, Gramma, Grandpa, etc. I also asked her, again, like every night “Where’s Mommy?” Sometimes she’ll point at me. Sometimes she won’t.
Last night, not only did she point at me, she uttered the word I’ve been waiting almost 2 years to hear. Mommy.
She repeated it on the phone with me this morning. Mommy.
I know I’ve always been her mommy. I have been from the moment she was conceived. But, oh how my heart swells to hear her say it. Finally, today, I am Mommy.
Dear Avacakes
Dear Avacakes,
Today isn’t your birthday, your half birthday or anything of the sort. However, I just felt the need to write you this letter today. You see, you are growing up and changing so fast it is hard to keep up with all that you do. I want to freeze time and I want every silly thing you do to be ingrained in my memory forever.
Last night I bought you a potty chair. It completely freaked me out. It is such a huge step forward in independence for you. I know in 15 years you will read this and your eyes will roll into the back of your head as you say “Mom!” But right now, you are still my sweet baby girl. The sweet girl who puckers her lips with a goofy half grin when asked for a kiss. You willingly come over and throw your arms around me when I ask you for a hug. Once in a great while you will do those things without prompting. And when you do? Oh, how you melt my heart.
I love the nightly routine we have somehow fallen into. We get home from Gramma’s house and fix (or unwrap) dinner. We all sit at the table, you in your big girl booster seat. At least two dozen times during dinner I will have to stop and clean your hands. Which, ahem, would not get so dirty if you would consent to using a fork or spoon a bit more often. Also, not content to drink from your own cup, Daddy will have to share his cup of water with you, him holding while you take a few gulps, sometimes ending up with an ice cube to the face in your exuberance to tip the cup back. You also find the food on my plate far more interesting that what is on your own, even when it’s the same thing.
Eventually, though, we do get done with mealtime. If it’s bath night, generally speaking, you have already taken that bath while Mommy made dinner. I enjoy the sounds of laughter and splashing as I race around the kitchen. After dinner is jammy time. You head to Mommy and Daddy’s room, where you slip into warm, soft jammies. That task completed, it’s time for the final activity of the night; a cuddle on the bed with Mommy and Daddy, with your two best blankets, of course. We settle in and watch a few minutes of your current favorite show, Caillou. You rock back and forth to the theme song, flinging your arms out wide at the end, just like Caillou does. Then you settle back, cuddled against your parent of choice for the evening and watch one story. When it’s over, we turn the television off and you grasp your blankets tightly and head down the hall to your room. You know it is night- night time. One of us picks you and cradles you in our arms. We both kiss you, whisper softly to you, instructing you to have a good night and only pleasant dreams. Sometimes I sing “You Are My Sunshine”, depending on your readiness for your bed. We put you in your crib, turn down the light and say one last “I love you” as we close your door.
Most nights you fall asleep rather quickly. All we hear is a few rustles through the monitor as you get comfortable. Some nights we hear Ava-speak. Bababa. Dadada. Yeaaaaaaah. Hiiiiiiiiii! It doesn’t last long. Soon you are sound asleep; the only sounds to be heard are the soft breaths you take.
That is a typical evening with you, Avacakes. Of course I left out the tantrum you had because you didn’t get your hand cleaned quickly enough. I didn’t mention the meltdown that ensued because I wouldn’t let you empty the fridge door shelves. I never even think about how mad you get when I won’t turn on the Veevee (TV) until after dinner. And honestly? All those things are ok. They are all part of this journey you are on. I feel so blessed to be along for it. But please don’t grow up too fast. Your mommy needs so many more hugs and kisses.
Love,
Mommy
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