Recently in Dear Sage Category

Twenty months

By Autumn on April 30, 2012 2:11 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

Here we are only four months away from your second birthday and you've finally come into toddler-hood full swing. Tantrums off and on all day, saying "mine", refusing to listen, running away, fighting diaper changes and clothing changes, and refusing to eat what you are given. It came a bit later than the toughest time with River (the pre-twos) and I know it will eventually pass. We'll find a groove, slide out of it, and then balance again. You are happiest when outdoors exploring and borderline miserable when inside our home. Bored with all your toys, you want interaction. When you aren't barging in on whatever River is trying to do, you are demanding I read book after book to you. The peace of our family is often broken by River yelling, "Mom! Sage is--" and your angry crying which usually involves you running away and facing a wall or chasing me around screaming. You and River play in small bursts before we go back to the previous sentence. He's frustrated or you are. Usually you are crying. So far, thanks be, you haven't begun hitting. River is on his way to sainthood with how calmly he usually manages you. It helps that you are such a challenge. It makes him look like an angel. I dread the day you guys team up against me!

You still love songs and are happy to watch children's songs on youtube. I like to sing to you kids. We play London Bridge a bit differently around here. You two run around me and then I snatch you into my lap. Well, we were playing this game when you got excited and ran away. You returned with a piggy bank toy which sings a song about dropping the coins into her and another song between oinks. You pushed her nose until one of the songs sang and then started running around me. Then it dawned on me. She was singing to the tune of London Bridge! I'd never noticed, but you had. You have an ear for music! Something you must get from your father who is an auditory learning. I'll keep flaunting my ability to hold a tune better than him, but music itself has never been my favorite. I do love to sing and so do you. Now you try your hardest to sing along to "Baby Beluga" with me.

I try introducing signs now and then. I taught you to sign for more after only three attempts, but then you began to say it. "More, cookies". So now I am working on the sign for please. You sometimes use it with one hand clawing insanely at your chest. You speak quite a bit now. Yesterday you escorted Daddy out the door by saying "Bye Bye, Daddy. Go Go Go. Door!" And you bodily pushed him out the door and slammed it behind him. This morning we had a broken conversation about where Daddy was in the morning. "Where Daddy?" "In River's room sleeping." "Daddy work?" "No, Daddy's sleeping in River's room." and then I had to drag you away from door you were banging on screaming for him. When we read simple books you identify most of the pictures. If you are unsure of a word, you say it and then look at me to confirm. This happens with fruit. Everything fruit was a banana last month. Now you know apple and banana. We're working on oranges. You know strawberries and berries and more food words than I assume most twenty month olds know. You are quick to accuse someone of being "messy", you say dirty diapers are "nasty" and you have begun jumping in guilt if I snap a "no!" at you when you know you are doing something you shouldn't. "My papi" you tell me when I try to take you pacifier. Your favorite color is surely yellow since it is the only one you know and talk about and point out. (and you say it correctly. Both River and his friend couldn't say yellow correctly for years!) The other day you said "green" and pointed at grass.

You are still using the potty. Some days you won't pee in it at all. Some days you pee three times in the potty. You know when you are peeing in it and that's a good start. I assume the transition to the potty won't be so weird once we get to that point especially since you already try to put on your brother's underwear. You copy everything he does. Naughty things too. If he has yogurt, you want it--even if you won't eat it. If he had on socks, you must get socks. It gets tedious after awhile but is very very sweet.

You are such a fangirl about things you love. If you see a beluga picture, you scream shrilly and run over. When you see my breasts as I change, same response. You now call them "mursies" and will ask for "mursies. Mommy mursies" and "other mursie". You point our your own nipples. If you catch sight of my naked breast, you scream, dance in place, run over chanting "Mursies. Mommy mursies." and then insist I bend down so you can lay a hand on my breast. As if to say hello. I find it adorable. I couldn't imagine not having a nursing toddler. It just seems so right that little ones get at least two years of breast milk. You show no signs of wanting to ween.

You have begun to drag out one of my old baby blankets and a stuffed monkey you have taken a fancy too whenever you are tired or what a snuggle. "Blanket. Monkey," you tell me. I wrap you and the monkey together in course rainbow yarn that once wrapped me. Then I hold you close and sing. You have grown so much this past month. You are looking two years old and photos from your first birthday seem so very long ago. There is something wondrous about watching you grow, not lessened by having seen your brother do the things you do just a few years before. Even in the midst of hard days (and there have been a lot this month) when I feel exhausted, bored, and trapped--I continue to marvel. The world unfolds for you, new and wondrous, and your smile brings back that magic to me.

Love,

Mommy

P.S. you insist on keeping the hood up on all you jackets!

Nineteen months

By Autumn on March 29, 2012 9:17 AM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

This past month has seen a lot of changes. You're on the go, go, go. Climbing down stairs alone, into the booster seat, using the potty one, two, or three times a day, and talking more and more. With River each milestone would have been encouraged, celebrated and captured on video. Your accomplishments come with a gentle smile. I knew you would get there and every change is a bitter sweet event as you leave your babyhood behind and develop further into your own little person. Now you walk by the stroller or push it instead of sit strapped inside. Or, if you do climb up there, you insist River push you and glare daggers at me until I release the handle bars (occasionally checking to make sure River is doing the pushing). On the local playground you are doing everything: the slides, the climbing net, the bridge. You are the second born: emulating your big brother, watching each of us carefully, growing up faster than your brother or with more ease as we've all been there before.

