letters to anna

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2010-07-22T17:17:00.002-04:00

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Month 22

2010-07-22T16:31:00.000-04:00

Dear Anna,
Remember how, months and months ago, I wrote about mommy guilt? And then I wrote again later that I no longer struggle with it, because I just need to do the best that I can? Well, I think that mommy guilt is back and is rearing its ugly head.

Really, I blame it on myself. I share anecdotes about you then get worked up when people try to give me parenting advice. Speaking of which, there are very few things that get me more riled up than unsolicited parenting advice from smug parents. I am sure I give it without thinking, too, and for that, I APOLOGIZE TO THE WORLD.

It's been a hard month. You have lots of opinions. Even when you don't know what they are, you have them. You are stubborn. You often disobey. You whine. A LOT. Your good friend went through a lot of these things and has emerged from the other side a very pleasant little girl. I only hope that means this is just a phase.

It hit me today that I don't question my parenting when things are going fine, which is probably the majority of the time. When you are behaving and being pleasant and cute and taking you out to eat is no problem, I think I'm a pretty okay parent. When you are grabbing toys away from others, writhing away from us as we try to buckle you into your car seat, refusing to say goodbye to people, I think I must be doing something wrong.

I notice it with others, too: when a friend's child is being particular cranky, the parent exudes humility and makes comments like, "I guess you just have to do your best." When their kid is the well-behaved one, the tone switches to one of bright encouragement, "We really find that __________ helps a lot."
Am I sounding a little cranky? Sorry. When you get cranky I make you take a nap. I think I might need a nap, too.

Despite the challenges this month, we've had lots of great times. You are moving to the stage where I need to be better about writing down funny things you say. Today:
You: Now draw Mommy!
Me: Okay.
(I draw myself, trying to be as accurate as I can on the Magna Doodle by giving myself slightly slanted eyes.)
Anna: ... No, draw Mommy AWAKE!

Our downstairs neighbor is traveling for a month and sub-letted his apartment to a family from Spain. They have three little kids. I met these kids when I emerged from my bedroom one morning to find three children standing in the living room, looking around with wide eyes. They are just learning English and are ridiculously cute in their matching dresses (shorts for the little boy). They love to play with you. We ran into them at Barnes and Noble one night and one of the kids wanted you to have a teddy bear she won at a fair. The next day, you looked out the window and saw the kids playing in the backyard and got really excited. "Hi! Hi!" you yelled. Then you ran around the house, found the new teddy bear, and held it up against the window. I think that was your way of saying thank you.

We haven't gone to the park as much as we did before because it has been so darn hot. Instead, you go swimming either in your borrowed whale pool, at Spring Creek Park, or at Whipple Dam. We also took our first family camping trip. You are absolutely unafraid of the water. We think we need to teach you how to swim, for safety reasons and also so you can grow up to be a lot less lame than your mom, who can barely doggy paddle.

We've been going house hunting lately. It's strange to not only have to look at houses with you in mind but also consider the fact that we just MIGHT have another kid in the time that we'll be living there. I wonder what kind of big sister you'll be. Mostly you love people, but you get along with grown-ups better than other children (having a sibling will fix that, as will daycare). You are fascinated with babies but definitely like your space. You like to be the initiator of physical contact and don't like being crowded, but are much more animated when others are around. As I mentioned in last months' letter, it takes you a while to warm up to someone, but once you do, you're best friends. You've been clingier lately. "Mommy come too?" is a phrase I hear multiple times a day. For the first time, you've shown a bit of jealousy when I am holding another baby.

You're definitely learning a lot. You're still picking up more signs even though you don't use them very often. You can count higher than two (just barely): "one, two, three, EIGHT!" or "one, two, three, W!" You know some of your colours some of the time. You pick up new ideas faster than we anticipate. (Seeing a picture of both a cupcake and a regular cake, you pointed to the cupcake and said, "Happy Birthday!" You remembered that Gloria had cupcakes for her birthday.)

