Well this is becoming a bad habit

Me not writing for long periods and then feeling like I need to catch up. Acch! Okay, so Scott has now been unemployed for over two months…I don't think I've mentioned that here before, but most of you know he was let go from Oracle in the last round of layoffs in February -- him and about a thousand others. He wasn't terribly upset about it. After working at the same company (well PeopleSoft/Oracle) for the last ten years he was ready for a break so he's been enjoying some time off.

And I've been slowly going insane.

Because though I love my husband dearly, I am someone who Needs My Space. So having him here 24-7 for the last two and half months has been a major adjustment for me. And of course the last couple of months have been filled with an endless amount of rain, meaning we've spent much of that time trapped in the house.

Mommy needs some quiet time is becoming a very familiar phrase around here. And my family doesn't do quiet very well. Alyssa obviously can't be counted on to be quiet on demand, Scott requires that the TV be on every second, and the last time I asked Amanda for some quiet time she agreed wholeheartedly and then proceeded to have a long discussion with me about the best possible way for her to be quiet. Seriously, picture this:

"I know! I can make only quiet noises, like THIS," (as she proceeds to blow into her plastic teapot like it's an instrument that makes no noise) "OR I can dance!!! Because dancing doesn't make any noise. Or, or... I know! I can color. Coloring is REALLY quiet! Would that be a good idea? Or... no, I think I changed my mind. I want to watch my show. It's easy to be quiet when I'm watching my show. Mommy, can you turn on my show? Mommy? Can I sit in your lap while I'm being quiet. Brrr...I'm cold behind my toes. Can we have a blanket, Mommy? Mommy, will you read me a book? Mommy, remember how we went to that hotel in Monna...Monnaway? I liked that hotel. I liked that hotel and I liked our vacation. Can we go there again and get cotton candy and ice cream? Mommy, I'm whispering because I'm being quiet. Oh, Mommy? Just one more thing before I'm quiet. Can you make me something to eat? Mommy, I'm pretending it's opposites day so if you want me to be quiet you have to ask me to be loud."

And then, just because she's evil, she adds, "Mommy, you make me cozy and sooooooooo happy."

So I've been going a little crazy, but there's a pretty good chance that Scott will go back to work at Oracle as a contractor soon. Keeping my fingers crossed that actually works out. Things are getting easier anyway now that the weather is clearing up. Scott is playing golf more often and last week we went to Monterey for a couple of days. That was fun and relaxing… The aquarium, fisherman's wharf, the beach, Alyssa's first time putting her toes in the sand…

Before that, the girls and I spent a week at my mom's house, which was a nice break even if it did rain the whole time. I got to do some scrapbooking while my mom and Bob played with the girls. I should say it was a nice break for me. My mom and Bob are still probably recovering!

For Easter we went to Rick & Cara's for brunch and an egg hunt. Fun, fun… Then we swung by Harvey & Ila's since we were in the neighborhood. The girls had a blast.

In other news, I finally got a haircut and my hairdresser informed me that wave is coming back. That came as a relief because I was just thinking the other day as I was torturing my hair into straightness how annoying it is that when my hair was stick straight I was constantly forcing it into curls and would have killed for some natural wave, but now that I seem to have acquired a bunch of natural wave, I'm forever dragging a flat-iron through it trying to straighten it out. So anyway, she used a diffuser and scrunched my hair and I ended up with this whole new look that I can pull out on occasion.
Scott loved it. I think I like it and this is what Amanda had to say...

Me: Do you like my hair?

Amanda: Well, umm, no. I don't really like it. It's all messed up. And well, wow... What are you gonna do to fix it?

Me: I just went to the hairdresser and she did it this way on purpose. I like it.

Amanda: Really? You went to a hairdresser and she did it on purpose? (said as she was trying to straighten my hair with her hands.) You like it? Well I don't like it. And when I touch it, it feels like bird poop.

Yeah. I don't even want to KNOW why she knows how bird poop feels.