You are so not a cuddly child. I mean, this is nothing new. From day one you weren't a cuddly baby. Kisses and hugs are few and far between from you. You will fight River for my lap and affection though. Sometimes I sit there and watch you both squabble for a bit of my body until I have River pinning down my legs and you on my torso. O, the squabbles. I can get the kitchen cleaned with just you around--you'll play on the floor at my feet. I can do the same with just River-he'll read a book close by. Put you both together and it is a few mintues of laughter while you play, then he's whining about what you're doing or you begin angry crying about something he did. I cleaned two feet of kitchen counter over the course of an hour before I gave up. Still, even though you often loose your temper and River does like to torment you a bit, you do adore him. If he has his warm "feety" pajamas on, you have to put yours on too. River always insists on bringing a book into the car with him. Now you insist on doing the same, even trotting away from the door, fully ready to go, and not listening--flat out refusing to leave until you pick out a book for yourself. If you are going out and River is not coming, you will stand in the hall and yell for him over and over again. You will ask for him if he has been at school for awhile. Kid, you love your River.

You are talking so much. You told Daddy, "Daddy, go outside". When you wanted to go out for a walk you said the following, "Mommy's keys" and then "walk walk walk walk", "Daddy walk" and "Daddy shoes." But only I took you outside. "Goodnight, Daddy. Goodnight River.", you said. When I took you out, you ran and laughed at everything. You pointed to things and asked me to tell you their names and tried to repeat what I said. Then you stopped holding my hand and when I insisted either "hold hands" or "up", you held your own hand instead. River did the same damn thing and seeing you do it reminded me of River when he was 18 months old--around the time we moved here! That time seems so long ago but in fact was not long ago at all. But oh, you children change so quickly when you are very young. Like caterpillars morphing into butterflies or tadpoles growing legs and becoming frogs! Speaking of frogs, you love them. "Frogy" you say. "Tiger". You know a lot of animal names. You held my necklace and said, "Necklace." Once, you sat to put on your shoes and announced, "Ready! Ready!" You point out every flower and the flowers on your new shoes and clothes. "Flower. Flower." And you will only call one cat by name, "Doodle" you say and with a smile. The words child, they are happening all the time. If sometimes you call an apple a banana, it's all good and also sends your brother into fits of giggles.

It isn't all fun and sweetness around here. Sometimes you bite. You took a long time to start getting any teeth but now you're on a roll. After almost constant teething, you only have your canines and two year old molars left. This means we give you almost everything to eat, but it also somehow ended up that you took to biting. I was changing you diaper the other day and while I had you legs hoisted up to wipe some serious mud butt poop off your behind, you pulled my closest finger into your mouth and bit down as hard as you could. I had marks. I screamed. You laughed. So far you have only bit Daddy and I--hard enough to leave little tooth marks.

You love songs. I get song books out of the library and I have to sing them over and over to you. You can listen to big kid picture books if they are in song. I sing to you while I sit you on your potty. So now, sometimes, you will insist on sitting on your potty fully clothed and you will go "Spider. Spider. Spider" for Itsy Bitsy Spider or "Qwack Qwack Qwack" for Five Little Ducks or my favorite "Bwak Bwak Bwak" for Old McDonald. You call The Big Rock Candy Mountain "Mountain" and Yankee Doodle, "Doodle".

You are still my little clean freak. When River forgot to put away his shoes, you did it for him. When something falls, you put it back. I just wish you would stop reaching your arm in the garbage pail. You finally managed to climb into your father's computer chair. You did this then announced, "Weeeeeee" and "Yeah!" until he spun you around. You love to be spun and tossed. Anything with lots of movement and a bit of daredevil. Even your nursing is acorbatic. I know all toddlers are wiggly nursers, but River usually relaxed and cuddled in my arms for "nursie". You try to flip entirely around for "Mem Mem". You are single handly destroying my breasts. Take a gander at a mother dog who is nursing pups. Her nipples dangle like strings. I'm afraid that's how I will end up if you keep using my nipples like a bungee cord.

You are our little piggy always demanding "nacks" and "more" and "milk" and "mem mem". You are watchful and serious in new situations. When we had professional photos taken, I told the photographer not to bother trying to make you smile. You are a go getter who wants to try new things. You like to be in the thick of things. You like meeting new people. You love water and will play in it, even if it is freezing cold. Your eyes are the richest, darkest brown (close to black) and your skin is a beautiful light brown almost the same shade as your fathers. I love you just as you are and each and every milestone is like a little gift you give to us.

Love,

Mommy

Eighteen Months

By Autumn on February 28, 2012 7:28 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

All of a sudden you've grow a bit, just a bit. Finally you've gotten too big for most of your twelve month clothing and suddenly pants that you couldn't wear are wearable. Most of the length seems to be in your scrawny little legs. Like River, you are thin--very. I expect the doctor to question if I feed you at all when you have your next appointment. You have a great appetite most of the time and eat a wide variety of foods. I think part of this is that I am not afraid to let you eat solid, chunky items even if you don't have all your teeth. Though, you are making good work catching up in the tooth growing department. Only all your missing teeth (minus those canines) are coming in all at one time on only the right side. Even your teeth are particular.

As in all things, you are far more subtle than River. I'm always shocked. O, you understood that? O, you know that word too? O, are you speaking often--I didn't really notice. It's partly you being the second born and partly your no-nonsense attitude. Of course, you can do that. It's easy, isn't it? I watch you work to try to get on pants, skirts and shoes. Your desire to be independent is so strange to me. Here is my daughter who flushes the toilet, you knows how to wash her hands, that leans forward to have her nose wiped. All these small things that River didn't care about until he was much older. There you are demanding I must make your bed after nap before we can leave the room. There you are putting everything back when prompted. My neurotic baby. My watchful, intense little girl. Often overlooked because your are independent and quite but so bright. The neighbor was watching you and said you could identify, you friend, River's friend, and their Daddy in a family photo. It really surprised her and it surprises me too. You run about outside hardly needing me and so confident in yourself and your world. Fierce child. Silent but watchful.