You're still a good eater but have gotten pickier. You like (delicious) things like garlic, olives, and fish but pick around some vegetables. Your favourite food is still dairy in any form: cheese, yogurt, cottage cheese, milk, etc.

The grossest milestone you've hit: you constantly put your hand in your diaper while napping and have woken up with poopy hands several times. Most of the time you will wake up saying, "Gross. Wash hands?" but other times it is more of a surprise. Today you woke up from your nap with a poopy diaper, which I promptly changed. It wasn't until I realized you STILL smelled that I saw smears of poop on your onesie and then on your bed... on Bun Bun... and on Bear. Thankfully no smears on the wall yet. I credit the fact that this is my 22nd month of parenting that I can say all of this without really being all that bothered. Poop everywhere? More of an inconvenience than anything else.

You're napping right now and will probably stay asleep for another half hour, so I am going to wrap this up so I can jump in the shower. Yes, it is 4:28 PM, and I am only just getting a shower. I'm including that little tidbit so years later, when you and I read these letters, we can remember how things really were. And you'll know just how much Mommy loved you and how fun/frustrating/exciting/exhausting/challenging/rewarding these first years really were.

Love,
Mom

21 Months

2010-06-10T11:17:00.012-04:00

Dear Anna,

The very first thing you did today upon waking up was cuddle up next to me and ask for a story. We read four stories back to back. In between books, you looked like you were going to burst with happiness. Instead, you just snuggled in closer and asked for a hug and a kiss. Best way to start the day, hands down.

Not half an hour later, you asked for yogurt for breakfast. I don't know what happened in the three minutes it took for me to strap you in your seat and serve you breakfast, but you lost it. You screamed and flailed and tried to push away your tray, only to pull it back towards you when I tried to help you get out of your seat. You pushed away your breakfast and just cried and cried. I sat with you while you screamed and then walked over to the bedroom for a minute to change my clothes and give us both some space.

When you finally calmed down enough to have breakfast, you ate your entire bowl of granola and then asked for seconds. Then thirds.

I told a friend the other day that part of what makes parenting such a challenge is that JUST when you think that you have your kid figured out and know exactly the right way to parent him/her, they up and CHANGE.

Change is good, though. We are definitely a family that welcomes change.

One of the biggest changes we've seen recently is your ability to reason. Yesterday, you put some of your bristle blocks (I had to look that up. I was going to call them "press-together blocks") together and, waving it in the air, ran to me yelling "AIRPLANE!" I asked you what sound an airplane makes (partly because I couldn't think of how to reproduce an airplane sound, myself). You paused for a moment, then opened your mouth wide. "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" you yelled as you swooped the airplane around my head. Then you ran to your Daddy's study to show him, too.

Your new favourite word is "yeah!" You say "yeah" most enthusiastically when you are trying to communicate something for a while and I finally get it. "Shu shu? Shu shu please?" you'll ask. "You want lotion?" I guess. "YEAH!" You always nod your head vigorously and give me a giant smile. Your "yeah" is super cute but before that, you used to say "hi!" in a very Japanese-like way instead of "yes." "Want some lotion, Anna?" "Hi!" That was super cute, too.

We went out to eat at The Deli with Bop and Grammy for Mother's Day and midway through the meal, you started fidgeting and wiggling around in your seat. You turned to me and tried to tell me something. I didn't get it, busy as I was eating my chimichanga. Finally, exasperated, you grabbed my napkin, stood up in your high chair, and wiped the seat of your pants. "DIRTY," you spelled out. And yep, you had a poopy diaper.

Your dad and I like to talk every once in a while about what we observe in your developing personality. (It helps that I have been doing the SHAPE workshop at church and am constantly thinking in terms of DISC and Myers-Briggs.) We noted that you are brave but deliberate. You WILL go down two flights of steps IN MY SHOES (not my proudest parenting moment) but will take each step very carefully. You will go down the slide backwards, but only after getting yourself in JUST the right position. You are like this when it comes to being social, too. We will walk into a room full of strangers and you will spend the first fifteen minutes with your arms around my legs (or my neck), sizing up the situation. Then you'll spend the next two hours circulating the room, eating off everyone's plates.

