Stop the Clock!

I know I've said this a million times, but I just have to note it once again: my little girl is growing up WAY TOO FAST!!!

This past weekend we took the drop rail off Dear Daughter's crib and added the little rails to convert it to a toddler bed. The main reason to push ahead with this is that I would like a slow, stress-free, transition for her to a "big girl" bed before Dear Son needs the crib. I expected that Dear Daughter would be thrilled by the concept that she can crawl in and out of her bed now at will. However, she has not tried to get up once. She slept just like before, and we've had no problems for several days. I believe she likes being covered up and tucked in with her blankie so much that she doesn't dare get up and find herself unable to tuck herself back in. When Dear Daughter figures out how to tuck herself back in, we may find ourselves in the battle of having a two year old getting up out of bed frequently. For now...things are great.

We bought Dear Daughter new bedroom furniture this weekend. A twin size bed, 5 drawer dresser, and 2 shelf bookcase. It's not "real" furniture. It came in boxes from the O'Sullivan outlet, and we have to put it all together. Pressboard with a faux wood laminate. But you can't beat the bargain we got. Dear Daughter looked so tiny next to the big twin bed in the store. I think it's going to break my heart the first night I tuck her in it. It will be a while, though. Dear Husband's to-do list is plenty long with furniture assembly being low on the priority list right now. We will be lucky to have 10 more weeks before Dear Son comes along and rules our lives with his countless newborn needs. I'm only banking on about 8 weeks before he arrives. As much as I am tired of the whole beached whale scene, 8 weeks is just not enough time. Not enough time to finish the necessary preparations for the new wee one, not enough time for the mother-daughter time I relish with Dear Daughter that will soon be infringed upon, and not enough time before sleepless nights return and the other stuff that goes along with newborn maintenance. Not to mention the impending gloomy feeling I have that life will again never be the same. I was just getting adjusted to the first round of life never being the same since Dear Daughter entered the picture. I keep wondering when the "excited" stage is supposed to happen and try not to feel guilty that I'm not there. It's not that this baby is unwanted. We always planned to have two children. In that sense, this is the fulfillment of our dreams and goals for our family. But something so rewarding as having your own children is also so difficult and stressful and most of all LIFE-CHANGING!

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Yesterday was Dear Daughter's day to go to Grandpa and Grandma's while I go to work for 10 hours. When she woke up we did the usual routine of talking about going to see Grandpa and Grandma and picking out what to wear, then having some breakfast before packing up and heading out the door. Dear Daughter missed her visit last week since Grandpa and Grandma were out of town visiting Dear Daughter's two Great Grandmothers. Dear Daughter was more than ready to go see Grandpa and Grandma after two long weeks. Dear Daughter sat quietly eating her breakfast for several minutes when all of a sudden she announced, "I better get going!" and she tried to climb down out of her booster chair. I said, "Well where do you need to go?" and Dear Daughter responded, "I better get going to see Grandma!" She changed her mind as I was preparing to clear away her breakfast, and decided she wasn't done eating. She finished up quickly and as soon as I got her out of her chair she said, "Oh! I better get my hat!" She was eager and waiting to get going with her hat in place on her head while I cleaned up breakfast as quickly as possible and gathered all the gear for her day with Grandpa and Grandma and my day at work, and then managed to convince her to brush her teeth before we were off.

When did my tiny baby girl transform into a toddler, and how is it possible that my toddler is so quickly transforming into a little girl who has such complex reasoning ability and conversational skills? I don't want my little girl to grow up! I tell her often she is growing like a weed, and the other day she informed me, "You are growing like a weed, Mommy!" Unfortunately, she is also correct. I will post a new Zachary belly picture soon.

Ranting

Last Friday I took Zoe to the park. It's been awhile since we've gone because it has been soooooo hot and I just cannot tolerate it. I swear I've been chronically hot since April of 2003 when I was pregnant with Zoe. I guess it's one of the side effects of raging hormones. I joke that by the time all the pregnancy hormones leave my body (which can take quite some time), I will be entering menopause. So I may as well just accept the fact that I will be hot from now until Kingdom Come. I'm praying that the climate in Heaven will be akin to Siberia. Perhaps if I be really really good in this life God will grant me my very own iceberg on which to perch for the rest of eternity. I had hoped that having a winter baby would mean I would have the final months of this pregnancy during cooler weather. It's now October and still nearly 90 degrees outside most days. And muggier than the atmosphere of a sauna packed with a dozen fat, sweaty men (not that I've ever been in a sauna packed with a dozen fat, sweaty men...but I think it would be similar).

