You Got A Little Somethin' On Your Face

She Like To Move It, Move It : Annie, 10 months

Annie. Annie, Annie, Annie. Let me begin this letter to you by offering my sincerest apologies for being so negligent with these monthly letters. If you could count, you would see that 5 months have passed since my last update on you. Five months!! Good grief, Annabel, that is like 5 years in baby time. I am so sorry. Turns out, finding time to write in the midst of our crazy life is easier said than done and some days it came down to making a choice between feeding you and your brother or writing. I'm pretty sure I made the right choice....I'm a great mom like that.

You have changed so much in so many ways and yet you are still very much the same sweet girl I brought home from the hospital. The main differences being that you are about 14 pounds heavier (lordy!!) and you now have 2 teeth. Oh yeah....you are also fully mobile, much to your brother's horror. But other than that, you are still that girl. So sweet. And so, so happy.





Way back when you were 5 months old you were successfully rolling over front to back, but no way no how were going to be on your belly. Nope. Nuh-uh. Um yeah...that has totally changed. In fact, you celebrated your 10th month of life by crawling for the first time. We waited forever for that to happen. You see, once you finally realized that tummy time was not the baby equivalent of chinese water torture, you started scooting, rolling, inching, creeping, everything *but* crawling. You got to where you needed to go, that's for sure, but it took you forever and lucky for Liam, it was pretty obvious what was motivating your journey, so he always had enough time to snatch that treasure out of your stealthy little reach before you were able to do anything really awful, like play with one of his toys. That is not the case any longer and not only are you crawling, girl, you are quick, and Liam is about to lose his mind with your single-minded obsession with all things that belong to him. I think you two are in what the experts call a "transition period". I am likening it to WWIII, but then again, I am in the trenches with you two every day.





You still love him like a fool. Idolize him. Worship him. Honestly, some days I can't imagine why because he is going through quite a "phase" himself. But nevertheless, you cannot get enough of him. You are not fazed one single bit by his screaming fits, his spitting (actually, this you love which is not at all helpful), his snatching of toys or, most annoying to momma, his *constant* policing of all you do. On the contrary, you find him endlessly amusing. He is quite a character, I give you that. But in all seriousness, my birdie girl, I hope you never lose that patience for him and you are always able to see his sweet, kind, gentle, funny and loving spirit beneath all of the exterior annoyances. He needs that in you, that acceptance and love and I hope that when it's all said and done, sibling rivalry aside, you will always be each other's champions.

When we last checked in you were just beginning to venture into the world of solid foods (Wow..it has really been a long time) and you were still spitting up. Well, I am happy to report that your reflux is a thing of the past and has been for, oh I don't know, 4 months now (bad, bad momma). You, in fact, are now *so*over baby food. You want the real stuff. The "grown-up" stuff. And nothing I eat while holding you is safe from your clutches or your alligator jaw chomp-chomp-chomping at my hand. You look like those giant koi at the zoo, your little O of a mouth opening and closing indicating your need for sustenance. The other day you got your mouth wrapped around a pickle I was was trying to eat and received the shock of your life. I wish I could bottle that look to laugh at later. It was pretty damn funny. So, needless to say, we give you the good stuff now, but we also have to force the baby stuff on you too since you haven't quite mastered the whole feeding yourself thing and for every one piece of food you grab off your tray, another 50 end up in your lap and on the floor. Consequently, you have become Levi's best friend.

You are babbling up a storm now. And you are still loud. Really, I would expect nothing less in this house. You say "mamamamama" (bestill my heart) and "dadadadada" (bestill his too) and you have your own special sounds for Liam and doggie. You shake your head back and forth and say "nanananana" and laugh at your cleverness. You clap your hands whenever you do something you are proud of...namely climbing and perching onto things that are not meant to be climbed and perched on. And you shake your head and bounce up and down to music. Your are particularly fond of the banjo. Who knows? You smack at my face or pull at my hair when I am not paying you proper attention, which really does nothing to endear me to you, but you often accompany it with 'mmmaaammm", so I become clay in your pudgy little hands. You are still one of the smiliest, happiest babies around but I am now also learning that you are quite head strong too. Shocking. Sigh. Heaven help your momma.




It's been a fast and furious 5 months, Miss Annie. When I think about how last year at this very moment you were still kickin' it in my belly, it barely seems believable. And when I think about how in 7 short weeks we will celebrate your first birthday, well....well...Well, I just started crying in the middle of Starbucks as I wrote that, so there you go. It is miraculous and wonderful and bittersweet to think about. My life has grown infinitely better because of you.

You keep on truckin', girl.

I love you.

Momma

FOUR

Liam -

Right now, I am listening to you through our shared wall as you sing "Happy Birthday" to yourself...the "look like a monkey" version. And then listen as you laugh at your wit. And then listen more as you tell your buddies about your gifts and which one was your favorite (the electric pencil sharpener, of course). And it hits me that you may actually remember this birthday next year...and the year after that. And when you are a grown up, you may even remember this birthday as being one of your favorites and that makes me smile because you are making your own memories now, memories that won't be filtered through me. And while I fret about the way our day started...yelling, tears....I know that years from now you will only remember the happy parts, like that dang electric pencil sharpener, and that makes me feel a little better.



