What's Up With Scoops - Dec 2015 Edition

I'm not sure how I feel about continuing with the monthly updates. I've stopped taking photos like I did for the first twelve months, and somehow it seems strange to write an update when I haven't taken a photo with the chalkboard. (That, and I can't seem to post the updates until about a month after they've happened.) But since I already had a 13-month post drafted, and since Scoops will be 14 months old this weekend, I figured, meh, why the heck not. Without much glamour (i.e. in a bulleted list), let me tell you what Scoops was up to at 13 months:

• Finally started signing "more"
• Has signed "potty" once
• Has a word for "airplane" but not the actual word
• Easily climbs out of my lap when done nursing and/or ready to play
• LOVES books, and asks to have them read to her
• Plays peek-a-boo by covering her face with her hands, a blanket, or the shower curtain (yes)
• Interacts with every page of Pat the Bunny
• Loves her blankie and snuggle bunny
• Loves her "drumsticks" and xylophone from daddy
• Sips out of her play cups and washes her dishes in the play kitchen sink
• Takes toys out of one container and collects them in another
• Stands up easily from sitting
• Learning to use a spoon and fork to feed herself
• Thinks "protein" is the best food group ever
• Is mostly sleeping through the night
• Pooping in the potty almost daily
• Dancing on the reg :)
• Talking/babbling a lot
• Can identify body parts (Head and Shoulders song, anyone?)
• Learning the difference between you/yours and me/mine

And since 14 months will be here in just a few days, I'm going to preemptively write a few updates to the above list. 

• Understands the power of signing "more"
• Signs "please" - but not actually (her attempt at recreating the sign is to pat both shoulders at once)
• Says "pease?" or "pwease?" (and yes, it is the cutest thing in the world)
• Identifies by pointing and/or naming Mama, Dada, and Baby (herself)
• Identifies other people by pointing, when asked
• Is definitely an intermediate user of spoons and forks (she still misses a lot, but she's hitting her targets more and more now!)
• Loves being chased, tickled, and startled by Extreme Peek-a-Boo with daddy
• Thinks her farts are at least a notable accomplishment, at best cause for a laugh attack
• Blows actual kisses, with a sweet kissy noise - this is also her response when we tell her to say "I love you" to someone
• Dances to any music or musical/rhythmic sound. Acutally, she starts dancing if we even mention music. (She is her mother's daughter.)
• Has a full 7 teeth (3 on the bottom, 4 on top), and seems to be getting more although I can't feel them coming in yet
• Said "Santa" tonight while watching the old-school stop motion animation Rudolph movie (yes, I teared up)

Enjoying a quiet little break at a very lively Thanksgiving celebration

I'm enjoying watching my little girl rapidly grow and develop. I've become very comfortable with referring to her as a toddler, though I've taught her to refer to herself as The Baby. She will always be my baby. 

I realized this evening that I don't take as many photos of her as I think other moms must take of their babies. I feel like I'm often told to take a picture when Scoops is doing something cute, but I don't always like to. She knows what my phone is (and that she's not allowed to play with it), and she knows that we can take pictures on it. But one day a couple months ago, when I was logging her meal in my baby tracker app, I looked up to see her imitating me tapping my phone screen. It would have been cute, except that she was urgently crying out "mama mama mama!" while doing it, and clearly trying to get my attention. I don't want her thinking my phone is an extension of my arm, or that it's more valuable or interesting to me than she is. I also don't want to miss being part of special and significant moments just because I was trying to document them. (But if I can get a vid of her saying "pwease" you can bet your ass it'll be posted on the internet, quick status.) So I might have less photos than other moms, but I'm ultimately ok with that.

At almost 14 months, I am feeling much more settled into mommyhood. I am completely aware that I still have much to learn as Scoops gets older, but I also feel that I have lots of valuable information to share with newer moms. The newborn stage seems so incredibly far behind me now, even though it also feels like it was just yesterday. I know that I appreciated the advice of, shall we say, seasoned moms? when I was a brand-new mommy. I hope I can pay that forward now. I'm feeling a renewed motivation for writing with this realization (or remembering, maybe) that I actually have something to offer to the blog-o-sphere, so expect to see more of my musings soon!

Scoops is One

Since Scoops will be turning 13 months old tomorrow, I thought this might be a good time to write a 12-month update. Life, am I right?

To be honest, I don't remember all the details I had intended to write about immediately following her first birthday. But I don't think that really matters. I look at the photo above and see my smiling girl, so much still a baby as she tentatively steps into toddlerhood, and I have to remember that's all that matters. I started this blog to share about all the ways in which I'm a very normal and imperfect parent, and to create a community of love and support for other new moms and dads who feel the sincere struggle that accompanies the joy of growing your family. I don't want to get so wrapped up in my OCD - I mean, uh, in the details of writing - that I forget why I started Scoops of Poops. It's in the name. Especially in those first few months, but even now, every day has some poop, literal or figurative, and I usually have to clean it up. I'd like to think I'm not alone in that, and I'd like to help others know they're not alone either. 

Case in point: this blog is my kid's baby book. I don't have a physical one. And, yes, I periodically worry that the internet might die and I'll lose all her photos and my remarks on them. But then I remind myself that if the internet is dead, we probably have much bigger problems than lost baby photos. I digress.

Another case in point: I'm writing a 12-month post at 13 months. BUT I am writing it. I almost didn't. A few times I thought "What's the point?" And then I realized I need to do it, for one simple reason.

Because I said I would. I told myself I'd write this post, and by God, I'm going to do it. I have to follow through on what I say I'll do, to honor my words and to teach my daughter to honor her words. This also teaches me to abandon my fear of judgement or failure and just do what I said I'd do. It doesn't matter how many people read or don't read this post. All that matters is that I write it.

So here it is, the 12-month recap. At 1 year of age, Scoops has greenish-blue eyes, and lovely soft blonde hair that is finally just long enough for pigtails. She is signing "milk" like nobody's business, but sometimes uses the sign to mean "I want that" and not just for milk. Two of her top teeth finally busted through, but not the two center. It was one of the center ones and the one just to the other side of it, so she has a cute lopsided grin now. She is lifting her hands and shrugging her shoulders constantly, and it's so cute it breaks my heart. She really sounds like she's asking questions when she does it, too. She can stand up without holding on to anything, but she doesn't often like to. She has started blowing kisses (but she just brings her palm to her mouth, and doesn't actually throw the kisses to anyone). It's become part of her morning routine as she waves goodbye to daddy when he leaves for work, but the first person to catch a kiss blown from Scoops was her Grammy, which melted all of our hearts.

We threw a party for her at a local park, and since she is Scoops, it was an ice cream themed party. My wonderful husband and I slaved over a Pinterest-worthy ice cream cone garland that took so much effort to create that it's now on display in our living room. I may leave it up until Scoops' next birthday (kidding). We gave her a smash cake from Whole Foods, and she loved it. She also loved sharing bites of it with everyone sitting near her. Other than the intricate garland, it was a pretty simple party, with just cupcakes and an ice cream bar for food, water and apple cider (because Fall) to drink, and blankets for guests to sit upon.

