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!