You have a stubborn streak (you are a Brion, after all). When you disobey and I ask you to say "sorry," you will stare me down, expressionless. These are the moments that test my patience and also make me glad that we have taught you how to sign, since I can't force you to SAY "sorry" but I can certainly make you sign it.

We recorded you going down for a nap a couple of weeks ago and edited it so it is 10x the actual speed. The video is hilarious, because it showed that you were ALL over the place, clearly not tired, entertaining yourself with your stuffed moose and playing with your belly button. Your Lola didn't like the video, as she felt sorry for you, in your crib, by yourself for forty-five minutes, but one thing we HAVE realized about you is that, social as you are, you really need down-time once in a while. When you are being disobedient, acting up, abnormally fussy, we know that either a nap or some time by yourself in your crib really helps. Luka was that way, too. So am I. And so is your dad.

You love sensation. I brought you and Gloria outside to play with the hose and a bucket of water on one of those sticky days last month. You kept asking me to spray the water in the air so that the water would hit your face. When we run to the car in the rain, you gleefully shout, "RAIN! RAIN!" and tip your head up, all the better to get wet. You loved winter, too, and would pretend to shiver when we stepped out of the house, signing and saying "COLD!" with a giant smile on your face. You are a windows-down kind of girl.

You also like to explore. We were visiting a friend months ago and you disappeared. I jumped up, worried that you were getting into trouble, and our host assured me that there's nothing you could get into that her older son hasn't already tried. She was wrong. You showed the son how to stick your hand in the toilet, how to manipulate the dishwasher controls, how to play with the pedals on the piano, how to empty the dehumidifier. We stopped you before you tried to show him how to turn on the stove. Our friend was taken aback but very good-natured, thankfully. We think that maybe you will be an adventurous child.

Your friend Gloria is communicative enough to be at the point where she can seriously embarrass her parents if she wants to. You're getting there. The other day, I raised my arms to stretch and you pointed to my armpits and said, "gross!" (I did not appreciate that.) Later, when changing your poopy diaper, I asked you not to touch your bum because it was dirty. You said "Dirty? Olivia dirty!" You had heard us talking to our friend Olivia about what a clean child you are (always insisting on washing your hands, washing Sylvia, brushing your teeth), and Olivia joked, "Anna! You are so much cleaner than me! I don't even like to take baths!" and Anna decided, then and there, that Olivia is dirty. (Thankfully, Olivia is a good sport and thinks this is funny.)

Earlier this year, my friend Aimee was killed in a car accident. It hurts to type that. I think about her a lot. Every few days, the shock that she is not coming back still hits me so hard that I have to catch my breath. Your dad and I sat down the other day to talk about what to write in our wills, whom to choose as your guardians if something happened to us. That was one of the hardest decisions we've had to make. We joked about how trying to decide which friends are "good enough" to be your guardians invites us to be more critical of our friends than we've ever had to be. We decided on your Uncle Mike and Aunt Tegan, not just because we love them and think they will be wonderful parents, but because we know that they 1) value family and would raise you to know and love your relatives and 2) will love you as their own, evidenced by their desire to adopt. Most importantly, we know that they will raise you to seek God in a very real way. We hope and pray that you will never NEED guardians, that we will be around to see your children, to see you as an adult. But having to think through this decision makes me all the more aware of the importance of making each day count. Of our responsibility to raise you to live life fully. And even more so, of raising you to live with one eye on eternity. Of raising you to know that this life is not the end all, be all. Of raising you to be a woman like my dear friend Aimee, who lived life so well that her death couldn't help but bring more of an awareness of life and God and love to everyone around her.

I hope it's okay that I'm ending this month's letter on this note. You are a gift, Anna. Every day with you is a gift. Now please wake up from your nap so we can play.