When it took us too long to get you undressed for a bath, you just slid in head first while fully clothed. You are constantly demanding things, "Shoes. Outside. Walk. Bike. Bath. Toothbrush. Milk. Wawer. Chair! Chair!" You are a huge fan of the song "Baby Baluga" and sing it to yourself while rocking back and forth--your legs stiff and splayed. When I was reading a Diego book to River that featured a Beluga whale you almost lost your mind. You carried that book around singing the song to yourself and demanding I read the part about the whale. And when you aren't singing that song, you are chant/singing gibberish words to yourself.

Today I watched you chase your brother and his friend around holding a stick--because they were. I watch your pleasure when you get into a small chair at the library and flip through a book--just like your brother. Cuddled in your bed together, you laughed and laughed as he bounced you both up and down. Though you are quick to yell and cry. Getting angry that he is in your space or that the game has changed and you don't like the peek-a-boo bit. You liked the bouncing. Go back to the bouncing now! Yes, the tantrums have begun. The angry, limp body crying when things don't go your way. How you hate the word no. You won't be soothed so I leave you there to vent your rage. Eventually you stagger to your feet looking for me, needing the comfort you at first refused. How could I let you cry like that? How could I leave you on the floor when you were upset? Your face shows your betrayal. Your confusion. I can see the world opening for you like a flower. What do you do with this anger? This feeling that you can't express in any way but tears and your entire body folding over? Do I care? Yes, I care. I get angry too. I wish I could throw myself on the floor sometimes. I've even been known to yell just to get my frustrations out. A long, insane yell that makes you laugh. You laughing makes me laugh. It all passes. You learn to speak, to express. Then you whine. Then you turn four and argue and argue and argue. It's nice that River went before you. I learned so much from him that now I am more confident for you. While you are very different, you too will learn that all that crying and body flailing won't get you a thing. But yes, I will always be there with kisses afterwards.

You were sick this month. Some sinus virus with a fever and then a twenty-four hour bug of some-sort that involved an evening of vomit. (I caught the last one myself). I had you sitting on my lap when you started to puke. I thought it was caused by coughing so I caught your vomit in my hand. But then you continued. While Daddy rushed for a towel, you continued to puke all over me. Better me than the floor and furniture, I thought. Afterwards, we took a bath together. You nursed in the tub--naked body against mine, content and smooth in my arms. Nursing is such a strange thing. I never imagined it beyond that first year. How you'd want it for comfort. How even the site of my breasts makes you smile, point and say "Mem! Mem!". That you'd tug open my shirt and try to just help yourself when the mood took you. But nursing a toddler seems just as natural as nursing a newborn to me. It provides a source of constant comfort. You nurse when you teethe. You nursed when you had your virus and wouldn't eat anything else. You nurse when you are hurt or upset. It's like an instant relaxer. It brings you comfort faster than anything else. Yes, it is annoying to have a wiggly toddler in my lap--playing with my earrings, shoving fingers in my mouth, twisting this way and that with restless energy, but is it worth it? Yes. Oh, yes. As with all things, this time is fleeting.

How can you be one and a half? Only six months away from two-years-old! Wasn't I just pregnant with you? We're you just a chubby-faced little baby? You were, but here you are--vibrant, learning each day, curious, changing. I jokingly told River that maybe we should find a new home for you. "No!" he yelled. "She belongs here. I don't want to get rid of her!" You do belong here. You and River make me look forward to each day.

Happy half birthday, little girl.

Love,

Mommy

Seventeen months

By Autumn on January 30, 2012 1:30 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

You have been changing quickly over the past month. There are so many things to write about and I know I've forgotten most of them. Little things--as your world and understanding expands. As you communicate and try new things. Today as were getting ready to leave you went up and laid your pointer finger on the door and said, "Dar". "Yes," I told you. "Door!" There is so much you say, but I forget to write it down. I don't have the time to push your vocabulary as I did with your brother--still out of the blue new words will pop from your mouth. Even without language, you understand so much. "Put that back." I tell you and you listen. "Go get some socks." and you come back in the room with socks. "Are you ready to get your teeth brushed?" and you take off for the bathroom.

Your independence is so strong--as it has always been since day one. Actually, even in my belly you were curled into your own little ball--quite and mostly still. Just a few little stretches here and there mostly with your feet. Feet you still love to press into things as you fall asleep--be it my arm or the arm of a chair we sit in. River was an acrobat in my belly--already demanding attention. At birth, you hardly cried. River wailed for the better part on an hour. You slept contently by yourself. River had to be curled against me. River didn't care to learn to dress himself until he was 3 1/2. You have begun dressing yourself. You drag out a skirt and try to pull it on over your feet. You try to put on pants over your pants. You try to put on my shirts, your brother's socks, my shoes, his shoes, Daddy's socks. You drag out clothes all day and try to put them on. Your clothing is scattered about the house. Your brother didn't even open his dresser drawers until he was three! And that isn't all, you brush your own teeth (after I brush them) and you brush your own hair. You try to wipe poop off yourself with a wipe you took out of the wipe container while I was wiping you. You carefully watch River and then try to do exactly as he does. This is down to details. You grab a book, because he has one. You sit down and align yourself directly beside him. You look at him with the book and then open the book. I call you "My Monkey see and Monkey Do".