Alyssa's first cereal

Tonight I felt like a terrible mother. I don't have those moments that often. I mean in general, I know I'm not perfect in the mommy department and I make mistakes. A lot of them, I'm sure… but for the most part I figure I'm doing a pretty decent job. I know that at the end of the day, it doesn't matter if the house is perfectly clean or if every meal was completely balanced, it matters that they're healthy and happy and very much loved, which, of course, they both are.

But tonight I gave Alyssa her first "solid" food… her first cereal. And now I'm feeling like a jerk. We started her big sister, Amanda, on cereal a full two months earlier when she was a baby and I recall feeling a touch of guilt over that too. Everything I'd read on the subject suggested we wait until she hit the six-month mark because starting earlier could cause allergies or have other problems associated with it. But her doctor suggested we start at four months because Amanda was so big and waking up so often to nurse and she thought solids would fill up her belly a little better and might keep her sleeping a bit longer.

More sleep? I jumped right on that bandwagon and started feeding Amanda cereal the next day. Risking a lifetime of allergies or who knows what in order to get a few more hours of sleep. Way to go, Mommy. Unfortunately cereal didn't help things at all in the sleep department and Amanda wasn't a particularly enthusiastic eater. She was always wildly enthusiastic about nursing but the other stuff? She could take it or leave it.

So the first cereal milestone was not one I was terribly excited about this time around. Our doctor said we could start Alyssa at four months if we wanted to, but since she was sleeping well, we could wait until six months if we preferred. No reason to mess with a good thing.

So my plan was to start cereal on Alyssa's six-month birthday but we weren't at home that day. We'd made sort of a spur of the moment trip to Monterey, and packing rice cereal had been the last thing on my mind. So I decided we'd wait til we got home and then for various reasons we didn't get around to trying cereal until tonight. I didn't think she'd be that interested anyway. I hadn't noticed her tracking my fork from food to mouth or any of the signs you're supposed to look for. Plus Alyssa is pretty laid back about the whole nursing thing compared to her sister. Don't get me wrong, she's always been a good nurser, I've never had any problems with her, but compared to Amanda she seems to have such self-control and restraint.

I chose to do on-demand feedings with both girls. With Amanda, I felt like a full-service-bar with a flashing neon-sign on my chest glowing "open 24 hours" and Amanda would stumble in at all hours with that frenzied, half starving look and I'd be like the harried waitress, rolling my eyes, but never able to say no to a paying customer, whipping the boob out yet again… and she would eat noisily, making slurpy, happy sounds the whole time...and then if it were nighttime or naptime she'd often fall asleep with that satisfied, half-drunken look about her, my boob still in her mouth and I'd count to 20 or 30 or 60 and then hold my breath and slowly and quietly, so as not to disturb, pry my boob from her mouth. At which point she would usually start searching around, like hey, hey, hey… don't take that away, I was still eating… and so I would wait, again, until she drifted off to sleep and try the routine all over again.

Sometimes this went on endlessly until I thought I might lose my mind. And then when I was finally free, I would breathe a huge sigh of relief, roll over and attempt to get some sleep myself or if it was daytime, attempt to get something done. But then at some point she would stir in her sleep and wake up looking for the boob. I swear it felt like she needed to know where my boobs were at all times. I always imagined she must feel something like a homeless person, sleeping with one eye open in case someone tried to steal her shopping cart.

Though nursing Amanda was wonderful, being a human pacifier was not particularly fun. Luckily it hasn’t been that way with Alyssa at all. She shows up right on schedule (her idea, not mine), she orders politely, she eats in a very dignified manner and when she's done, she's done. I expected her first cereal experience to be a similar thing but it wasn't.