Love,
Your mom

20 months

2010-05-03T10:38:00.006-04:00

Dear Anna,

Due to my negligence, we will never know what transpired between your 16th and 20th months of life.

Sorry. (Really.)

You love, love, love being outside. Bop brought you a sandbox and a cousin gave you a slide. We now go out to the backyard at least twice a day, and to the park almost every day. Some days you are halfway to the park in the time it takes me to grab the mail from the mailbox. These are usually also the days when you climb to the top of the biiiiig slide and go down with no hesitation. The wussy three-year-olds watch you with admiration. Other days, you are all but glued to my leg and it takes a lot of coaxing to even get you to walk up the steps TO the slide.

You are learning new things at a rate that astounds us. I can identify an unfamiliar object for you and chances are, you'll remember it with just a little reinforcement. You are, however, stubbornly refusing to learn how to count. You know one number: TWO. As we're walking down the steps, I will count, "one, two, THREE!" And you will say, "two, two, TWO!" The other night, you got into something you know is off-limits and your daddy said, "ANNA! How many times has your mother told you not to touch that?" You promptly replied, "TWO!"

Let me talk about what you are like now, though.

You named your pacifier Sylvia. Several months ago, when Jim and Pam were about to have their baby, I decided that I wanted to name my future daughter Sylvia and was fervently hoping that Jim and Pam would break Michael's promise to name their kid after the grandmother. (Yes, I really am talking about people from TV.) We were asking you to say other names we considered for you and will probably consider for a future sibling, and you were failing terribly at even the easiest names (your version of Lucy? Shushu.) When I asked you to say Sylvia, however, you said, clear as a bell: "SIL-bee-ah!" You loved that name so much that you repeated it over and over for the next couple of days. Before we knew it, you had named your pacifier Sylvia, or Sibi for short. Cute. Thanks for stealing my name, though.

You still see your friend Gloria several times a week. You love Gloria and Gloria's mom. Gloria's a bit older than you and you like to copy her. Whenever Gloria is over with her green blanket, you insist that you need a "bah," too. Gloria has at least ten pounds on you. One day, you two were playing a couple of feet behind me while I was checking my e-mail. You started whimpering and then Gloria yelled, "Horsey!" I turned around to find Gloria sitting on your back. You were pinned to the ground, face smashed against the carpet. A couple of weeks later you guys played horsey again, except Gloria was the horsey. I think that worked a little bit better.

You enjoyed Easter this year. Gloria's family came up with us to Bop and Grammy's house. Grammy hid some plastic eggs with an M&M inside each one. When you and Gloria discovered the M&M's, you started frantically picking up eggs, shaking them, and throwing down the ones that didn't rattle. You two got a little carried away and ate waaay too much chocolate.

We finally got a bike seat for you. We ended up having to buy a center-mounted seat because the rack attachment on my bike is not standard. You LOVE the bike and especially love the view from the front (it sure beats the view from the bike trailer). You love nothing more than to ring the bell as we ride through the neighborhood. This town is full of hills so it is definitely good exercise for me. We've taken to riding to the edge of campus at quitting time every day to meet your daddy. You get so excited when you see him crossing the street towards us.

A couple of weeks ago, your daddy and I went away for an overnight trip to Pittsburgh. We visited the Carnegie Museum and brought back a dinosaur tattoo for you. When we first put it on your arm, you acted very frightened and didn't want to look at it. I felt so bad because those temporary tattoos stay on for several days! We put a sweater on you to cover up the tattoo. After a while, you got used to it, and then the little dinosaur became your friend. You would "pet" the dinosaur and would offer him food and water. Someday we'll get you a real pet, I promise.

You've been obsessed with shoes for months now, much to the amusement of your great-Lola (also a shoe-lover). Sometimes I am tempted to call you Imelda. Your favourite shoes are your pink polka-dotted rain boots. You will wear these rain or shine and will often disappear, only to return with them on. (More than 50% of the time, they are on the wrong feet. Go figure.)