You pretend to talk. I will ask you something and you will jibber jabber quite seriously with head nods and hand movement. I can respond back and you continue. You can't stand when I spend solo time with River. First you stole the second book we were going to read and came back with one of your favorite books. Then you tried to give it to me. When that didn't work you yelled angrily. Not one for many long drawn out tantrums, you then looked surely and threw the book over the book we were reading. I gave it back to you and said, "Mommy read River book." You yelled again, looked determined and then tried to take the book we were reading. I repeated myself. You pointed to my chest and told me you needed to nurse. "No, nurse." (You had just nursed so I knew that was a lie). You stomped off yelling and crying angrily. A few minutes passed and you climbed your way onto the couch and flung yourself across River, who tried to shove you off him, but I grabbed you and you pressed yourself into my chest. I could feel your stubborn triumph. I call you my Tiger. It is your Chinese zodiac. In a house of a dog (myself), a pig (your brother) and a sheep (daddy) you are fierce. A tenacious, plotting, determined, independent and sudden rage of temper. If River dares to ignore you, you will sit on him, lay on him, fly planes near his face or slide your entire body across the table to eat out of his plate or steal him food. And since you have a darling, gentle older brother--he usually either lets you or yells for me to stop you from "dancing on the table" or "drinking my milk!" or "trying to take my book!".

He does love you though, even if you are a force of annoyance and interruption in his life. He and you play a kissing game where you go to kiss and one of you runs from it. In the bath, you laugh and laugh as he squirts or splashes you. Sometimes you both twirl like mini tornadoes until you fall down. You fearlessly barrel into the midst of him and his friends wanting to be as close to River as possible. "Rivah! Rivah! Rivah!" you yelled today--when he was not in the room.

You call me "Ma-Mom" and nurse is "Mem mem". Daddy is a clear "Daddy!" and you say his name more than any other. "Wa-wer" is the most adorable. You have a crazed love for water. You try to climb into fountains and swim with the Koi. You laugh if you stand on a stool and stick your hand into the sink where water is flowing.

Each morning you climb onto the toilet to get your teeth brushed. You watch what I do carefully and reach for anything close. You grab River's toothbrush and call "Rivah!". You grab my invisalign and mimic putting it in your mouth and then hand it to me. You sometimes clean up automatically. You won't let us leave the house if a shoe falls off the shoe shelf behind us. It must be replaced. When I say I have to go potty, you open the toilet, wait till I am done, shut the toilet and try to flush it. Your smile is adorable each time I help you turn on or off the light switch. Such joy in something so mudane. To you, it is great fun.

You have been going to sleep in your own bed in the room you share with River. You often sleep till 2:00am there before I take you in our room. You've gone as long as 5:00am. I say, "Sagey sleep in Sagey's bed" and you climb under the blankets and lay down. Anywhere you see a picture of a cat, you say "Kitty cat!" You love our neighbor, Juliana (who watches you when I teach) and will grab your shoes and demand I put them on so you can go to her house. You call her "na na" and once she dropped you off and went to leave and you tried to get her to take you with her again! If we go over her house, you plop on her lap. If you see her outside, you ask her to pick you up. Basically, if Juliana is around---you don't need your mother!

You used to wait for me on the top of the stairs and/or hold River's hand and wait. I usually say "River, grab sissy's hand!" and often I have him help you from the car to the front door or hold you near the car while I get things out. But once I was talking to Daddy and not paying attention while standing in the doorway and you fell down a few stairs. Your head was pointing down and your feet up. I grabbed you up quick and you were just fine. Since then, you always wait with me at the door and you hold my fingers tight as you slowly make your way down the stairs. You are a great finger holder. River never, ever was. I love your tight grip as we walk slowly side by side and your brother ranges ahead.

You grew inside me during such a hard time in my life. I was afraid my tears would effect you. That my sadness would seep into my womb and change you. I couldn't celebrate my pregnancy with you in the same way I did your brother's because part of my heart was broken from Bryan's passing. All my joys had an echo of empty grief. Slowly, I have healed as you have grown. When you were in the emergency room, finally, it all clicked in my body. I saw how your name has come to suit you and how it is entirely possible to love both children equally though they are such different little people.

You are my Sage, a wise person. Nirvana, peace. You have made me wise. You have given me peace, balance, and contentment that I didn't have before you. You brought me full circle back to my own mother and the mother love she gave me. I am a woman raising a woman and that is a gift of balance.You also let me see my brother again through the dynamic of a brother and sister. I better understand all the ways we loved each other as children and the base of the bond that even death can't ripe from my being. You are like a tiny redemption. One with a fighter's spirit. I know you'll do what you want to do. So, I'll just be hear cheering you on and giving you "Mem mem" when you demand it with one, poking imperious finger.

Love,

Ma-mom

Sixteen months

By Autumn on December 29, 2011 7:07 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

We have reached the second chapter of toddler hood. It is titled "Pain in the Ass" with a subtitle of "unstoppable". You are into everything. All your brother's toys--broken apart and scattered. You want something--it must be had or you will enter baby rage. Nap time--only if forced. Food--optional. Can't ice cream be every meal? I know it will get worse before it gets better. That you will soon start running away in public and acting insane if we dare go out to eat. I know the tantrums (minor for the time being) will probably reach new highs. I've seen the other end of the tunnel though. Like your reasonable, communicative four year old brother. We'll get there. For now I'm going to enjoy the fact that you are still a baby. Still nursing and small, still in diapers and speaking nonsense. Especially since, if things go Daddy's way, you will be my last baby.

You are so much fun. Just being around you, seeing your joy and easy pleasure, your old little quirks and explorations--bring all of us smiles. I smile now just thinking about your bobbing up and down and trying so very hard to jump like River. Or the way you plopped up beside him on the couch to watch cartoons like he was. He leaned over, happy to have you pressed so close, and kissed your cheek. You are the little darling of the household. Even though we all get exasperated with your destructive tendencies, you bring far more pleasure than angst to each person around you. Yes, even when you bite which you will do, laughing wickedly, if anyone lets you pop a finger in your mouth.