You know that thing they do on Survivor every season where after the contestents have been existing on rocks and leaves for months, they auction off a chocolate bar and a spoonful of peanut butter and six women scratch each others' eyes out for their chance at it? That was Alyssa and her rice cereal. The girl was deadly serious about that cereal.
From the very first bite she ate like she was completely ravenous. We couldn't shovel the food in fast enough to keep her happy. She tried to assist in the process, helping her dad get the spoon into her mouth, grabbing for the bowl, because I think she knew she could do it more efficiently. When Amanda asked if she could feed her, I said, "be careful," a warning I offer on a regular basis, but this time I was more concerned for Amanda's safety, slightly afraid Alyssa might chew one of Amanda's fingers off… you know, if she had teeth.

So I sat there photographing every bite, feeling like a total jerk. Poor kid was clearly HUNGRY. Who knows how long she'd been waiting for this meal? And me just taking my sweet time. Oh well… Live and learn. She has a full belly now, and she'll be well fed from here on out. Time to move on to my next dumb parenting moment.

5 months old... a few days ago

Okay, in Amanda's baby scrapbook there is a monthly letter that I wrote on a very timely basis (for all you know). No reason Alyssa needs to know her 5-month letter was late, right? Can we all just agree on that right now, please?

3.18.06 (give or take a day or four)

Dear Alyssa,

You're five months old already! I can hardly believe it. You're doing so many new things now. You say "Da-da" and you also know how to grab ahold of your feet and put them in your mouth. This has become an obsessive pastime of yours and I'm afraid you'll have to stop doing that, you know, sometime before you start school. I totally understand though. I love your toes too.

You still love bathtime and the occasional shower with mom. You're not terribly interested in the pacifier anymore. You'll take one on occasion but you prefer to suck on your fingers, almost always the middle two. You don't have any teeth yet, but I'm pretty sure you'll be getting one soon. I think you're teething because you're a little fussier these days than usual and you will try to gnaw on anything within reach…which reminds me that you're reaching for things now…toys, your dad's glasses, your sister's hair.

You roll around a lot but your favorite mode of transportation at the moment (well other than being carried around like a little princess) is scooting. I think you thought this idea up on your own…I haven't noticed other babies doing it. While you're lying on your back you use your legs to get your butt off the ground and then scoot yourself backwards. You scoot all over the place and get rather ticked off when there's an obstacle in your way.

Lately when I put you on your tummy you put both arms in the air and sort of look like you're about to take flight. You played in the grass for the first time the other day at the park. And thanks to your dad, you also went down the slide and rode on this little bouncy tractor thing, all while I was screaming like psycho mommy not to let you get hurt… and umm… taking pictures.

I don't know how to say this, but somebody has to: You are quite possibly the stinkiest baby ever. Most of the time you have that wonderful baby smell and I could just nuzzle your neck forever because you smell as yummy as warm cookies. But you have your moments, Sweetie. I actually have to warn people when you're gassy. And usually they'll say say, "Oh noooooo, not this adorable little thing," but then at some point the look of horror will cross their faces and I'll say, "I tried to warn you." Nope, your poop does not smell like roses which is something I’m sure you’ll be delighted to know about when you’re 17 and I’m sharing this information with your prom date. If, in my baby book, MY mom had so much as hinted toward the fact that I'd ever even pooped, I would have been completely MORTIFIED and probably wouldn't have left my room for years. But you're a member of the T**** Family and in your dad's family, topics way more embarassing than this are discussed on a regular basis, so you may as well just get used to it now. Moving on to sweeter topics, you are LOUD! Well actually you're pretty quiet most of the time but then every once in a while you are REALLY LOUD…and I'm not talking about when you cry. It's not just squealing or babbling either. You actually scream loudly just for the heck of it. Gets me every time too. I'll look over expecting to see that the cat just ate one of your toes but you'll have this huge proud grin on your face, like yep, that was me and then you'll scream a few more times. Makes a mother proud, I tell you… we're going to make quite a team on the roller coasters someday. But it is kind of embarassing to take you in public.
You adore your big sister almost as much as she adores you. She has been a really wonderful big sister to you, right from the beginning. As far as I know she hasn't pinched you or hit you in the head even once. (I have a big brother so I was a bit nervous for you.) I hope you'll appreciate how good she's been to you someday when she is locking you out of her room and trying to tell you that you've ruined her life. The other day after you spit-up all over me and I joked that we were going to return you to the hospital, your sister fought HARD for you to stay. Yep, she said she would miss you way too much, so we've decided to keep you.

