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...