You love to get pushed over on the bed. You will silently laugh with just hint of breath and four teeth showing. It is the oddest laugh ever. Your nose wrinkles when you do it. You look like such a brat.

You love dancing, just like River did. And if we sing to you, you will sing nonsense along with us in the correct tune. You have a great ear for music. You know the tunes to all River's favorite Christmas songs that we sang so much before the holidays. I can sing, "la la la" and you will sing it back to me with correct pitch and tone.

If you really want my attention you hardly ever bother with saying "Mama" instead you simply yell and waggle a finger. You're such a princess. One thing you flip out over is River's old tricycle. You love to ride that thing. I have pushed you on it for walks. If I have to remove you to carry it up and down stairs, you scream with hurt and rage. How-could-I-remove-you-from-the-tricycle?!

Earlier this month you had chair rage. I was not allowed to sit in my computer chair since you claimed it as your own. You would scream, claw at my legs and/or climb up behind me and try to push me off. Since then, you have learned to climb up all the other chairs. They must be pushed in at all times or you will be up on the table, knocking River's water over and playing in the puddle.

The poor xmas tree was destroyed by you this past month. Every single ornament within grab distance was removed. And you would do it, throw the ball at me and then run away laughing. You said "Hi" to every person we passed in Target and kiss Daddy goodnight every night with a "mwah!" noise before shoving him away, waving impatiently, and saying "Bye Bye". I told you "no" one day and you said "Yes" and nodded slowly and seriously. You put up a bare foot and say, "Stinky! Stinky!" in your small little elf voice. It is adorable. You aren't much of a talker but you understand a lot.

The monkey see, monkey do of a second child never ceases to amuse me. You know when you are missing out and will forcefully barge your way into people or climb into my lap to be a part of the action. This causes conflict when I am trying to put together a new toy for River or read him a book. You have no concept of waiting your turn. You are watchful and copy flushing the toilet, putting on costumes River just took off, and playing with toys he just finished playing with. River will often say, "She wants to do everything I do!"

"Sagey" you say, pointing to yourself in the mirror. Yes, sweet Sagey, my quite but forceful little spit fire. You love to wear headbands, purses, other's people's shoes, bracelets and necklaces. Or anything you think could be a bracelet or necklace. You thrive--grow, change, and learn. It is such a blessing to be with you each and every day.

Love,

Mommy

Fifteen months

By Autumn on November 29, 2011 7:07 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

I know I often compare you to your brother. His feet were two sizes larger than yours at this age and he said many more words. But I say things like this without judgement. I love how different you are. I love each of your individual quirks. It's your differences that make you both so interesting. Since 'tis the season, let me compare it to Christmas. You children are like opening presents I never thought of asking for, but were just right for me.

You are so rich in personality. How did I ever say I thought one year olds were hell? You are so not. You are such a quite, but tenacious little spirit. Watchful and sweet, stubborn and clever. When I think of you as a woman grown, I feel an excited flutter in my chest. A sense of pride that I will have a part in you, both physically and through my time with you, but also the thrill of the unknown. Because who you are, is already so firmly rooted in your being. You grow and I sit back and marvel at this gift the universe deemed me worthy to keep so close.

You love dogs. This goes to support my belief that you are either born a cat or dog person. While you also love our cats and they like you ever so much more than River, there is something special about the way your Nana's skittish dog wasn't afraid of you. The way he would let you grip his head in both his hands and sit in his crate with him even though he would run laps to get away from your brother and wouldn't enter the house if he could see Daddy anywhere around. You still approach random strange dogs or try to follow them. You seem to have this innate love of animals and a respect for their bodies. They seem to know it too. Except the squirrels who run in a deranged and panicky manner whenever you shriek with joy and point one out.

Some new words are "light" and "diaper". You know where to go to get a clean diaper and you will pick one out and repeat "diaper, diaper" while I change you. I tried to feed you some yogurt and you said "Bye bye" to it. When I offered you something else you shook your head. If you really want something you gesture with a hard jerk of your arm and your pointer finger out. Your eyes give most of the message. Intense looks and patient waiting. You expect me to understand and often I do. You haven't begun many tantrums or frustrated screaming like River did when he wasn't understood. Though there have been a few tantrums when I took something from you--like the lotion bottle you were trying to eat from. Your crying is loud and persistent and confused. As if you are thinking, "Why am I so angry and what do I do about it?!" You lay on the floor and won't move as if your legs are broken. Sometimes you look at me as if to say, "Now what?" or "Are you going to pick me up now?"

You have a love of music. You sing when I sing. Not words but "la la las" and sometimes it actually sounds as if you are getting the melody--just a bit. You have begun humming when you nurse or suck on your paci as you fall asleep at night. We went out for dinner and you stood up in your seat, typical Sage, and were shaking your butt to the music--much the the amusement of a couple at the bar.

I'm bemused by the girly things you do like making everything a bracelet or carrying around a purse. You also picked out the pinkest more sparkly girl shoes at Payless and demanded I put them on you. Then again, River would have done the same thing at that age. Unlike River, you climb everything. You climb up onto the table from your booster seat all the time. We can not keep you contained. You love to run away and be tickled on your tummy. You give kisses that are often drooly. But the quirk that gets the cutest prize this past month is how you clean up. I say, "Put it back." and you do. But yesterday, you found a pair of your pants on the edge of the bed. You plucked them up, opened the correct drawer of your dresser (which I didn't even know you could open) and put them inside. You then shut the door and walked over to me.

O, my little clean freak.

There is a bit of me in you after all.