We sometimes keep you entertained with your sister's Baby Annabell doll - the one she got for Christmas. Not only does Annabell cry real tears but she babbles and coos like a real baby, which means she's your new best friend. Finally someone who talks the way that you do! When she's around you pretty much ignore the rest of us and have private little baby conversations.

I always thought Amanda was an easy baby, but you're even easier, considering that you don't want to eat every ten minutes and you actually sleep through the night. Have I thanked you for that lately? Thank you Alyssa…really appreciate the sleeping thing… you have no idea how much! One of the things about you that still surprises me is that sometimes when you're crying, all I have to do is flash a huge smile at you and you'll break into a smile too.
You're just a really happy baby and a total joy to have around. Everybody who meets you comments on it. You smile all the time and at everyone. You have this great belly laugh too, especially when I kiss your tummy or when we make loud, scary noises for your amusement. You’re such a goof ball, such a ham–with your big, wet, gummy grin. Despite the moments where I feel worn out from lugging your little hair-pulling self around, I adore you and I wouldn't trade this time with you for anything.

Love,
Mommy

Trying to catch up

I know... I'm getting really bad about keeping this blog up to date. But there's not much excitement around here.

We spent a few days at my mother-in-law's house over the long weekend and had a great time. Amanda kept her Grandma running every single minute. That's them in the picture. (Grandma is getting a well-deserved break after Amanda finally conked out.) They adore each other and have so much fun together.

Now for an update on the girls... Amanda is her usual self... running around, playing dress-up, making lots of noise, dragging out every toy she owns. She tried out her new skates for the first time this month. I hear she did pretty well. I didn't have the nerve to watch. I just bundled her up in safety gear, took a couple of pictures and then left her alone with her dad. I would have ruined the fun anyway by screaming, "be careful" and "watch out" every two seconds. Amanda said it was fun and had no visible injuries so maybe she's not too young for skates after all. (I would have waited until she was either 34 or until they start padding the sidewalks, whichever comes first.)

For some reason everything is about heroes with her in the last couple of weeks. Super Barbie, Super Amanda. She runs around the house with a blanket tied around her neck asking, "Is anybody in trouble? Does anyone need any help?" It's a bird, it's a plane it's Super Amanda... Flying through the house saving her baby sister and her dolls from peril... destroying the house in a single bound. (Sorry about the blurry photo, but superheroes don't slow down or have time to pose for pictures.)

For the life of me, I can't figure out where the hero thing came from. Maybe from Trystan, her friend from next door. Actually it suddenly occurs to me that Amanda's "alter-ego" usually shows up when she's wearing a pair of Trystan's jammies. One night our neighbor sent Amanda home wearing a pair of Trystan's old p.j.'s, (a pair of well-worn Elmo footy jammies with the feet cut off because Trystan had loved them so much that he wasn't ready to give them up even when they started to get a bit too small.) They've been washed and ready to return for months but I keep forgetting to give them back.

When we found out a couple of weeks ago that our neighbors are moving soon (messing up our master plan that Trystan and Amanda would grow up together, fall in love and live happily ever after) I was sad and asked Amanda if she wanted to wear Trystan's jammies that night. Dumb question... of course she did... and has wanted to wear them several times since. No wonder Trystan loved them. They have super powers!

Alyssa had her four month check-up last week and was pronounced healthy, of course. (That's her and Dr. Quan, below.) She was also pronounced an easy baby and happy, happy, happy. That's because the doctor didn't stick around to see how she reacted to her four shots: not happy at all. In fact I'm not sure if I've ever seen her so mad before. And I don't blame her.