This year has been pretty amazing. Lots of new stuff. Lots of adjusting. Lot of acceptance. Lots of patience. Or rather, the need for lots of adjusting, lots of acceptance and lots (LOTS) of patience. They were not so easily come by, but we got there.

You became a big brother almost 9 months ago. You liked it at first. Loved your new baby sister while she and mommy lived at the hospital. You clearly were not counting on us bringing her home. That's where the adjusting came in. Then when she was home, she cried. All. The. Time. That's where patience came in. Then she started to smile at you, and laugh when you made silly sounds or ran around the house like a loon, and looked for you as soon she heard your voice. And that is when the acceptance started happening. I don't think that you actually remember your life without Annie. You talk about the past and include her in it. I don't bother to tell you she hasn't always been around because as far as your concerned, the two of you entered this world together and that is how you like it. Works for me.

I think that deep down you are aware of this, but let me just spell it out for you anyway. That little girl loves you with all of her being. She adores you. You are her hero. And you are her very best friend. When I see the way she looks at you and the way you take care of her, I am thankful that you will always have each other as you walk through this world. As she gets older she will get into your space, touch your stuff and drive you mad. And at some point, you will do the same. And you will both take a kind of perverse pleasure in pissing each other off. But you will always have this beginning to fall back on...this time of hero worship and adoration...and you will always have moments in between all the bickering when you are best friends again. That's the way it works. The memories will always be yours and hers to share and they will bind you forever. You are two very lucky kids.

I am very proud of you for stepping up to this big brother role. It was hard, I know. It was hard for mommy to think of you as the big boy you are because you will always be my first sweet baby. But I needed to show you that I had faith in you. That I knew you could share me with your sister, take care of yourself a little more and learn to be a part of a bigger family. You've done such a good job, Liam.



You are such an interesting, curious little creature. Forever asking me "why" and "how" and very supportive when I don't know the answer. And I mean truly-don't-know, not leave-me-alone-for-the-love-of-god don't know. You like to say to me, "it's okay Mommy, I know you can do it". Or "come on Mommy, let's both think about it", and then "hmmmmmmm" as you ponder the ways of the universe. Or how vacuums work, as the case may be. I didn't think I would run out of answers by the time you turned 4, but you stump me almost daily, buddy. Hopefully, with a little help from Google, I will keep you convinced of my genius for at least a couple of more years.

You are very funny and are beginning to tell jokes. The same jokes. All the time. But no matter, you think you are HILARIOUS and when we stop guffawing after the 10th telling of "why did the chicken cross the road", you help us out by demanding that we laugh. Loud and hard. Sometimes you even give us an example of how you would like our laughs to sound, which is very helpful, not to mention very funny, so then the laughs come easily again. I have been trying to teach you knock knock jokes to mix things up a bit, but you haven't quite got the delivery down yet. For now, you are happy to move on to all the "potty words" and think there is nothing funnier than saying things like "pee pee poo poo diaper baby" or replying "a piece of poop" when asked what you would like for a snack. Very low brow, Liam, but I will cut you a break seeing as how you're only four and all...and given your lineage, you really can't help it. I do draw the line at tooting at the table, though. Not funny, little man. Not funny at all. And no, the general rule is NOT "the stinkier the better", no matter what Daddy might say.

You love to dance right now. And sing. I have never heard anything as sweet as your little voice singing a song from one of your favorite shows or from school. You love to have sing-a-longs and learn new tunes and you really love to make up your own words to songs you already know.....which brings us back to the whole "potty words" scene. Such a boy. You love all of those Richard Scarry books and cartoons (thanks, daddy). You could look over the Busy Town books for hours and hours. This year has seen you find your imagination, pretending to be characters and neighborhood heroes. You are crazy about firefighters and fire stations and dress up in your "gear" almost daily. When I ask you if you would like to he a firefighter when you grow up you say no because it is too dangerous and fire is too hot. Hallelujah!

You are still obsessed to distraction with all tools and engines and gadgets of every kind. I really don't know why we bother buying toys for you as a light switch, a dial and a couple of knobs is enough to keep you busy for days. You also still love lawn equipment of every size, shape and function and the first place you try to check out upon arriving at someone's house is their garage. You wax poetic over leaf blowers and edgers and trimmers and I try very hard to keep my eyes from glazing over after the 100th re-telling of how they all work. You also love to cook. It is your favorite activity at preschool and would be your favorite activity at home if I actually allowed you to participate in preparing every meal, as you often request. Momma does not have a lot of patience in that department, but I am working on it. I love that you want to be a "helper" and my job is to find you jobs that you can do without making me crazy with control. I'm trying.