The ice cream cone garland from Hell. Not really, that's just what we went through to make it.

Since her birthday was on a Monday, we had the party the weekend before. On her actual birthday, we took her to a small, local aquarium and got to look at some fun sea creatures, a tall ship, and play on a tide-pool play set. Later, we got greek street food, and Scoops tasted her first gyro, which she liked so much that she tried to steal it right out of my hands several times. We took her to see the ocean waves, and helped her practice walking along the boardwalk. She's still not walking on her own, but she loves to walk between mommy and daddy while we hold her hands. It's one of my favorite activities, actually.

Everyone I've talked to says that baby's first birthday is a celebration for mom (some say mom and dad) as well for "making it through the first year." I have to say I don't really see it that way. It's not like I get to check out after the first year, even if I wanted to. And it's not like she turned one and I was suddenly imparted with a shit-ton of parental wisdom and therefore know exactly what I'm doing now. I'm still adjusting. I'm still learning. I'm still just trying to figure things out day to day. As always, I try (though I am often less than successful) to keep my priorities straight: love myself, love my spouse, and love my baby, thereby fostering love on a much grander scale than just our family unit. 

Until next time, happy parenting!

Scoops is 11 Months

Today, my sweet little Scoops is 11 months old. Time truly is flying by. The "memory" feature on my Facebook feed is making this reality a little stranger to process. I keep seeing photos of my swollen pregnant belly, and reminding myself that a year ago Scoops was still in the womb! It feels both like she just got here, and like she's been here for a long time. Gone is the newborn baby who used to wriggle and squeak so quietly in my arms, content to lie still and sleep much of the day. This child is practically a toddler now. She's not walking yet, but heaven help you if you try to lay her in your arms "like a baby." She is strong, so strong, and she prefers to sit up straight, or even better, to crawl as fast as she can, no matter where she is. She has started walking on her hands and feet instead of just crawling on her hands and knees, so real walking must be just around the corner. 

She loves things that go. Every time she hears an airplane or helicopter flying by, she looks for it and usually points at it, following it with her eyes until it is out of sight. Motorcycles, big trucks, and fire engines are also fascinating. We often see fire engines returning as we walk past the fire station on our street, and the fire fighters always cheerfully wave and smile at the wonder-eyed Scoops. She made friends with a burly old motorcycle rider as we walked home from the park one day. Let me tell you, few things will warm a mother's heart like seeing a rough looking biker dude smile and wave to an admiring infant. 

Much to my joy, a few weeks ago she started making a new noise along the lines of "deedle eedle." Sometimes she adds to it and says it as if she's asking a question that sounds like, "deedle eedle liddle diddle daddle?" Sometimes this cuteness is accompanied by a lifting of hands and shrugging of shoulders, for maximum cuteness overload. It took me a while to figure it out, but she has a couple toys that have chimes in them, and I'm pretty sure the "deedle eedle" sound is her imitation of the chimes.

She has two teeth, the bottom front pair. She loves solid food, but lately has more enjoyed spitting it out and playing with it than eating it. Her hair is lovely golden blonde, and almost long enough for itty bitty pigtails. Her eyes are greenish blue, and still as piercing and inquisitive as ever. She claps her hands like a champ, points at things she likes or wants, and, when she's not pretending to be shy, gives adorable high fives. She has started shaking her head "no" in obvious response when she doesn't want something (for example, when I ask "Do you want more zuchinni?" or "Do you want to go to grandma?"). Luckily, she's cute, so it's not terribly frustrating at this point. I'm just glad that she's learning to communicate. She also pushes people or things away when she's not interested, which has led to a few hurt feelings, but again, the cute factor helps alleviate most butt-hurtedness. 

She wakes up most nights now. Sometimes I get lucky and she only wakes up once, right when I'm going to bed, and then sleeps the rest of the night. Those nights are great. More often, however, she wakes up at least twice a night. It has been hard for me, as someone who never could function well on limited sleep, even before having a baby. I try to take it in stride, and most days I can smile through the sleepless headaches, focus on the cuteness, and force myself to stop producing and sleep when the baby sleeps. Some days, I can't deal so well. On those days, I try to take deep breaths, talk perspective into myself, reach out to friends and family for help and support, and still force myself to sleep when the baby sleeps. To that end, my home has not been cleaned for a few weeks, and I have a pile of opened but unsorted mail on my desk that is waiting to be filed. 

I question whether I'm doing the right thing every time I pick my baby up to nurse her in the middle of the night. But I also questioned whether I was doing the right thing when I attempted night weaning for a full week and had my husband get up and feed Scoops a bottle every time she awoke. In fact, as I write this I'm questioning myself, because I've just left a still-whimpering baby with my husband after I've been trying to get her back to sleep for over an hour. (This is not a typical situation, though. Usually she just wants a few minutes of nursing when she wakes up, and then she goes right back to sleep in her own bed.) I'm trying to just have confidence in my intuition, which usually tells me to go to my crying child, let her nurse, and put her back to bed when she's done. Lately that solution has also involved some co-sleeping, because otherwise the only way I can keep her quiet, still, and at least close to asleep is by standing and rocking her while she nurses. Not a comfortable position at 3 a.m. Side-lying nursing FTW!

Aside from constantly questioning myself, I worry a lot, too. Probably more than I should. I worry about conflict in other parts of the world, and my heart aches for the mothers and children who are suffering. I worry about that kind of conflict finding its way into my home, and pray that it never will. I wonder how I can help, and seek out opportunities to give in whatever ways I can. I try not to worry, just as I try not to question myself. I sincerely believe that I can help the flow of the universe if I let go of negative, unproductive worries and allow myself to feel and emanate peace and bliss. So that's what I do. I try to breathe deeply and cultivate peace in my home and my heart, and send that peace out to everyone else in the world. If we want to create a peaceful reality, we need to start living it. Ultimately that's what I want for my daughter: to live in a peaceful world, with a peaceful heart. If I want her to have that, I need to model it for her. It may not always feel easy, but it is simple. And she may not be a newborn anymore, but she is still my baby, and I still have every intention of fulfilling my duty to provide for and protect her in the best of every possible way.

Until next month...

Scoops is 10 Months

Although my hormones have been souring my experience of life in general recently, I am still joyfully, albeit bittersweetly, in awe of how quickly my little Scoops has grown. She is 10 months old today. In honor of my need for rest, I'll keep this post as short as possible.

She has two teeth. The first popped out a few weeks ago, and the second just pushed its first corner through last night. 

Her hair has grown in thicker and blonder, with a delicious strawberry tint (I always wanted a ginger baby!).