She weighs 13 lbs. 8 oz. now and is 24 inches long. For those of you keeping track, that's a full 6 lbs. and nearly 3 inches less than Amanda was at this age. The doctor compares their charts every time we go so this time I asked her to write down the info since people are constantly asking me how big was Amanda at this age? and I can never remember. Alyssa is in the 50th percentile, while Amanda was in the 100th so according to Dr. Quan, Alyssa is officially the little sister.

The doctor asked if Alyssa had been putting her toes in her mouth and I practically hung my head in shame. I've kept them so covered up to keep icicles from forming on them that Alyssa has barely seen her toes, let alone put them in her mouth. Amanda's baby scrapbook has a two page layout about her finding her toes and my, well... somewhat weird obsession with that particular milestone... weird because I was totally laid back about all the other milestones... but the toe milestone was celebrated like no other, mostly just because I find babies playing with their toes completely adorable.

So I've given Alyssa and her toes plenty of alone time this week. And she is fascinated with them. They haven't quite made it into her mouth yet, but they'll get there. Oh and she finally rolled over today, from back to front. She rolled from front to back weeks ago, so now she'll be rolling all over the place.

Alyssa "talked" LOUDLY through the entire episode of 24 last night. That's probably Scott's favorite show at the moment so he was not happy. I like the show too but Alyssa cracked me up. Amanda talks pretty much all day long, non-stop, but Alyssa is pretty quiet unless she really needs something and then she'll cry. Then there are times when she'll just talk and talk and talk. And that time just happened to be during the latest episode of 24.

I remember overhearing my dad tell someone once, "Dione doesn't talk that much so when she does I figure it must be important so I pay attention." I sort of feel that way about Alyssa. Like she might jump in with some wildly interesting tidbit at any moment in between the squealing and the aaaaaaaahhhs.

Scott had finally gotten Amanda to quiet down a bit by telling her to talk inside her head, but when Alyssa started up, well what are you gonna do? He kept turning around to look at us because she was so loud he couldn't hear the show and I'd just give him that sympathetic, "Those darn kids," look and say, "Alyssa, talk inside your head!"

Happy Valentine's Day

From me and my two little sweeties.

New pictures to keep Grandma happy

Two years ago

Two years ago today, I sat by my dad's hospital bedside and said good-bye to him for the very last time.

It's funny to me how some of the details of that day are so crystal clear in my memory while other details have disappeared completely. Like I don't remember the phone call telling me that I needed to get to the hospital immediately. Did my mom call me or was it my sister?

I remember riding to the hospital with my sister, daughter and nieces. But I have no idea if I met my sister at her house or if she picked me up at mine. I have no idea what we talked about during that long ride but I remember thinking that if we just acted like everything was normal that maybe things would turn out okay. We'd come close to losing my dad several times before and this would be just another one of those times. I remember telling myself that everything was going to be just fine but I also remember the voice lurking in the back of my head telling me that it might not be, not this time.

I remember that when we finally arrived at the hospital we all piled out of the car and rushed toward the door. And I'll never ever forget the sight of my brother walking toward us from the other side of the parking lot. The look on his face. The way he was shaking his head. The feeling of the wind suddenly being knocked out of me. I don't remember if it was my voice or my sister's that in a shocked tone said, "He's gone."

And then I remember the intense feeling of relief flooding my body as my brother explained that my mom had kept my dad on life-support so we would all have the chance to say good-bye. I can't imagine that I would have processed the idea of my father on life-support as good news had I not faced the other possibility first. But suddenly I was grateful for the opportunity to hold his hand one last time and to say good-bye.