Love,

Mommy

Fourteen months

By Autumn on November 1, 2011 3:05 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

I'm late with this. That is our lives lately: late, rushed, full, hectic. I can think of a lot of adjectives. Luckily, you don't seem to mind. This past month has seen you blossom. You now have a real sense of humor. A mischievousness that makes you spy me and grin when you are being naughty or take off running down the hall clutching something you shouldn't have. You love when I spin with you or dangle you upside down. You love being chased, grabbed and tickled under your chin. You give open mouth kisses and point out our noses, eyes, and mouth. You are so silly all of a sudden. Adorably so.

You love farm animals, especially cows. I have no idea why, but you will open a book up to farm animals and want me to name and make a sound for each one you point to. You still adore dogs and try to get to one while yelling, "Dah!" every time you see one no matter how ferocious it looks. You say, "Do!" for Do Baby and "Cat!" when you see a picture of a cat. You have no hesitation when petting cats and even the least friendly feline (Babette) will often allow you to pet her.

You are a loving child. You go with my neighbor each time I teach. You wait for her at the entry to the hall and never mind leaving me. If you see her while we are out walking, you want her to hold you. She says you call her "Na Na" and the other day you asked her to nurse you! This asking involves you open mouth kissing below the neck and tapping my chest and saying, "That! That!" You also love your Grandma and Kevin. You couldn't get enough of them, especially Grandma. You followed her around the house when she was here. Going to far as to lay outside the closed bathroom door and stick things under the crack until she came out.

You now enjoy passing toys to people. You say, "Thank you." You understand much more than you can say. This, of course, doesn't mean you listen. You love not to. You get a huge grin on your face every time I say, "No!". This happened a lot in the high chair when you stand up and try to climb on the table or when you climb onto the train table. You just love to climb. Grandma said you tried to get on the toilet. You do love to hold hands. When I say, 'Hold River's hand!", you walk towards him with your hand held out. One of the sweetest moments this month was watching him lead you into the library by the hand.

You love to try to sing and imitate our most frequent songs. You spin as you dance and stomp your feet when you are excited. And while all this is cute, you now have thrush again for the third time. It's been two entire months of dealing with thrush and we're both tired of it. Luckily, you are very good about taking medication. The thrush doesn't seem to bother you as much as the teething. Like dominoes falling over you went from no teeth to almost four this past month.

Since you had croup, you've been a snuggler. Somehow that hell we went through feels like it increased our bond. I never really felt like you needed me as much as River did, until after that. Now we have a special connection like the one I had with River when he was a baby. Naturally, as you age, you are better able to show your love and need of us. You clearly say, "Mama" when you want me and hold your arms up to be lifted. It's nice to give so much and its balance is what you are learning to give me. Kisses, hugs, cuddles, and your new words.

I love how different you are from River. It's exciting to watch you grow and learn, to be surprised by the way you do things. By your watchful nature, your hesitations, your quiet needs and enjoyments. I love how it is monkey see and monkey do with you. Anything River does you want to try even if you can't possibly do it yet. I love how it is my voice that calms you most and not my touch. I love how much you like being dressed, trying on shoes, and your insistence that you must wear socks all the time. If a sock falls off, you begin yelling for me and hold it up for me so I can put it back on you.

This was my sweater when I was little. Grandma says I hated to wear it. You hate when I take it off you!

This time with you is so much fun. Each day is exiting for you and each experience new. I'm glad I get to be here to watch you live your life and see your careful expression as you take it all in. It's hard to believe a year ago you were so very tiny. You've grown so much. Your legs are strong and confident now. Your cheeks mounding up in frequent smiles. Your little finger pointing at this and that.

We didn't expect you but you filled a need in our family unit. You are a little blessing.

Thank you, baby girl. Thank you.

Love,

Mama

Thirteen months

By Autumn on September 29, 2011 7:06 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

September has not been a kind month for you. You received six vaccinations, had thrush, went to the doctor three Fridays in a row, and came down with the virus from the layer of hell that has all things to do with feces. It was two days of fever followed by days upon days of poop. At one point the poop was so frequent you would wake from sleep whining, demand a spot on my chest, fill your diaper and cry...again and again and again. I have only just been able to start to heal your frightening diaper rash through my determined efforts to keep you dry. This included sleeping naked on towels and waterproof pads and getting up to change your diaper over and over again when I would much rather be sleeping. This morning (around 4:00am, ugh) I changed you five times in a row over an hour and a half. Every time we would start to fall asleep, I'd hear your watery farts or feel your tummy muscles clench under my palm. Admits all this butt drama, I had thrush myself and a gaping hole on my nipple that caused me excruciating pain. I spent a lot of time trying not to cry. Yes, the pain was bad but what was worse was the way it made something beautiful a burden.

I love nursing my babies. Often, with you, I don't have the time to enjoy it. It's most often pulling out my breast while I check my email or read to your brother. But thrush made me see how much we need each other still. Nursing is precious. There is little else so enjoyable as being able to provide you with the nutrition and protection of my milk and to hold you in my arms and see you look up at me, play with my face, try to stick your fingers in my mouth or smile around my nipple at some silly thing I do. My milk is comfort to you and holding you so close causes me to appreciate the gift that is motherhood within the whirlwind of childcare. I realize it is often considered taboo to nurse a toddler. Many toddler nursing moms do so "in the closest". But from here in my own shoes, I can't understand how something as arbitrary as a birthday can mean a door slammed on a perfectly natural act that happens between a mother and her young. We're just not ready yet. Even if your father said he'd let me have another baby if I got pregnant today, I couldn't do it. You are still my baby and you need my milk. I wouldn't take that from you. I couldn't even when I was in agony feeding you last week.