With my belly growing larger by the day now, hot nights make sleeping even more uncomfortable. I am a back sleeper, which I'm not allowed to do while pregnant. So I flop from side to side all night long, which is no easy feat with my current mammoth size. "Side flopping" requires that I muster a good deal of strength and momentum in order to hoist my body up and then oomph it over in a sort of flipping flopping motion. As soon as I achieve this task, I usually notice that it's time for my hourly bladder emptying. So then I must hoist myself up into a sort of rolling sitting position to oomph myself out of bed altogether and travel the well worn path in the carpet to the nearest toilet. Add to this the hot, sticky weather and all the flipping, flopping, hoisting, and oomphing become even more uncomfortable.

I had one of my "hot fits" the other night after flipping, flopping, and oomphing for a couple hours in bed. Sleep being the never-ending goal that is always just out of my reach. I had already made the trek downstairs to bump down the thermostat a few extra degrees. I think I've worn another path in the carpet between the bedroom and the thermostat. My poor husband, unable to sleep himself with all the commotion of trying to share his bed with a sweaty beached whale, got up and took his own trip to the bathroom. I'm not sure that was his intentional destination or if the grooves in the carpet just sort of forced him to go that way. Nevertheless, during the time he was gone I believe a thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth fat, sweaty man entered the sauna. I begged Dear Husband to go downstairs and turn down the thermostat yet again. I assured him it didn't matter that he wasn't fully awake, and he needent turn on any lights...just follow the well traveled carpet path and it would lead him there. Either that, or he would find himself at the toilet again, in which case would he please empty my bladder again for me. Then I had some sort of verbal catharsis that conveyed something to the effect of "@#$#@!!! it! I am so #$#$#@#@! hot! I don't care if we have to set that #$!@#$ thermostat on FRIGID, and I don't care if the #@#$!@ electric bill is $500 this month, I can't take this @#!#$%@ heat anymore!!!!!!" I'm not sure what Dear Husband set the thermostat to that night, but apparently the temperature finally met my approval because I finally fell asleep for a couple blissful hours and didn't wake up in a pool of sweat on my next trip to the bathroom.

I have digressed dramatically. I was beginnng to share about my trip to the park with Zoe last Friday. The weather had a rare break and a high of 72 degrees just barely qualified it to be cool enough for me to leave the house. So I took advantage of the time to get Dear Daughter out in some fresh air to run and play. A grandmother was there with her grandson, and she was sitting near the play equipment watching. Zoe was having all kinds of fun crawling through the tubes and climbing the stairs and going down the slides. But each time she wanted to pass by the grandmother, she got really shy and would cling to me. At one point she gave the grandmother a cautious look and turned toward me, and buried her face in my shoulder and said, "I'm feeling kinda nervous, Mommy." I laughed out loud, racking my brain for a clue as to where she picked up a word like "nervous" and amazed that yet again she used a complex word completely appropriately in her own context as if she completely understands what the word means.

Progress

Since I started this already, I figured I'd better continue--though I may regret it later. This is a 26 week photo, which is actually two weeks old now. We had a second ultrasound last week to verify some things the first one didn't show clearly. Everything looked great, and there is absolutely no doubt that this one is a boy. Even an untrained eye could see the boyhood evidence glaring like a neon sign.

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Zoe's vocabulary and conversational speech continues to grow rapidly, and I am certain she is growing sweeter by the day. The other night I was reading to her and rocking with her before bed. I had to sit up straighter in the chair because I was having trouble breathing with both Zachary and Zoe pressing against my lungs. Zoe appeared a bit concerned and said, "Mommy, are you okay? Do you need a kiss?" After planting a big juicy kiss on my lips she said, "Does that feel better?"

She is also doing great with the "please" and "thank you"'s and has come up with "no, thank you" as well. I did not intentionally teach her that one. One day I asked her if she wanted cottage cheese or applesauce with her lunch. Her reply was "No, thank you." I was really expecting an either/or decision and was caught off guard by her reply.

She also seems to have grown past the fits she was having a couple months ago whenever she got frustrated. Now she calmly asks, "Mommy, would you help with that (fill in the blank)."

The next stage will be transitioning her to a toddler bed. We haven't decided quite when to go ahead with that, but I figured we start by converting the crib and then introduce her to a regular twin bed. I want the bed introduced before Zachary is born so that Zoe doesn't feel pushed out of her territory. I'm also in no hurry to mess with something that is working. She sleeps through the night so well that I hate to throw in something new. Have I mentioned that she is growing up way too fast?

My Little Philosopher

I seem to have a very philosophical 25 month old daughter. On the way to Grandma's house yesterday morning we did the usual routine of pointing out all the cows and horses along the way. I pointed out some cows and then a couple minutes later Zoe pointed out some horses. Here was her full narrative:
"Look! There's some cows!" (pause) "Actually, those are horses, I think." (pause) "Horses are kinda like cows, I guess."