Her eyes are a beautiful, mysterious blue, dark around the outside, deep and watery in the middle, with the thinnest hint of a sea green ring in the center of all that blue. A friend recently remarked that Scoops' eyes look like the ocean. Their depth is appropriate, as she continues to lock willing victims in her fervent gaze as she peers into their souls (or something dramatic like that).

She is still petite, but she has certainly grown taller. I notice when I lay her down in her crib at night how much more of it she fills. She used to look so tiny, as if she could get lost in her crib. Now she spreads out when she lays down to sleep and takes up about half her crib space with her lanky limbs. She is quite tiny, and we've been monitoring her weight gain to make sure nothing is the matter. She's usually quite cheerful though, and incredibly strong (people who hold her all agree on this point), so I'm of the opinion that she's getting plenty to eat, she's just burning it all off rapidly because she's a spazz.

Speaking of eating, she has started joining us at the table for 3 meals a day for about the past month. She enjoys feeding herself chunks of veggies and fruits (especially black beans!) and has tried carrots, sweet potato, avocado, egg yolk, zucchini, yellow squash, oatmeal, and plum. She's still very fond of breastfeeding, however, and continues to wish I would never wear a shirt. We've added small amounts of water and diluted prune juice to her diet here and there as well, and she's beginning to get the hang of her sippy cup.

She keeps adding fun new skills to her repertoire. A couple weeks ago she began really clapping her hands regularly and exuberantly to show joy or satisfaction. Then she started pointing, folding up her other fingers and just pointing with her index finger. Now she's picked up on our hand washing lessons, and proudly rubs her hands together with a great big smile when I say, "Show me how you wash your hands!" She's been pulling herself up to standing since last month, but last week I caught her standing all on her own, without holding on to anything. She did it right in front of me as I was sitting on the floor talking with a friend, and I'm not sure whether she pulled herself up on my legs (probably) and then let go and stood, or if she just stood straight up from sitting. Either way, I was so caught off guard that I think my excited reaction startled her into sitting down again. I haven't been able to get her to repeat the stunt, but I'm sure she will soon and often. Just another harbinger of the walking to come!

She says words. Real words. I'm crying as I write this, because it means my little baby is growing up. Oh, the paradox of motherhood! We want them to grow into self-sufficient people, but we don't want to lose our babies. But I digress. A couple of weeks ago she was sitting on the potty and heard a dog barking. She looked in the direction of the sound and thoughtfully, quietly said, "dolg." Then she looked me right in the eyes as the dog continued to bark and said definitively, "dog." Actually, to be fair, it looked and sounded like she was saying "doldg," which was one of the cutest things I've ever seen to watch her little mouth and tongue try to catch up with her brain. This morning she heard our neighbors get in their car and start the engine, and she announced, "cahr." She's been saying mama/mommy for a while, and added in dada/daddy a couple months ago, but now she's using non-parental words. It sounds like she's trying to say Opie, our dog's name, too. We just keep encouraging her and going with it whenever we hear her say anything that resembles an appropriate word, like "OK," "yeah," or "grandma," for example.

She climbs up the stairs, fast as anything, when I set her at the bottom (don't worry, I follow closely behind her). She loves to crawl out of the nursery and into mommy and daddy's room. As we chase her and playfully say "I'm gonna get you!" she giggles like it's the funniest thing ever. She loves to play with her reflection in the mirror in the master bedroom, loves to smile at herself in the bathroom mirror, absolutely loves to brush her teeth every morning and evening (she actually gets very upset sometimes when we take the toothbrush away to go have breakfast or bedtime). 

She sits on the potty every morning when she wakes up, after naps, and every evening before bed. We try to stay attuned to her signals and take her at other times during the day if we sense she needs to go. We're working on learning the signs for "potty" etc so we can communicate better about this. She's at the point now where she really doesn't like to go poop in her diaper. Pee doesn't seem to bother her much, but she will fuss about poop until we set her on the toilet so she can go like a big girl. I didn't really set out to potty train my infant, just to give her another option besides the diaper, but it seems to be working well for her!

Possibly my favorite little game of hers, which she started last month, I think, but continues to do still, is her imitation our playful nibbling kisses. She grabs our faces in her hands, opens her mouth wide, and latches both lips and gums onto a cheek, chin, forehead, or nose, all while making an "ahhh" noise to (I suppose) imitate our "nom nom nom" sounds when we kiss her like we're gobbling her up. I see her processing and trying to imitate lots of our sounds and behaviors now, which makes me increasingly aware of the fact that I need to curb my language and behave as I want her to behave. 

Although she no longer likes to be held "like a baby" unless she's falling asleep, she is still my baby. I will not get ahead of myself, and I will treasure her just as she is, as little as she is, for as long as I can. I will take the good days with the bad. I will pray daily for patience, wisdom, and a massive change of heart to make me into a woman my child will be proud to emulate. Mostly, I will love my daughter, my husband, and myself. And that is enough for now.

Gloriously Imperfect

Hi there! I've been away for a while, I know. I'll admit it: I've been scared. And overwhelmed. I feel like I'm in a rut. I don't know which way I'm going, I don't know why I should bother writing, I'm afraid I'll have to go back to a desk job soon... All of these negative thoughts are just eating away at me, and when I know this blog is still in its infancy it's just so easy to say "Who cares? No one will notice if I don't write for a month." Really, while this blog is in its infancy I should be cranking out a minimum of 2 posts per week and doing everything I can to gain more readers. But I'm tired! And I feel like there's no point. I don't mean that to sound ungrateful to the readers I do have, but while I appreciate the loyal friends and family who pay attention to my tiny corner of the interwebs, I have no grand delusions about the size of my current audience.

I started this blog to share my normalcy with everyone; to celebrate when I accomplish something of which I can be proud; to share fun little projects or recipes I've created or tried, life hacks or products that have made my days easier; but mostly to show other new parents that it's OK to not be perfect. You could say my mission is "to illuminate the glorious imperfections of parenting." Allow me to illuminate my current imperfections for you now.

I'm just so overwhelmed at present. I feel kind of miserable (not every minute of the day, but often), like my whole life is off track. I wanted this baby so very badly, and I still do, of course. It's just mind boggling to me that I could have wanted her so badly, that I could love her so incredibly much, and still somehow find I have less and less patience for her whining and screaming than I did at 3 months. Does that make me a bad parent? This is all I wanted. This is all I've ever wanted: to stay home and raise a baby! So why does it feel so completely dissatisfying at times? At almost 10 months postpartum I've finally had thoughts of going back to work, for no other reason than to get a daily break from my sweet, whining baby. But then I get terrified about having to report to a job on time, because it takes me 3 hours to get anywhere these days. (Literally, it took me 3 hours to get to a play date today.) Aside from that, I'm virtually useless because I'm so sleep deprived I can hardly keep my eyes open. So I go to bed early, and then Scoops wakes up multiple times during the night (Teething? Growth spurt? Who gives a rip? It all translates to less sleep) and I feel more exhausted the next day than I did when I was staying up until midnight trying to get shit done. Besides, I don't really want to go back to a "real job" anyway, because in my heart of hearts I know I want to stay with Scoops all day. But then she's trying to pick that little mole I didn't even know I had off my neck again while she's supposed to be nursing, and I swear I just need a friggin' break!