After days of you being clingy, you are back to your mischievous one year old ways. Running away from me in stores and tearing into the potting soil of my houseplants despite my many scoldings. (River, just so you know, only ever did that twice and then never did it again because I told him not to.) You eat the dirt, you throw the dirt, you carry it over and show me chunks and then you smile when I start loudly telling you "no". You actually argued with me. I said, "no" and you said "yes". This happened for quite a length of time. I was left remembering how long it even took for River to say "yes" and that we didn't start doing the back and forth until this year. You also hit. Evidence being that you know the word "gentle" and will sway your hand back and forth in the air when you chant it after you smack me in the face. You believe you are the center of the world. You climb into a chair and then scream because you don't know how to get down and expect me to jump to help you. You try to climb onto the table at restaurants to get the ice from my cup and thrust you body back in baby rage when I stop you. Ah, one, you just can't intimidate me. It's hard to believe River was ever such an arrogant little monster, but he was. And you, dear Sage, you make him look as sweet as pie. Like three, almost four, is a jolly skip through the park on a perfect summer day.

You've begun signing for nurse but you still will simply tug my shirt or put your mouth to any exposed mommy skin you can find. You've tried to nurse on Daddy several times. I know your cry that means you want nurse and you know I know, so why should you have to sign or say it?

You often insist of using a spoon solo which is such a mess. You take forever to eat and can't sit still very long. I've taken to doing what I once did for River and letting you wander about while I sit with your food. You come to me now and then for a scoop and then go on with your merry explorations. Often you butt heads with River. You are pushy and rude. If you see him sit on my lap you give a cry of anger and try to shove him out or worm your way behind him. You swat at him, even when he is being nice and trying to play with you. It doesn't really phase him. You have no idea how glad I am that I had a boy first. Men seem to be built to let the mood swings of women roll off their backs. Two girls might have done me in.

You can already remove your shirt once we help you get one arm out. A feat it took River years to master. You love putting on clothes, River's goggles, masks, hats, socks and shoes. You know that when I say, "Get on your shoes" that we are going out. You will grab your shoes and sit on my lap. You also throw very well and will sometimes throw your shoes at me. Speaking of throwing, you throw your food on the floor to signal you are done. I remember River doing the same thing. I feel a warm glow in my chest whenever you make me remember River things I've forgotten. It's like coming full circle.

Today you kept shutting a book I was reading to River and I swear you kept saying, "Shut it". When the cats rub on you, you bend over and rub your head on them. You are also the master of the plop. You plop here and there and chatter to yourself on the floor while swinging your legs in the air.

It's been a hard month, but we're getting over it. Moving on to bigger and brighter things. Oooo, like tantrums and full out running into traffic. I expect to be underweight and halfway to full on grey by the end of next summer.

Love,

Mama

or as you say....

Mam'mam

One year old!

By Autumn on September 1, 2011 6:15 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

Happy first birthday, baby girl! We had a huge party at Grandma's house planned. I sent out fancy invitations, I picked a color theme of deep purple and lime green and grandma picked butterflies, together we bought a birthday outfit, and grandma ordered balloons, food and the cake. Then Hurricane Irene happened. The night before your party the power went out. I didn't even know the fans had stopped running at first because of the gales of wind blasting nonstop outside the open window. There was no way anyone was getting to our party. Heather managed to make it because Daddy and Kevin went to get her in the truck. The cake was picked up, the balloons were from the grocery store (and not the fancy colors we planned) the catered food wasn't going to be made. Grandma got us pizza while the electricity was (briefly) on in town. We dressed you up and did the whole birthday thing without any power and that night everyone (minus River and myself) toasted you with tequila shots by the glow of a table-ful of candles. I managed to photograph it all before my camera died. It wasn't as we planned but was likely far more memorable because of it! The next day, your actual birthday, we stepped out into the sun, a lawn littered with leaves and debris and you--an entire year old.

Besides simply loving you for you, I have particular favorites. I love the way you smile and lift your eyebrows. It's a bit mischievous and a bit just blissfully easy to please baby. You aren't fearful about exploring new places or saying hello to new people. You are growing a little temper and will fuss and stomp your little feet when things don't go your way. You point to things and wait for me to tell you what they are called. I can almost hear you listening to language--taking it all in. You try so hard to do everything River does (get on the bed, climb up slides, run). When you walk around you always want something in both hands--be it twigs or rocks or random trash you found on the ground outside. "Yuck!" I say. Or "No. No. No." and you always smile, a great big one, and either do or don't listen to me. It's 50/50 at this point.

A cuddly black cat lay with you outside in a spot of sun at a friend's house. You were good about being gentle. You love to touch cats and dogs, as River never really did. When the cat wove against you and butted you with his head, you leaned right into him and did the same. This was endearing. Not so endearing was when you bent over and licked a puddle on the deck because you saw the dog do it.

This past month the way you look at me has changed. You look at me and see me more. I'm not sure how to explain it. You look at me and the look is, "I want to play with you because I love you." I don't have the same amount of time with you as I did with River so I really treasure the rare moment we have for just the two of us.Sometimes when I sit you on my lap, you make a happy sound and press your face to mine then wait, almost laughing, for me to do something to you. Be it tip you back, nuzzle you under your chin or chew on your belly. If I lay in the grass you lay with me. You show me the things you find. You look to make sure I am watching and sharing our moments. Your look says, "I am glad you are with me." I feel my heart melt into a puddle of love goop in my chest.

If a pillow is on the floor you have a compulsion to lay on it. When you are very happy you try to run in circles. You do drunken, reeling laps around the room. You know where your eyes, nose and mouth are. You point and try to say them. Though sometimes for nose, you stick your finger up your nostril. You wave bye bye and clap, you try to dance, and you attempt to climb off things head first like a cat or dog. You've recently begun insisting on only feeding yourself. You will not stop going through cabinets. It's sorta making me insane.