First Haircut

Zoe got her first haircut on Friday. Here is a picture before.... I was beginning to adore those little curls that would fan out from behind her ears....

Here's a picture of Zoe getting her haircut. She had fun getting sprayed by the water bottle and blown dry with the hair dryer.



Here's a picture after. Unfortunately, in order to even out the scraggly stuff, we had to part with the precious little curls...for now.


And this is Zoe's "rockstar" pose that I just had to throw in!

Charming

That's the only single word I can think of to describe the wee one these days. I guess it's a combination of her growing vocabulary and blossoming personality.

Zoe's new Cooshie Booster chair came in the mail finally, and she loves it. She likes to sit at the table sometimes and on the stools at the counter bar sometimes. The other day she was sitting at the table in her new booster chair eating dinner and decided she was done and ready to get down long before her Daddy and I had had enough time to finish our own dinners. So I said something like, "You're ready to get down already? I guess that means you don't want any ice cream then, huh?" Her little face lit up, her eyes got big, a grin spread across her entire face, and she exclaimed, "Oh yes!" Then she settled herself squarely back in her seat and agreed to eat two more bites of pears and wait patiently a few more minutes before it was time for ice cream. As soon as she realized I was ready to get out the ice cream, she began handing me her plate and silverware to clear room for the "good stuff." Then she sat perfectly still and patient (except for the dangling feet that were swinging in anticipation) and clasped her little hands together in front of her as she waited. It was beyond endearing.

She has also begun to repeat little phrases that her Daddy and I have said to her for months. Remember how I said she absorbs everything and then when you least expect it she pulls something out and throws it on you? She was sitting at the counter bar the other day and had finished her lunch and was waiting patiently while I fininshed a phone call. There she sat drumming her little fingers on the counter and then she looked up at me and grinned and said, "What do ya think, Puddle Muff, Momma?" Puddle Muff is one of the silly little pet names we've called her for months, and "What do ya think, Puddle Muff?" is a phrase I'm sure I've said to her countless times. This is the first time I've heard her say it back, and I was amused that she turned it around on me.

Last night was Daddy's night to watch her alone while I was at work. He was charmed by her mannerisms and vocabulary when she approached him two different times, once to ask, "Have you seen my keys, Daddy?" and once to ask, "Do you know where my mail is, Daddy?"

Several months ago I wrote a long dialogue about how great it is to be a Mommy and the seemingly endless string of moments of thinking, "It just can't get any better than this!" Every day I hug and kiss my daughter hundrends of times and recognize that my list of those moments continues to grow longer. It's bittersweet at times, as I also realize how fast she is growing up. I often linger with my hugs, holding her close as long as she will allow, trying desperately to burn the moments deeply into my soul where I pray they will live long beyond the days when all the little girl "lasts" have gone, so that I can somehow hang onto her forever and in some sense of the term...never have to let her go.

More "Zoe-isms"

Yes, this is my charming daughter insisting on wearing a stocking cap in spite of the fact that it was August and 95 degrees outside.

In other Zoe news, she continues to charm, amuse, and amaze those around her with her vocabulary and conversational skills. Grandma H was thoroughly tickled the other day when she gave in to Zoe's pleading to play outside in spite of the weather still being hot, though not as hot as it has been in the past weeks. Once they had made it outside, she said to Grandma, "It feels cooler out here today, don't you think?" These kinds of statements tend to catch everyone around her off guard and unsure of whether to simply respond in equally "mature" conversational style, or laugh out loud then give her a big squeeze and lots of kisses in an impulsive response to being thoroughly charmed. I tend to do the latter first, and then respond in equally "mature"conversation. Or sometimes I just exclaim, "Where in the world did you get THAT?" Which is exactly how I responded a couple days ago when Zoe put her little hand to her chest and said, "This is me," and then gestured toward me and said, "and this is my sister, Mommy." HUH? I really do not know where she gets most of the stuff she comes up with.

A couple mornings ago, Zoe was busy drawing a picture and I asked her if she was being a little artist. She did not respond or even acknowledge what I said. Nevertheless, this comment of mine made its way into her little mind and went dormant until several hours later when she was coloring another picture following her afternoon nap. As she busily colored she nonchalantly remarked, "I'm being an artist."

She's a sponge of latent learning that registers everything around her and discreetly files it for later usage. Then, when you least expect it, she pops out with something, expressing it in full sentence format, and entirely grammatically correct. I swear that her vocabulary and grammar easily exceed that of a great deal of the adult population.