This is the constant cycle of my thoughts these days. I love love LOVE my sweet baby girl to the ends of the Earth, but when her naps last exactly long enough for me pee and wash up her mess from whatever meal she had immediately prior to naptime, and then do it all over again, I start to feel frustrated. I feel mundane, and I feel like if my life is so routine and mundane, then why do I seem incapable of mastering an actual routine? I literally can't remember the last time I cleaned my floors, and I'd really love to clean my floors (especially since the dog just yacked next to my feet, probably from eating all the bits of food Scoops has been throwing at him). But it's not really fair to try to remember something that goes back possibly longer than 2 weeks in time, because I can't even remember what I wore today. If I had the available brain cells to count right now, I'd be able to count on less than one hand the number of times Scoops has slept through the night in the past 2 months. This is especially drastic considering that she started sleeping through the night at 4 months, and seemed to be on a trend toward making that a regular habit. Apparently appropriate to her age (Babycenter? Mom365? Kellymom? I can't remember where I read this tidbit), she is now back to "sleeping like a newborn," which has me feeling constantly exhausted, to put it lightly.

I don't mean to sound like I'm complaining. I'm not complaining. Maybe I am, I don't actually know. I think I'm just putting out there to the mom-verse that I'm having a really weak moment right now. "Right now" here having the meaning of the past hmmmmmm 6 weeks at least. And I'm hoping I'm not alone in this. And I'm hoping that someday I'll get to the other side of this with relative clarity and be able to write about what wonderful, gilded lessons I learned during this time about raising a child. Maybe I'll be able to offer hope to the next troubled mom (or dad). Right now, I'm just wallowing. Or something like that. Right now, I am basking in the glorious imperfections of parenting, and I have to be honest: it doesn't feel much like basking, and it doesn't feel anything close to glorious. If you're here with me, I love you, and I'm sending you all the comforting hugs I wish I could give myself right now. In fact, the least I can do for myself is refuse to believe I'm alone in this. So I won't. I know you're out there, sister-mamas, and I will comfort myself in the knowledge that I'm walking the path of our foremothers, and I'm walking it alongside you. We're in this together. Let's hit the park, or the pool, or shoot, the grocery store, I don't care. But let's get out of the house, sans makeup and in our sweats if we have to, so we can get a breath of (relatively) fresh air and support each other in our journeys.

And now, with a big THANK YOU to my mama friends who've figuratively met me where I'm at, and literally met me at the park and the pool, I bid you all good-night and wish you a restful and restorative evening. I'm going to bed. It is midnight again, after all.

Scoops is 9 Months

I feel like every one of these monthly updates could start with the phrase "I can't believe my sweet Scoops is ___ old already!" Regardless of my faith or disbelief, the baby I birthed is, in fact, 9 months old. As evidenced by the photo, you can see that she is now clearly standing (while holding on to something) without any issue. Often now when I go to rescue her from not napping, I find her standing in her crib, clutching the bars and probably teething on them. No, she still has not popped out any teeth, but she certainly has two coming. I can see the elusive little bastards hovering just below the surface of her bottom gum, coyly taunting us all with their modesty. Come out already, teeth! Give us some peace from all this anticipation! It's been 2 months, for crap's sake!

Her eyes are still blue, and at this point I'm pretty well convinced they're not changing. I'd love it if she got my green eyes, but as I've mentioned before, those baby blues are so captivatingly beautiful that I truly don't care. Her hair is blonde and stick straight, just like mine was as a baby. I'm sure it'll curl when she gets older though. Seems to be inevitable since both her parents rock curls! She is still a tiny little thing, just hanging out in the ol' first percentile. I'm banking on her staying in size 2 diapers until after she turns a year old. I'm not complaining, because she's certainly easier to carry than a lot of babies we know. Plus, we're getting excellent use out of all her 6-month size clothing.

Some fun things Scoops can do now:

• Say "Dada" (finally!)
• Make a silly noise with her lips when we strum them with a finger (Daddy started this, and when I tried it last week Scoops smiled after making the noise and clearly said, "da da!")
• Break landspeed records with her adept crawling skills
• Speed walk while holding someone's hands
• Clap her hands
• Wave hi and bye-bye
• Pull mommy's shirt down for quick-access feeding. Like, whenever/wherever.

She has recently discovered her belly button, and is fascinated by it. She also finds mine intriguing, and seems to be under the impression that it is a third and non-functional nipple (she keeps giving it a try, though!). Fingers are also amazing now. She gets focused on one thing, like another finger, and slowly brings her pointer finger to touch it (if it's near her face she usually goes cross-eyed while doing this). Sometimes she unknowingly plays ET and slowly, deliberately touches the tip of her finger to mine. Lately she's been studying my sadly ragged, unpolished fingernails, too. Fantastic. When she's really excited she squinches her face and smiles so big that her nose wrinkles and her eyes practically close. Sometimes that face is accompanied by a high-pitched squeal. She's starting to find it amusing when we pat her back or tummy while she's making a sustained noise, so that her voice goes all "bouncy" or warble-y. We've been trying to get her to do this trick for months now, but she used to stop every time we starting patting her. Then one day we're driving on an uneven road and bam: she suddenly gets it. She's been sitting on the potty every morning and evening, and sometimes throughout the day, and gets visibly proud of herself when she uses it as intended. I mean she smiles and squeals and claps her hands. I call that pride in one's accomplishments.

A friend just asked me today whether life is easier or harder now that Scoops is 9 months old. It's really a little bit of both. Some things are easier and some are harder. I definitely can't just set her down on my bed and walk away, but she can reach up and grab hold of me when I pick her up. She doesn't generally like to be held "like a baby" in a reclined position anymore, but she holds on pretty securely when I carry her around on my hip. I'm starting to really experience what my mom told me she experienced while raising her babies: each stage brings new joys and milestones, so that the sweetness of watching my baby develop really does outweigh the bitterness of seeing her grow into less of a baby. Seeing her experience life, each little micro-discovery at a time, makes me appreciate the many things I (and most adults I know) have come to take for granted. As Scoops discovers her universe, I feel like I'm rediscovering mine. Every day brings something new and different to experience and enjoy, and I can't imagine a better way to spend my days.

Scoops is 8 Months (and then some)

Scoops turned 8 months old over 2 weeks ago, so I guess it's time for me to write about her 8 month milestones. Can you tell I'm having a hard time figuring out when to write? If only I could get Scoops to poop on a schedule, I could actually schedule in writing time. But enough about my epic procrastination, let's talk about my cute kid.