You are still a terrific eater. When we were visiting NJ, your great aunt and uncle took us to an all-you-can-eat sushi/seafood restaurant. You ate no less than a dozen clams and countless pieces of sushi and sashimi. (Someone later told me that kids under 2 shouldn't eat shellfish. Thankfully, you were fine.) You ate so much, we felt a little bit guilty that you got to eat for free. Not four hours later, we attended a party at a Chinese restaurant. You tried something from almost all ten courses. We were getting worried because you just kept eating and eating, and sure enough, you had a stomach ache later that night.

You are still a tiny little thing, though, relative to others your age. Aside from just liking food a lot, I think you eat a lot because you are so ridiculously active. At the restaurant, you climbed up and down your high chair dozens of times in a row. You constantly run at full speed around our house. As I mentioned earlier, you love nothing more than to be outside, running, sliding, swinging.

Even though you are still at the 25th percentile for weight, you are growing well. Our friend came over to visit with her one-month-old baby and it was apparent that you are no longer a baby. You're a little girl. You woke up this morning and immediately asked for me. As you snuggled beside me in bed, your daddy sighed and said, "She's not so little anymore."

You were never the most cuddly baby, always wanting to be moving, but now that you are older, you love to cuddle with me. When we bring you into bed with us to calm you down on those occasional nights when you wake up crying, it is not enough for you to be beside me. You want to be completely on top of me. As uncomfortable as this is, there will come a day when you will not automatically run to me when you are upset. So I will soak up these moments and hold you as much as I can.

I love you, my daugher.

Mom

Fifteen and a half months, or somewhere close

2010-01-05T14:13:00.012-05:00

Dear Anna,

I had been noticing the past couple of weeks that your bangs have gotten really long. Since you always manage to remove, in a matter of seconds, whatever barrette or hair clip we fasten to your hair, your dad and I decided that it might be time for your first haircut/trim.

We came to this conclusion while you were sitting in your booster seat, having dinner, and (so characteristically of me), I decided to seize the moment and trim your bangs right then and there. I know that you're supposed to snip vertically, cut in sections, etc. etc. but you were so squirmy that I just gathered your bangs with my fingers and snipped. Unfortunately, I snipped off about two inches more than I should have.

Oh, Anna. You looked so pathetic and ridiculous with your uneven, insanely short bangs, that I could not help but laugh. At you. For about an hour.

You are a cutie-pie, though. Besides the fact I can't cut straight, the haircut is growing on me. It matches your increasingly mischievous and cheeky personality. Plus, I'll tell you right now, bad haircuts are a fact of life but happily, hair grows back.

We had a minor household emergency this morning when one of the pipes underneath our sink burst and gallons and gallons (and gallons and gallons) of water gushed out and flooded our kitchen, the kitchen below us, and the kitchen below THAT. Besides the fact that you were confused as to why Mom and Dad were running around all crazy-like, you loved it. You came into the flooded kitchen in your footie-pajamas, knelt down, and splashed around. As I was trying to bail out the water, I caught you trying to take a drink from the floor (ugh). I mention this because the plumber is over here right now and he asked how old you are and told me that he has a 14- and 11-year old. He watched you for a while, sighed, and told me that time just races by and that you'll be big before we know it.

I think that THAT is by far the comment we hear the most. People have been pretty good about not giving us unsolicited parenting advice, but everywhere we go, people stop us and tell us to treasure these times while they're here.

Your Uncle Luke was here over Christmas. When you first saw him, you hid behind my legs for about five minutes and then you wanted to sit on his lap. Luke couldn't believe what a different kid you are from how you were last year. Last year, he said, we all made a big deal when you rolled over. This year, you're running around throwing balls and (occasionally) catching them.

Right now, as a matter of fact, you are standing on my arms (yes, you read that right) and are pushing a toy car over my head.

ALL of that to say... you're a little girl now, Anna! You are no longer a baby.