But the true marvel is that a year ago, you were so small I can't recall how that really was. I held a newborn this weekend who was over a pound heavier than you were at birth. How could that be? How were you that small--a head that fit neatly in my palm, stick legs, jerky waving arms, sleepy newborn eyes. How? And yet, how has it already been a year? Where will the years take us? How will we change? What many memories will we share? I have dresses that will fit you at two, three and four. Shoes that will be worn in coming winters and summers. I can see the hint of the future you in your changing face, your lengthening limbs, your more confident movements and changing expressions.

Some parents are bitter of their stolen time, but 98% of the time I am not. I am only thankful, amazed, and infatuated with my children. These years are brief and shit, Sage, life itself is fragile. We never know how long we have--how long we have together--. I want so many years, years upon years with you. I want to be an old, feeble, (likely deaf as hell) old woman sitting at a table with you and River and your assorted children. A noisy, insane affair of family--of mine. Of my blood and my nuturing. I want a tree that stems from me and all the love I have for you and River.

This has been the happiest year of my life.

My joy lives in you.

Love,

Mama

Eleven Months

By Autumn on July 28, 2011 1:14 PM | Talk to me | No TrackBacks

Dear Sage,

I really can't wrap my mind around the fact that you are eleven months old and how very close that is to your first birthday. This year has flown and yet, I find it hard to remember how small you were as newborn or what you were like at three months or five months. Life keeps me so busy now. Though most of our days are simple, they still are always in a rush. This last month was no exception. You have changed so much so quickly. Your developing personality falling into place like pieces to a puzzle.

You walk all the time now--everywhere. People always stop to ask how old you are since you are so tiny and moving about confidently with your elbows tucked in to your sides and your arms raised for balance. Your little legs are taking on a muscular shape instead of being just blob. Your body becoming leaner and better proportioned. I can close my eyes and imagine you River's age. I want to preserve your babyhood. Why does it have to go by so fast?

You are not as loud and dramatic as River. I am learning that you show your joy more subtly, but it doesn't mean you feel less. I had you in a swing the other day which I never really thought you liked since I would only occasionally get a tiny smile. River would laugh loudly, shriek, and kick his legs in the swing. So after a few pushes and a few fleeting smiles, I tried to take you out and you fussed a bit and began the leg kicking you do (strong, steady pumps) when you are displeased. I put you back in and there was that small smile again. When you are very happy you babble more and your eyes are bright with curiosity. This is another part of you growing up--communicating. You know how to let me know what you want without words. You begin to understand cause and effect. I learn that your persistent "Ma Ma Ma Ma" often means you are hungry.

Words there are albeit done with horrible-mush-mouth pronunciation. Looking back at some videos of River, I see that he was actually saying a lot more than I thought he was. I didn't really consider him talking until his words were clearer, but indeed (as suspected) it happens much earlier. When River plays with you, you say "Ri-wah. Ri-wah" to call to him. You say, Daddy, Mama, Hi, That and Bye Bye. I even thought I heard you say, "Bye Bye, Daddy" once. Your receptive language is much better, of course. You understand "No", "Hungry?", "Water?", "Drink?" and "Nurse?". (and obvious ones, like names) And the way I can tell? You'll be fussing and I question you. You then stop fussing because I know what you want and you know it's forthcoming. With nursing, you will often grab for my breasts or reach down my shirt as confirmation that yes, you really do want to nurse thanks.

You also initiate games. For Peek-A-Boo you will hide under the blanket danging at the end of my bed and then pull it off and smile. You started saying "Bye Bye" and waving to me while I was in the kitchen and you were eating dinner last night. You are always ecstatically happy when you are understood and communication is working. This means you give a big toothless grin and maybe a happy noise. You also love to be tickled in your armpits or under your chin. You have giggly moods when you tumble onto me and want to play. Each evening you and River are bound to be playing your slow version of chase. You don't know what to do when you are being chased. You laugh and try to run and then tumble down shrieking.

You are such a copy cat. You clap when we clap and plop a little hand over your mouth when I do it. You are watchful and a quick learner. This is why you go through the cat door in the baby gate even though River NEVER DID THIS ONCE as a baby. It's all because he said, "Sage! Look, you can go through here." and put his arm in. In this same way you try to dress yourself. You will snatch River's shirt while he is pulling on his pants in the morning and try to put it over your head. This impresses me. You know, since River didn't start to dress himself till this very summer.

You're a sweet little girl and an easy baby. You're outgoing enough that you never mind strangers picking you up (even reaching for them to take you randomly in the grocery store) but you clearly make your wants known without flipping out. You're adventurous and enjoy going to new places and doing new things. I'm very much looking forward to your first birthday even while being a bit sad that this first year is almost over. Especially because age one was the most challenging year so far with River, but right after it is two. Two is so so much fun. But who can tell what you'll be like--so different from your brother. It's so fun getting to watch you grow and explore. There is so much coming--more words, jumping, climbing, running away, tantrums, and birthday cake.

You ate an entire sliver of roasted yellow pepper today (with no teeth). So the cake should be something.

Thank you, baby girl, for being you. (Just please stop pinching me when you are nursing. It really hurts!)

Love,

Mama

« Dear River | Main Index | Archives | decorating »

Recently in Dear Sage Category

Twenty months

Nineteen months

Eighteen Months

Seventeen months

Sixteen months

Fifteen months

Fourteen months

Thirteen months

One year old!

Eleven Months

Categories

Search

Pages

Recent Entries

Recent Assets

About this Archive