The day she reached 8 months of age, Scoops figured out real honest-to-God hands-and-knees crawling and how to pull herself up to standing. At the same time. It was bedtime. Which was subsequently delayed by one hour so we could lower the crib mattress, but I'm not complaining. She mastered these excitingly dangerous skills in front of us, while we were taking photos for her 8 months, so we got to actually see them happen, catch them on "film," and prevent a terrible I-just-figured-out-how-to-crawl-out-of-my-crib-in-the-middle-of-the-night accident. If you're thinking to yourself that I should have lowered the crib mattress a long time ago, you're right. I put it off as long as I did because 1) my back is frequently stiff and sore, and I've been afraid that lowering the crib mattress would make it hurt worse (but it hasn't so far), and 2) I had heard or read somewhere that you're supposed to lower the crib mattress when your baby can push herself up to sitting. Scoops did that several days after turning 8 months, so clearly that wasn't a helpful guideline.

Aside from crawling and pulling up to stand, at 8 months Scoops loves to careen around the house in her walker, or while holding onto our hands. She is still the tiniest kid her age we know (first percentile!), but she is strong, both in body and will. On weekend mornings she lays in bed with us and pretends we are her personal jungle gym. She babbles and sings when the mood strikes her, but loves to stare uncomfortably (especially when meeting new people) as if she's reading your soul. Speaking of singing, she is learning to imitate sounds, like when we sing or hum 3 or 4 notes. I'm not saying she can match pitch, but she very obviously attempts to make the same sounds in the same order. She is learning to blow raspberries, and, probably because we've been blowing them on her belly since she was born, is starting to blow them on us, too. This is most amusing when she tries it in the middle of breastfeeding. And speaking of breastfeeding, Scoops is training for the Olympic Breastfeeding Acrobatics team. She has a few poses she hasn't quite mastered yet, but her repertoire includes several impressive inversions, many of which are typically accompanied by humming. Or blowing raspberries.

Her smile is infectious. Her eyes are still a piercing deep blue, with a lighter ring (that looks almost greenish to me) right in the center. Her hair is the thickest it's ever been, but still feathery and sandy blonde. Her hands and fingers look so much bigger to me, and they are always grabbing at my face, especially while she nurses. She is working on her pincer grasp, as well as pointing, and loves to take breaks in the middle of nursing to study (with her pointer finger) the thing that squirts out milk for her. Her expressions are varied and often hilarious, and I can tell she's going to have a humorous, sassy personality. I'm still home with her full time, and immensely grateful for every day I get to spend with her. Even on the hard days (and there are hard days), by the time I put her to bed I realize how much I'll miss her once she's asleep, and how lucky I am to spend my days with her. I wouldn't trade my life for any other.

Scoops' 1st Camping Trip

If you look closely, you can see a sleeping
baby under that rain-soaked jacket!

Another milestone has been met: we recently took Scoops on her very first camping trip! Really, I should call it "glamping" because we were in my late grandparents' old VW Vanagon, and in my mind any kind of camping that doesn't involve the campers setting up a tent is definitely more glamorous. Also, we had panoramic ocean views, so that's pretty bougey. I figured I'd probably lose my mind trying to camp with an infant in a tent, so I was grateful to my uncle (the van's current owner) for loaning the van to us. In the end, it rained most of the time we were camping, and I mean it rained like I wish it would have all winter long, so the van was pretty necessary or we would have bailed before we even got to the camp site. As it was, we spent the majority of the first day, which was the rainiest, sitting in the van watching and listening to the rain fall all around us. 

Following my own terrible advice from my How to Take Your Baby to the Beach post, I pretty much failed to plan ahead for this trip. It was a very last minute decision, and packing up and leaving last minute for anything with an infant is challenging, let alone 2 nights away from home, never mind 2 nights away from home in a camper van. I realized when we arrived and set up camp that I'd forgotten to pack a book to read, or even a deck of cards to keep us amused. Fortunately, I remembered the baby. She was pretty entertaining. We also brought our dog, who was content at least to be with us rather than alone at the house, but wasn't fond of the rain. Or camping in general, from what I could tell. All four of us cuddled close in that relatively small space made me glad, once again, that we have a very small dog. Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that we didn't need to be entertained. We get plenty of mental stimulation when we're at home, so while we were camping it was nice to just sit and be. It was nice to have little choice but to simply sit and be, actually. We listened to the rain, we talked and cuddled with each other, we napped (oh, the naps!), we watched the waves crash on the shore. Oh, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't take advantage of the park's WiFi a little while we were there, but I kept that to a minimum and would have been fine without it, honestly. (I may have been browsing vintage trailers for sale.)

The Pack 'n' Play was necessary for everyone's sleeping (and lounging) contentment.

Surprisingly, Scoops slept great both nights we were there. We set up her pack 'n' play on the floor of the van (after removing the rear-facing passenger seat and stashing it upside-down in the driver's seat), and my husband and I slept on the fold out bed in the back. It would have been fun to use the pop up tent on the roof, but the rain made that pretty impossible. Getting Scoops to fall asleep was our biggest challenge. It was colder at our campsite, even in a solid van, than her nursery usually is, and we still follow the recommended guidelines of no loose blankets in her sleeping area. We layered on two pairs of fleece pajamas and a hat, and that seemed to keep her pretty warm. After the first night though, she woke up with icy cold legs, so the second night I put my own fleece socks over her legs, and wrapped her mattress tightly with a thick, warm cable knit blanket. That did the trick! She was a perfectly normal temperature all over when she woke up the second morning. We also packed our white noise machine, which helped us all sleep better since our camping neighbors were a large and boisterous group of teenage boys (man, do I sound like an old lady). Like I said, getting Scoops to fall asleep was our biggest challenge, but once she was out she slept better than she had been sleeping at home. Actually, so did I and my husband. We slept well at night, and since the rain kept us indoors much of the time, we napped a lot during the day, too. It was so relaxing, and such a great chance to catch up on sleep without the nagging thought of laundry, or cleaning, or housework or whatever was left behind at home.

Now, where did we go? Any guesses? We went to the new Moro Campground at Crystal Cove State Beach. If you have the opportunity to camp here, snatch it up like you'll never see that opportunity again. Despite fervent research efforts, I can't seem to figure out exactly when this campground opened, but I can tell you it's only about a year, maybe 2, old. The bathrooms are pristine. There are single stall enclosed shower rooms, and they're clean. The campsites are immaculate and each one has a stunning ocean view. The entire campground is on tiered loops, so the sites on the bottom tier (Dolphin Circle) have the best views, but really you can't complain about the view from any of these campsites. Keep in mind, when you camp here you're not technically on the beach. You're up on a bluff, across PCH (Pacific Coast Highway) from the beach. To get to the beach, you have to walk down a sizeable hill (paved road) and through a tunnel that runs under PCH. Not too strenuous if you're averagely active. Getting there is easy, it's coming back up the hill that might make you catch your breath. There are beautiful and easy nature trails at the bottom of this same hill, and lots of learning stations that would probably be great at keeping older kids entertained (I enjoyed them). 