You are talking up a storm, whether it be Anna gibberish, sign language, or actual words. You can sign close to thirty words now (I think. I haven't learned some of them). The ones you sign the most are "please," "more," and "Daddy." The other day, you signed, "Daddy, please banana?" You sign "sleep, please" when you're tired, which is probably my favourite. We laugh because "please," to a baby, probably just means, "give it to me now!" You are also picking up spoken words every day. Some of your most frequently spoken words are "up," "more," "ball," "pup," "Daddy," "book."

You are also proving to be pretty stubborn! You obey, most of the time, but have started to hit when you are upset and you can throw a mean hissy-fit. It's been a challenge for me to make it clear that "no" means "no." Sometimes it is a real battle of the wills (thankfully, I am stubborn, too!). For the most part, though, you are still your daddy's child with your sweet nature and outgoing personality.

We left you with Bop and Grandma last week so your dad, Uncle Luke, and I could go skiing. You hung out with Grandma all day, playing in the snow (indoors and out), learning how to flush the toilet (uh oh), chasing the cat, and throwing ping pong balls down the stairs. You are one blessed little girl. You don't only have grandparents that love you, but you have grandparents who show you how to do cool stuff!

We're leaving you with Grandma and Bop this weekend while we go on a weekend retreat with some friends. It's the first time we're leaving you overnight. I am apprehensive, not because I think you won't be fine or that something will happen, but because I am afraid that I will be the mom who is constantly thinking about her kid. I have this idea of my head of the kind of mom I want to be, one that is supremely chill, but I'm starting to realize that perhaps these feelings are simply natural when you are a parent. Maybe being a relaxed parent doesn't mean finding it easy to leave your kid behind, but just being willing to do it once in a while, anyway.

I told Uncle Luke that the thing about being a parent is that 1) you can no longer be selfish all the time and 2) you can't turn parenting off. The latter has been especially surprising. As much as being able to sleep in, take my time browsing in the library, read a book without interruption, eat at a nice restaurant with your dad--all things that I love--sound appealing, I can never just forget about you. You are always at least on the back-burner of my mind.

I submitted my application for graduate school over Christmas break. I can't remember if I wrote about being offered the job last fall and then deciding not to take it, but regardless, making grad school an actual possibility made me realize yet again that regardless of what happens, my days at a stay/work-at-home-mom with you are numbered. Even if I don't go back to school or take a job outside the house (both of which are real possibilities), you are going to keep growing, and eventually you will be in preschool. And, as Jason the plumber reminded me, it won't be too long before you are eleven. And then fourteen. Am I sounding too sentimental here?

I'm going to stop writing so I can blow raspberries on your belly.

I love you, Anna.

Mom

Fourteen months

2009-11-12T13:53:00.012-05:00

Dear Anna,

I am exhausted.

We just got back from a week-long vacation to San Diego to visit relatives with Lola and Angkong. You, despite extreme sleep deprivation, had a ball. Every time I turned around, someone was feeding you ice-cream. You (and Dad, not me!) braved the FREEZING cold Pacific for a swim, spent the day at the San Diego zoo, ate lots of great food, and terrorized your parents on the plane ride back.

Your dad and I like to travel light, so we decided to leave the pack-and-play behind and just let you sleep with us for the duration of the trip. BIG MISTAKE. You refused to sleep unless we lay down with you, and when you DID sleep, you insisted on taking up as much space as a twenty-pound little body could take. We woke up early every morning after a fitful night of sleep for some sort of activity, which meant that you were averaging four hours of sleep fewer every night than you get at home. A sleep-deprived Anna is a manic, Tazmanian Devil Anna. This meant frazzled, sleep-deprived parents, too.

Yesterday, our friends M and P visited. They do not have children yet and P was asking me what it is like to have a child. I, confident despite the tell-tale bags under my eyes, told him that our lives haven't changed all THAT much. I'm still the same person; we mostly do the same things. I likened going out with you to leaving the house with a giant purse, since you used to sleep all the time. (That was true six months ago. HALF YOUR LIFE ago. Why that stuck in my mind more than the difficult last few days is a mystery.) Then we went out for dinner and you spent the entire evening throwing food, spitting out milk, and squirming out of your high chair. I restrained you with one hand while eating my burger (and my words) with the other.