I remember spending hours and hours by his bedside. Much of it is a blur but I remember talking, laughing, crying and telling lots of funny stories. I remember hoping with everything in me that he could hear us. Hoping he knew we were all there…his wife and kids and grandkids all around him. I remember Amanda dancing around like a goofball, which my dad would have appreciated. And the laughter… I know he would have been happy that there was a lot of laughter in the midst of all the tears. He wouldn't have wanted us to sink into sadness. I remember the moment my mom mentioned that she'd forgotten to turn his hearing aid back on. It had been off all day. I remember being upset at first but then I imagined my dad laughing and thinking isn't it enough that you expect me to hear you through a comatose state but I have to do it without my hearing aid too?

I remember trying to memorize the way my hand felt in his knowing that I'd never get to hold his hand again. I remember staring at the calendar on the wall and thinking that this would be one of those days that would be etched in my memory for all time. February 11 would forever be marked with sadness for me. I remember stealing that page from the calendar as I walked out the door for the last time. I remember the way my sister insisted on staying with him until the very last minute, not wanting him to be alone for even a minute. Until they came to take him away.

One year ago today I found out I was pregnant with Alyssa.

It was completely unexpected. I was writing a letter to my dad… my way of processing my emotions, I guess… when I suddenly had the sensation in my belly like a baby was kicking. Extremely weird since I wasn't pregnant. Must be indigestion...Those two sensations never felt the same to me but still I was asking myself... Geez, what could I possibly have eaten for breakfast that is now kicking me? I felt the same kicking sensation over and over again and kept thinking that even if there was the remotest chance that I could be pregnant, you can't feel kicking until the 16th week at the earliest. Yes, I'm scatterbrained... but even if I WAS pregnant I KNEW I wasn't THAT pregnant. But the kicking sensation went on for hours... what did I eat anyway?

Finally I said out loud, "Okay Dad… Real funny. I know I'm not pregnant but I'll take a pregnancy test." As soon as Scott got home, I went to the store and bought the cheapest pregnancy test they had KNOWING it would be negative and I would be throwing it away three minutes later. But NOOOOOOOO... there were those two little pink lines. I had to take a second test because I didn't quite believe the first one. It was positive too. I was pregnant.

So I decided then that from now on February 11 would have to be about celebrating life…my dad's life and my new baby's… So instead of being sad, I'll spend today being grateful that I had such a wonderful father and maybe wonder a bit which traits his youngest grandchild might inherit from him.

For Christmas 2003, I made my dad a scrapbook called "50 Reasons I Love You." I'm including the journaling below to give you an idea of what kind of father he was and why I miss him so much.