My sweet Pickle, I just cannot believe that you have already lived four years on this Earth. It has just flown by. Well, most of the days have flown by and to be truthful, there is much about this year that I regret. Time lost, minutes wasted to frustration, anger, and impatience. But I won't dwell on my mistakes here in this birthday letter to you. Just suffice it to say that it wasn't always easy for us this year. Being three years old has been pretty tricky. You thought you had it all figured and were bound and determined that things were going to go your way. So was your momma. We had arguments. Lots of them. Momma can be really stubborn and compromise just does not exist in the world of a three year old. A recipe for disaster if ever there was one. You discovered talking back, ignoring, tantrums, and a sudden fascination with all words you are not supposed to say. Some days I wondered where the sweet (albeit sassy) boy I knew had disappeared to. You got into trouble. A lot. You went to time out. A lot. You got really mad at mommy. A lot. But we survived this year with minimal damage, time has been on our side and I think you are figuring things out. And more importantly, so am I. It is your nature to test boundaries to their breaking point. Sometimes past their breaking point. Over and over again. There have been times that I think you are never going to learn, but then you surprise me and make a good choice in a bad situation and I know that you are beginning to think about your actions and your words a little more. You are kind to your friends and respectful with adults and hearing you say to me " Thanks for being my mommy" makes me realize I am doing something right in raising you. Every single day that passes I see your sweet spirit and gentle heart come shining through and I am so proud of who you are.

I say this every year, Liam, and will continue for the rest of my days: You are my heart and soul, my very best boy and I love you, love you, love you. Thanks for being my kid.

XOXOXOX,

Momma

BFF (a Christmas miracle)

This morning I woke to a true winter wonder. Liam, he of if-I-ignore-the-baby-then-she-will-go-away-and-my-life-will-be-happy-again fame, not only acknowledged the existence of his sister, but actually requested the honor of her presence in his precious beanbag chair. Really. Then after her nap, proceeded to invite her to join him in his hallowed and heavily guarded sofa cushion fort. Really,really.

Proof positive that this really is the season of hope.

Because Forks Are Bor-ing

Minutes of amusement on a wet November day.
(and starring my homemade pumpkin muffins. Mmmmm)

They Do Break Bread....

Overheard in the car:


Liam: What is that building?

Daddy: It's a church.

Liam: Is a church a bakery?

Mommy: Um, no, not exactly.

Liam: Do they make donuts?

Mommy: No, buddy. A church is a place where people go to worship God.

Liam: What God?

Mommy: Wellll....God created the whole world and all of the people and animals and plants and trees and oceans.

Liam: Is he a boy or a girl?

Mommy: The popular opinion is that God is a man.

Liam: Why?

Mommy: That is what the bible says, that God is a man, and we call him our Heavenly Father.

Liam: Hey look...there is a spiky stick on top of that 'chuch'.

Daddy: Uh, Liam...that's a cross.

To Liam and Annie On This Historical Day-After

Yesterday, the citizens of our nation chose a man named Barack Obama to be our 44th President. What is particularly remarkable about this simple fact is that Barack Obama is black. Maybe by the time you are old enough to read this you will take this fact in stride. Or rather, by the time you are old enough to read this I hope you are able take this fact in stride, that race, gender, sexual identity...whatever the peripheral matters that often divide us now...will be nothing of consequence to you as you move through the world, choosing friends, mates, and yes, leaders. But today is a glorious day in the history of our nation.

Even for me, just a generation or two removed from the prejudice, intolerance, hatred and brutality that ran rampant through our country in the 50's and 60's (and, course, hundreds of years before), this is a momentous event. I grew up with no understanding whatsoever of why race and gender were qualifications (or disqualifications) for jobs, for friends, for lovers, for mates. Well, that's not exactly true. I grew up understanding that inequality existed and was even promoted, but it never made much sense to me. And while I often saw injustice around me, intolerance and hatred, I knew it was wrong, and I hope in most cases, spoke up for the downcast, even if mine was the lone voice of dissent. Your grandma and grandpa raised me well, with an eye toward fairness and equality, paying forward the lesson they learned in their youth and quite possibly, from the choices and jaded opinions of their own parents and grandparents. So I can only imagine what this election has meant for them.

I wanted to tell you about this day without bringing politics into the discussion. Because, right now, it is not about policies and promises, taxes and programs. At least not for me. Not in this moment. It is about a country turning it's back on some very deeply rooted beliefs, beliefs that are centuries old and the basis for a very ugly part of our nation's history, beliefs that judged a person's value by the color of their skin and nothing more. Yesterday, a President was chosen because he was the best individual for the job. Okay...so that is probably getting a little political, if only vaguely so. But I guess what I am trying to get across to you is that the people who elected him into this highest office, your momma included, did so because they believed in him, in his message and in his ability to lead this beautiful and amazing country of ours. His race was inconsequential.

Despite the differing political beliefs you will hear floating around our home as you grow up, and despite the fact that daddy and I did not agree on who we believed would be the best choice for President in this election, I think that he would stand with me in saying that we are proud of the changing climate in our country. Proud that not only did we see an African American become President of the United States, but also saw a woman run for her party's nomination as their Presidential candidate. A culture of inequality and prejudice slowly (though not even close to completely) becoming a thing of the past. I think it gives us all hope. And I think we all stand a little taller today, regardless of our political convictions.

It is this kind of world we want to raise you in, my darlings, and the possibilities are endless.