Dogs are allowed at this campground... but not much outside the actual camp site!

Keep in mind, if you take your dog with you, he is sadly not allowed on the dirt trails (which we unfortunately didn't realize until we'd walked about half of them... signage at all entrance points would be helpful). Dogs are also not allowed on the beach, and you can't just tie them up and leave them at your campsite. So, if you bring your dog, you'll be pretty much limited to your campsite and any paved roads (which are few). If you don't bring a dog, there are miles of beaches and backcountry trails to explore. You can also walk the historic district and check out the cool old homes (which are available for overnight rental, and many are actually right on the beach!) and dine at The Beachcomber. All of Crystal Cove is really a fun, historic place, and worth checking out even for just a day trip.

In order to make your camping trip the most successful, baby in tow or not, here are the must-have items I forgot to pack (don't make the same mistake!):

1. Soap
Those bathrooms and showers are clean, but they are not equipped with soap. Even if you're not showering, washing your hands with soap is way more effective than just using hand sanitizer the whole time. This should be a total "duh" point, but I haven't camped in a while and bringing soap totally slipped my mind. (No pun intended, I swear.)

2. Towels
See above. 

3. Compressed gas stove
We did not realize until we got there that open fires are not allowed at this park. It makes sense, really. The whole state is dry with this drought we've been stuck in, but this region in particular is always pretty dry. The Vanagon has a stove, yes, but it hasn't been used in years, and we didn't bother to fill up the propane tank before we left because we wanted to enjoy an open fire anyway. Ultimately, we drove down to the local shopping center the first night we were there and picked up tacos from Bear Flag. A great decision, actually, because those tacos are the bomb (oh, I said it). The rest of the time, we relied on dry or cold stuff from the grocery store that we had packed (muffins, hummus and chips, bananas, baby carrots, wrap sandwiches). It worked, but it wasn't ideal. I would have preferred to cook something hot for dinner if we'd had the ability.

And now for the must-have items I actually did think to pack, and that made camping with a baby ever so much easier:

1. Baby
You can't camp with a baby if you don't bring the baby.

2. Diapers
Cloth or disposable, whatever your thing is, bring a crap load of 'em (pun intended). I packed an entire box of size 2's, which is like, 80 friggin' diapers. Did I use them all? No. Was I glad I had them. You bet your ass I was.

3. Wipes
See above.

4. Play Yard
I was not confident in our ability to effectively co-sleep while camping, in a bed space that was not our usual bed, so for me a Pack 'n' Play was extremely necessary. Aside from providing a safe space for Scoops to sleep, it also gave her a safe space to sit, scoot, and play. This was more useful than I even thought it would be. If you're tent camping and don't have room for a play yard, I'm sure it's not actually necessary, especially if you're a co-sleeping pro (or if you have a small portable baby bed like one of those pod things). If you have the space, though, I vote for the Pack 'n' Play.

5. Snacks
It's amazing how much I eat when I'm not at home. Actually, it's amazing how much more I taste my food when I'm not at home.

6. Journal
If you don't journal, now's a good time to start. Sitting in the quiet of nature has a way of inspiring introspection, and journals are a great way to capture the fruits of that introspection. Even if you just use it to note the basic highlights of baby's first camping trip, my guess is you'll be glad you brought the journal.

7. Pillows
And sheets, if you're feeling ambitious. Dressing a full bed (air mattress, sheets, pillows and cases) is something I've been doing on most of my camping trips for the past couple of years (thanks, Sunset Magazine, for inspiring me to be an overachiever). It's one of those things that is so unnecessary, but can make a big difference in your enjoyment of the trip. I highly recommend this tactic to anyone who is not really fond of camping. Just use old sheets, preferably not white ones, that you don't mind getting dirty. Even if you'd prefer the simplicity of a good old fashioned sleeping bag, you'll probably still want a pillow. Bonus: if you're breastfeeding, you can use the pillow to prop baby on your lap during feedings (leave the nursing pillow at home!).

Avoid the drama: pack a teething toy.

8. Baby's favorite toy(s)
Pick 1-3 small toys that your child loves, that are always comforting. You're going to be in a new place, with new smells and sounds, and it might be hard for baby to adjust. Having a few favorite things from home will probably help baby feel more at ease.

9. White noise machine
Similar to the toys, and especially if this is something you use regularly at home, this is one item that will greatly help baby's new environment to feel more familiar. Just make sure you've got backup batteries!

10. Layers of warm clothing
For you and baby. Wherever you are in the US, it probably gets cold at night. At least for a baby. Bring warm layers, and add them as needed. If you don't need them, don't use them, but if you do need them, you (and baby) will be very glad you packed them!

So there you have it. Our first camping trip with a baby was a success, and we're looking forward to trying it again soon. The next adventure will be using a tent instead of a camper van! (And just to be clear, in the photo above, Scoops is crying not because she wasn't enjoying camping, but because she was royally pissed that we wouldn't let her eat the bubble level off the side of her car seat. Gotta have boundaries, mommies.)

Have you camped with an infant? How did it go? What made the trip successful (or not)?

Hell Hath No Fury Like the Stomach Flu

I had all these great posts planned for last week, and then I got my ass behind handed to me by the stomach flu. So now I'm writing about that instead! I swear I've never been sick like that before. It was wretched. My husband, who bore helpless witness to the whole 8 hour projectile ordeal, even said it was like watching me go through labor again. He actually insisted that if I didn't stop throwing up by X time he'd be taking me to the ER. I'll admit, I felt like I was in labor, except there was no cute, squishy newborn at the end of it. (On second thought, maybe I'm ok with that.) The worst of it happened overnight and was quelled by the next morning, but it's taken an entire week for me to feel back to (basically) normal again. It was one of those instances that had me marvelling at the super-human powers of single moms and people who don't have family nearby. I honestly can't imagine having to go through that all on my own, let alone having to take care of Scoops on my own while feeling that way.

I was so terrified my husband was going to catch it and I'd have to take care of him before I felt fully recovered, or, worse, that Scoops would catch it. She still hasn't really been sick yet, and I just don't think I'm prepared to see her caught in the throes of uncontrolled vomiting. Obviously it's probably going to happen at some point, but I'm hoping we can hold off on it until she's older and can support herself over a puke-vessel. Fortunately, I was the only person in my household to contract this round of the heinous virus (or whatever it was). And despite my avid fears of passing my germs to Scoops, I insisted on feeding her myself as soon as the puking had stopped (so that time she woke up around 3 a.m. just as I was getting ready to hurl meant Daddy had bottle duty so I could yak into the trash can in peace). Feeding her, germs and all, turned out to be a great decision, both for the antibodies she received and for the maintenance of my dwindling milk supply.