50 Reasons I Love You

1. You taught me by example to make sure the people you love know that you love them.
2. You taught me that I could choose to be happy and that it’s more important to be happy than to be right.
3. You are incredibly patient. How did you raise four kids without losing your mind?
4. You’re funny. You tell great jokes and stories, sometimes over and over and over. (Is that so we won’t forget them?)
5. You always manage to stay unbelievably calm, even under stressful circumstances.
6. You always made me feel safe. I never felt like anything bad could happen to me while I was in you care.
7. You’re one of my favorite people to dance with.
8. You’re always singing. I’ve always felt comforted by that, as if when you are singing everything is right with the world. (I’m not saying that your singing is good, necessarily, but it is comforting!)
9. You taught me that life is too short to hold grudges.
10. Whenever you signed my report cards, you wrote really great comments about me for my teacher to read.
11. You always helped me with my homework.
12. You taught me that it’s okay not to have all the answers, because nobody does. Sometimes it’s okay to say, “I don’t know.” and sometimes the answers are easier than you think:
    · Dione: Why is that woman bald?
    · Dad: Because she has no hair.
13. You made Danny give me the “Kiss Me” ring in exchange for that stupid “NFL” ring when I was five, securing your position as “hero” in my eyes.
14. Whenever I had to have blood tests or get shots you held my hand and let me squeeze as hard as I could.
15. The talks we had when you drove me to school and the long walks while holding your hand meant a lot to me.
16. You taught me by example not to let little things bother me, to roll with the punches.
17. You once explained to me that when you asked me to clean my room, you were really only hoping to be able to see at least part of the floor.
18. You taught us the importance of safety. You insisted we wear seatbelts long before it was the law. (You used to reach back and PINCH us if we forgot to put them on, so I rarely forgot!) And thanks to you, I will never ever cook while wearing long loose sleeves since I imagine I would burst into flames if I even considered it.
19. You made me promise you I wouldn’t get married until I was at least 25.
20. You chauffeured me to my senior prom, filled the limo full of balloons while you waited for us, and saw to it that we had a wonderful time.
21. You taught me the importance of being able to laugh at myself.
22. You’re a hard worker. You worked hard to support our family and take care of the house, the yard, and the cars. And now that you’re retired it seems like you’re always working around the house and frequently pouring cement (What’s up with all that cement?).
23. You’re one of the wisest people I know and you give great advice.
24. You encouraged me to do the things I love.
25. You give great hugs, and I get at least one every time I see you.
26. You taught me how to treat people:
    - Be generous with praise and sparse with criticism.
    - Treat people with respect; treat them like you would want to be treated.
    - When someone gives you a compliment, just say “Thank you!” (Don’t try to convince them of being wrong.)
    - When someone insults you, say “Thank you.” (It will blow that person’s mind).
    - Admit when you’re wrong. People will respect you for it.
    - Always look people in the eye and SMILE. (You said that I’d be surprised how many people would smile at me if I smiled first, and it’s true!)
27. You made us get all dressed up in Christmas jammies and do a photo-shoot.
28. You encouraged my love of writing. You taught me that if I didn’t know the meaning of a word, to look it up in the dictionary. You read my papers and gave me constructive criticism. You told me to write to be understood, not to impress.
29. I inherited my fabulous sense of direction from you. 3? 5? 4? 6???
30. You taught me that life isn’t all fun & games by having Danny & I spend Saturday mornings doing yard work (Man, I HATED that!!!).
31. You’re brave. You’ve faced your battle with leukemia head on, somehow maintaining a positive attitude and doing whatever you had to do to fight this horrible disease. I don’t think I’ve ever told you how proud I am of you. Your strength amazes me!
32. You bought me my first camera and then patiently taught me how to take great pictures.
33. You make great breakfasts, especially your biscuits and poached eggs (but why did you have to make the scrambled eggs green?).
34. You always said you had a blast raising us kids, which made me look forward to having kids of my own.
35. You have always been there for the most important moments in my life.
36. You have always been able to fix what’s broken (plus you made a very cool light-box for me!).
37. You were always there to encourage me when I was afraid to do something. Even now, when I’m nervous about trying something, I hear your voice in my head asking, “What’s the worst thing that could possibly happen?”
38. When you had to give me spankings, you always said, “This is going to hurt me worse than it’s going to hurt you.” (A nice thought but I still don’t believe it!)
39. You always said, “Never look a gift-horse in the mouth.” I understood the concept, but for years I wondered, “What the heck is a gift-horse and WHY shouldn’t you look it in the mouth???”
40. Mom could have done a lot worse. Two words: Bald redhead.
41. You always told me that I was adaptable, that you thought I could survive in any situation. I never really believed that about myself, but the fact that YOU believed it made me think there was a chance it might actually be true.
42. You always told me not to worry about what other people think of me.
43. I have always felt lucky to be your daughter. I always loved being able to “show you off” to my friends. And they all loved you too. In fact, everyone who knows you loves you!
44. You’re the only one I ever wanted to walk me down the aisle. And one of my favorite wedding moments was when you were asked, "Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" and you responded, "Her mother and I do FINALLY. She's our baby and she's a good one so you better be good to her, Scott, or…”
45. You always tried to be fair... like spanking both Danny and I even when it was Danny that caused the problem, so that he didn’t feel singled out...Wait a second, that wasn’t FAIR!
46. You’re a wonderful grandpa.
47. You always told me that there is no point in worrying. “If there’s something you can do about it, do it, if there’s nothing you can do about it, then what’s the point in worrying?”
48. I can always count on you to tell me I’m beautiful, even when I don’t feel beautiful.
49. You taught me to hide an extra car key somewhere on my car and an extra house-key outside my house (Just these two simple ideas have saved my butt about a million times!).
50. I’ve never had to wonder how you felt about me. You have always made me feel loved, always made me feel special, and always told me that you’re proud of me. You’ll never know how much that means to me.
    

On the agenda this week at our house...

Finger-eating and finger-painting. Just don't try to do both at the same time.

Just sharing a picture

Here's Amanda in one of the new sweaters she got for Christmas. Thanks Grandma!

People told me that Amanda would suddenly look much older when I brought the new baby home and it's so true. She just looks like such a little girl here. Where did my baby go?

Can she really be three months old?

Yep, it's true. Alyssa turned three months old yesterday. I just love this age. She's cooing like a crazy woman. I can be in the worst mood ever and she flashes me one of those smiles, throws in a big enthusiastic gaaaaaaaaaaaah and I'm just falling all over myself. We have long conversations now. I just wish I knew what she was saying.

She still seems so small to me, which I am truly grateful for. Amanda flew through the tiny baby stage in about a minute and a half, I think. Alyssa can still wear most of her size 0 – 3 months clothes and I love that. At Alyssa's last appointment, her doctor made a point of telling me several times that she is average. (She doesn't have kids or she would know better than to tell a mother that her child is average. Average? Are you kidding me? Can't you see that she is spectacular in every single way?) She was only referring to Alyssa's size though. She's in the 55th percentile, which is tiny compared to her sister, who was a little butterball baby and was already off the charts in height and weight by this age.

She loves her pacifier but if it's not available she will happily put her fingers in her mouth, as many fingers as she can, as a matter of fact. She slurps so loudly and enthusiastically that it sounds like she's devouring some sinful dessert. Every once in a while I want to yank those little fingers out of her mouth to make sure she hasn't found my chocolate stash. Alyssa is fascinated by her hands, frequently staring at one of her fists as if it's just the coolest thing she's ever seen. (I remember I thought it was odd when Amanda did this but I guess it's a normal baby thing…or perhaps both of my children are freaks.) She's still sleeping through the night. (Thank you Alyssa!) She loves her swing, her mobile, and her rattle. Her sister is continually offering up a wide variety of other toys for her enjoyment but mostly gets a pretty unenthusiastic response.

Oh! Alyssa laughed for the first time a few days ago. I was washing her face with a warm washcloth and she started giggling. She did it a couple of times but then stopped. Later that night, Scott made a loud noise and it startled her. Her whole body jerked and I thought she might cry, but instead she laughed. So of course he repeated the loud scary stuff over and over again. She would laugh each time, which was just about the cutest sound on earth so then we would all laugh. But since then, she hasn't laughed even once, despite our repeated annoying attempts to get her to do so. I know… her face can only get so clean and if Scott doesn't knock it off with all the "BOO!" stuff we'll have to put her on anxiety medication before she hits the six-month mark. She's probably thinking we need to get some better material and don't think we're not trying.

Did I mention that I'm loving every minute of this? I am. But why does she have to grow up? I keep finding myself trying to memorize every single detail about her yummy little baby-self… the way she wraps all of her fingers around my pinky, the smell of her little fuzzy head, the sound of her sweet voice, the big drooling gummy smile she breaks into if you even so much as glance in her general direction… I find myself watching her while she sleeps and I keep wishing there was a way to freeze time somehow. But then I remind myself that I've felt exactly the same way about Amanda at every single age along the way.

Every age and stage they go through is wonderful for different reasons. (Well the screaming tantrum stage is not exactly delightful.) I know it will only get better but I still plan to enjoy every minute of this stage. So when she falls asleep in my arms I won't be rushing to put her down so I can finish the laundry or anything silly like that. Clean socks are highly overrated anyway.

Aren't they sweet when they're sleeping?