Bear in mind, my supply has never been remarkable. I know I produce enough to feed Scoops at the tap, because she always behaves full and satisfied, she produces an appropriate amount of wet and dirty diapers, and she's hitting all her developmental milestones on time. But when I pump, I don't get impressive amounts. Sometimes it takes me a few sessions just to get a full bottle's worth of milk. Since I am lucky enough to be home with Scoops full time, this doesn't bother me. I just breastfeed when she's hungry, and try not to worry about the freezer stash. But aside from a direct response to demand, anyone with basic knowledge of the science of breastfeeding will tell you that your supply is dependent upon what goes into your body. In other words, if you're not eating enough healthy calories and drinking enough healthy liquids, your supply will likely not be as robust as it could be. So it stands to reason that an all-nighter spent yaking your guts out and voiding your bowels would not only deplete your body of what it needs to basically function (hence the shakes and an inability to walk to the bathroom unassisted), it'll also cause your milk supply to drop. This was the first time, in over 7 months of breastfeeding, that I experienced a blatantly noticeable decrease in supply, and, boy, did it ever suck. 

I have never felt so depressed, defeated, and humiliated by something that was largely out of my control. For the first time, I saw Scoops trying to eat and clearly not getting enough, visibly frustrated by the lack of milk in my never-before soft and droopy breasts. It was heartbreaking. I cried. And then I stopped, because I didn't have the energy to cry. Since I couldn't cry anymore, I had to be logical. We had enough milk in the freezer for Daddy to bottle feed Scoops and keep her tummy full. I resolved to try to nurse each time Scoops was hungry, and let Daddy top her off with a bottle if she needed more. In order to minimize germ contact, Daddy brought Scoops to me for every feeding, and took her away as soon as she was done. Having to repeatedly wave good-bye to my sweet baby all day was hard on my psyche, but Scoops seemed to handle it fine since she had Daddy to distract her. The first day I couldn't keep down plain water, so I hydrated with frequent small sips of coconut water. I kept increasing my liquids as much as I could, I added in food slowly the next day (starting with broth and working up to solid food), I forced myself to sleep or at least rest in bed when I wasn't trying to eat or drink, and within a couple of days I noticed my breasts filling up again. It was pretty miraculous actually, to see how quickly they started to fill again after how flat and droopy they'd been. Essentially, I focused all my energy and efforts on getting well again, and it worked. I started feeling better, and my breasts filled back up. 

I love feeding Scoops; breastfeeding is a sweet, special bond we have, and I hope and plan to continue feeding her this way for a long time. To have that sweetness interrupted by sickness was a heartbreaking moment in time, and gave me great sympathy for moms who have to permanently stop breastfeeding because of issues outside their control. I can't imagine having the gift of breastfeeding taken away from me. For now, though, my supply has returned and we are back on track with our normal breastfeeding routine. So here's to lots of water, rest, Vitamin C, and staying healthy and milky!

Scoops is 7 Months

Yesterday, Scoops turned 7 months old. It's amazing to me how much she's changed in such a short time. She's barely been on the planet for half a year and I'm already missing her newborn cry and that silly falling reflex. Here's what she's been up to recently:

Sitting up is a piece of cake now, and Scoops will stay seated for many minutes at a time, until she feels like being mobile. She's not quite crawling yet, but she's so darn close, and keeps practicing with lots of scooting, wriggling, spinning on her belly, and grabbing and pulling herself around her crib or the floor (if she can find something sturdy to grab onto). She loves making noise by banging her hands on just about anything, and is very fond of high-fiving mommy's chest while nursing. She's babbling away and has lots to say. She's got "boob" and "mama" down, so we're just working on "daddy" now to make sure all the essentials are covered. Also, mommy swears she hears "I love you" once in a while, but that remains debatable for now. We've started incorporating some French into our vocabulary, particularly when we read Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? Unfortunately, mommy's French sucks, so Scoops will have to make up for that later when she knows what's what. She's getting stronger, and can pull herself up to sitting from a reclined position (not from lying flat on her back, thank goodness, because mommy's not ready to lower the crib yet). From sitting, she can actually pull herself up to standing sometimes. The walker she got for Easter several weeks ago has made her fearless, and she loves to practice taking steps when holding onto someone's hands. We're certainly not trying to encourage her to become an early walker, but we may not have a choice in the matter. Except for one morning when she woke up about 40 minutes early, she slept through the night (10-12 hours) 21 days in a row! Unfortunately, the past 3 nights she has been waking 1, then 2, then 3 times. So tragic. We're blaming it on that elusive first tooth, and hoping it will make its dreaded appearance soon so we can be over it.

We're excited to see what the coming weeks will bring, and look forward to sharing Scoops' development with you!

What are some of your favorite 7 month happenings? Has your baby passed this age? What are some fond memories? If your baby hasn't reached this age yet, what are you looking forward to or worried about?

A Milestone Weekend: My 30th Birthday and 1st Mother's Day

Happy Hump Day! I hope you're having a lovely week, had a lovely weekend, and to all the mothers I wish a belated happy Mother's Day. To those of you who, like me, celebrated your very first Mother's Day, I'm sending a special hug and happy smiles. This Sunday was certainly a joyous occasion, and although nothing incredibly exciting was planned, I thoroughly enjoyed the relaxing, calm day I spent with my little family. We got to visit my own mother, spent several hours at home just enjoying the company of each other on our new deck, and ended the day with a special surprise visit from my mother-in-law. It was really a perfect day, full of love and free of expectations.

Before I celebrated this milestone Mother's Day, though, I celebrated another milestone: my 30th birthday. Up until this point, for the past several years, I have kept my age a closely guarded secret. I didn't do it because I was ashamed of my age, but because I didn't like the idea that people who asked to know it were trying to use that information as a gauge for my status and accomplishments in life. For example, sometimes you'll hear people talk about some prodigy like, "He's only 20 and he's already bought his first house!" Or you'll hear the opposite, as in, "She's already 27 and she hasn't settled down yet." I just didn't like the idea that my age had to define me in any way, so when people asked, I politely declined to answer by smiling and replying, "I'm old enough." (That phrase evolved as the years went on, I should confess, from "old enough to know better.") Sometimes I would get a little ballsy and reply, "I'm almost 30," but I used that phrase long before it was really accurate. In the months leading up to my 30th birthday, however, I began to feel excited as I wondered how I would respond to this question going forward. And I realized something: I was looking forward to turning 30, and I had no problem sharing that information.

A Little Thirty Never Hurt Anybody
In the days just before my birthday, as I was running last minute errands and preparing for a birthday bash, I told every stranger who opened up a conversation about my weekend plans that I would be celebrating my first Mother's Day and turning 30. Everyone seemed duly excited for me, and I basked in the warmth I received. The night before my birthday, I had some friends and family over for a celebration, and had more fun than I've had in a while. (More on that spectacular party later.) So many people congratulated me on turning 30, and for me it really felt appropriate to be congratulated. My family knows I went through some dark times in my 20s, and those who are closest to me know a secret: I never wanted to make it to 30. Before the party started, I sat on the couch with my mom, reflecting on how different my life is now, how truly amazing it is that I'm here, alive, and happy. We shared some tears and some laughs, cuddling the sweet Scoops in my lap and marvelling that there had been a time when I was so incredibly dissatisfied with my life that I wanted it to be over. I feel like a completely different person now. I'm so in love with life, my husband, and my sweet baby. I'm in love with myself. I like who I see when I look in the mirror. I know I'm a good person, and I strive to be good to others. This desire for goodness perpetuates itself, so that the more I want it, the better I become, and the better person I become, the more I want to be a better person.

So this is how I entered my 30s. Rather than feeling terrified of getting older, or lamenting the crinkles forming around my eyes, or mourning the loss of my youth, I felt like I was approaching a rite of passage into adulthood. Probably the fact that my first Mother's Day came along with this milestone birthday helped cement that feeling, but I think I would have felt the same even if they were on separate weekends. The party was a chance for me to dance and be loud and sip champagne, and generally party like a 20-something would. I reveled in the fun and attention from friends and family, and had an appropriately great time. My actual birthday, the following day, was a time of quiet reflection on the strides I've taken towards creating the best life for myself; to calmly enjoy the company of my husband and daughter in the present moment; and to eagerly look forward to the years ahead, which I'm sure will only get better with the unique challenges and rewards they bring. I anticipated my birthday by saying "a little thirty never hurt anybody," and I still feel that way. We can't slow down time, we can't go backwards, and we can't fast forward. We can only be in the present moment. And the present moment is turning out to be exactly where I'm supposed to be, and I love it. My aunt told me that my Terrible Twenties are now behind me, and she's right. I feel like I've really come into myself, full of love and acceptance, and completely comfortable with who and where I am in life.

My 1st Mother's Day
After a full 24+ hours of birthday celebrations, I was ready to celebrate my new status as a mommy. Spending time with my own mom was a great time to hear her recount her experiences raising me, and to celebrate all the joys I encounter daily while raising my own daughter. I felt more firmly on this special day what I felt as soon as Scoops was born, what I knew while I was pregnant with her, and what I sensed even as a child: motherhood is my calling. I was always meant to be a mommy. It seems so cliche, but it's 100% true. Even while I denied it for many years and at one point swore I'd never have kids, a part of me has always known that I was destined to be a mom. Not until my daughter was born did I fully understand that truth. Everything I've read or been told about parenthood is true: it is hard, it is work, and it is by far the most enjoyable job on the planet. I wouldn't trade this for the world. I never thought I'd be so content to be woken at ungodly hours, to listen to annoying cries, or to clean up so many scoops of poops. This little girl means everything to me, and I can't imagine life without her. 

A few months before I got pregnant, a colleague did a card reading for me, just for fun, and the cards she pulled, from two different decks, both indicated major change was just around the corner. They both discussed a coming of age event, a rite of passage, a transition to full adulthood. I cried as she read the cards to me, because I had been struggling with knowing whether it was the right time for my husband and I to start to grow our family. I wasn't sure I was ready to really grow up, become responsible for another person, and leave my adolescence decidedly behind me. This felt like a solid omen, and about a month later I had a very clear experience telling me to start trying in January. We did, and the rest is history. Ironically, I ran into that colleague this Mother's Day while I was out with my husband and daughter. She was delighted to meet Scoops, we briefly caught up, and then she was on her way. I find it incredibly poignant that I saw her on my first Mother's Day, when I haven't seen her in several months. It's almost like the universe was confirming that everything is going exactly according to the master plan.

As a kid, I always found it annoying that my birthday fell on or around Mother's Day. I didn't like having to share my birthday with another holiday (or my mom), and my friends often couldn't attend my parties if they were spending the weekend away with their mothers. When I realized my 30th birthday would fall adjacent to my first Mother's Day, though, it seemed fitting. Turning 30 and becoming a mother are both excellent times to make the transition to full adulthood. And of course I was born around Mother's Day. I was always meant to be a mother. 

New Pallet Deck and New Friends

Last week I shared that we were putting in a deck made of pallet boards to fill in a dirt patch in our backyard. You may recall the "before" image:

This week I am thrilled to share that the pallet deck is finished! It took about 2 weeks and many hours of manpower, but it is finally built, sealed, and ready to party. Observe:

I keep looking out at it and smiling. I'm just so pleased with the way my yard looks now! I can't wait to have friends over to help christen the deck, and I'm looking forward to hosting many parties this summer in our newly decked out space (pun intended). 

The building process, as I mentioned last week, was a learning experience for everyone involved. Once the boards were all laid though, I have to say I got a little misty eyed when I looked out back this past weekend to see two neighbors and a close friend joking, laughing, and working alongside my husband to seal the deck and our patio furniture. I remember reading when I was a kid about barn raising, and how all the neighbors would come together to help one family build their new barn. It felt like that. These are the people we share a driveway with, and it was great to realize just how much we've built up our friendships with them since we moved into this place almost 2 years ago. I don't think in my adult life I've ever become friends with my neighbors. At best I've counted them as acquaintances, and at worst I've found them annoying or intrusive and done my best to avoid them. This small-town style community we've become a part of feels like such a rare treasure, especially in an area that's not actually a small town, and I'm so grateful we found this place and have made it our home.

Now, when I say we're friends with our neighbors, I don't mean we're BFF's with all of them, and I don't mean that we moved in and had instant friends the next day. I can't pinpoint exactly when the friendships began to blossom, but I know it was a process. The best thing I did, personally, was open myself up to the possibility of friendship with the people around me. I think of the two kinds of neighbors I mentioned above, I've become most accustomed to the latter, and therefore had a bad taste in my mouth for forging friendly relations with the people who were geographically closest to me (I mean, hey, if they're crazy and suddenly think you're friends, it's kinda hard to steer clear of them when they know where you live). I know I've had a reputation in this neighborhood for being rather anti-social. Actually, I still have a reputation for being somewhat of a party pooper, but I also have the youngest child in the neighborhood, so I'm not feeling real apologetic for asking people to be quiet when they're having a block party under the nursery window. (You know who you are. ;-) The point is, I created that reputation for myself, and then I had to challenge it myself. I had to decide I wasn't going to be anti-social, that I was going to assume my neighbors weren't obnoxious psychopaths and actually give us an opportunity to become not just pleasant acquaintances, but friends. Once I was willing to challenge the negative lessons of my past experiences, I found I had several friends waiting for me. 

So challenging myself and my paradigms turned out to be a very good thing in this case. And now, I challenge you to challenge yourself. Reach out to a neighbor and just be open to possibility. See what happens. I'm not saying force a friendship with someone who doesn't want it, and if you get a bad vibe from the person you probably want to listen to your instinct. But if there's someone nearby you've been thinking seems like a decent human being, maybe strike up an actual conversation with them, you know, beyond the usual mindless BS about the weather and whatnot. Who knows? You may get a new friend out of the deal.