You ransacked the house this morning but are now, mercifully, napping. I am taking this opportunity to write your letter (if I don't, it will never get done!) and catch up on my monstrously intimidating to-do list. I am also pondering over whether or not you are acting this way because you are still sleep-deprived and out of your routine, or if this is just your true personality coming out. You have gone from being the chill little baby who sat through countless weddings without a peep to the little punk who punches her mom in the face and throws herself to the floor when something ticks her off.

Does this sound like I'm complaining? Maybe I am, a little, but mostly I'm just processing. I always say that I'm afraid to have another child since you've been so easy and that must mean that the next child will be a terror, but maybe YOU will be our terror child! What a consolation!

Okay, I'm really joking. I love that you are so much more of a PERSON now. You have your opinions and your preferences and are more and more insistent that we try to understand what you are communicating. You have many games that you play and are proving to be a very sharp, spunky little girl, which are traits I have always admired and hoped for in my child.

You are still in love with books, whether they be your Touch-and-Feel (<--what a dumb name) ones or my novels on the bottom shelf. You mimic words, sounds, actions. You pick up "tricks" easily, much to the delight of your Lola. Your new thing? Hitting yourself on the head when we say "ouch!"

You have also found yourself a new comfort object. Unlike your friend Gloria, who drags around a blanket and a giant stuffed bunny, you have shirked all of your toys in favor of... your bellybutton! There is nothing that calms you like lifting your shirt and sticking your fingers into your bellybutton. I always wanted a slightly quirky child, as well, so... thank you, God?

Grandma came over yesterday and told me that she prays that we will be able to discern which battles are worth fighting ("This is not the mountain on which to die"). You are not allowed to hit others, but we do let you eat ice cream. (Or should I say, you are not allowed to hit others, but we do let you hit yourself when we say "ouch?") We gave in to your demands for constant distractions on the airplane for the sake of the other passengers but insist that you obey when we say "no." We let you watch Sesame Street on my iPod but don't let you watch TV (unless it is The Office, and people are over, and...). We figure most of it out as we go along and recognize that our rules are probably very different from others. Sometimes we break our own rules. Sometimes our rules are dumb. Parenting can truly be hard work and it is with a lot of humility that I admit that.

The challenge for me during the stressful moments is not to equate normal one-year-old behavior with misbehaving. As much as you were driving me crazy on the airplane, your Dad and I recognized the fact that you were acting that way because you had only gotten five hours of sleep the night before and could not get to sleep despite your exhaustion because of the many distractions on the plane. You cry and flail around when you do not get what you want because that is your way of expressing your emotions. You cling to me and refuse to go to others because you get overwhelmed by being with different sets of people all the time. That does not make you a bad kid. That just makes you a kid.

You woke up from your nap a little while ago. I changed your nappy and was about to bring you to the living room to play when the phone rang. It was someone I've been trying to contact for work and I had to take the call, so I made the split-second decision to put you back in your room, close the door, and answer the phone. I ended up having a fifteen minute long conversation with the person on the phone and through it all, I could hear you crying in the other room. After I hung up, I picked you up and you clung on for dear life. We sat on the bed and cuddled and when I smiled at you, you smiled back. When things like this happen, when we leave you in your crib to sleep even as you strain against the crib bars towards us, I always feel a little bit like you might hold a grudge. But regardless of how miserable you are, how long you've cried, we pick you up and hold you for a minute, and everything is okay again.

And no matter how many times my patience runs thin, how many times I want a break from being a mom, I feel that way, too.

Anna, I'm exhausted, but you are worth it a million times over.

You are our sweet, spunky, stubborn, whiny, hyper, playful, bright little girl and we love you.

Mom

13 Months

2009-10-23T20:06:00.004-04:00

Dear Anna,
Here's a life lesson for you: the longer put something off, the harder it will be to do.

It has been three months since I last wrote. I am so sorry. There are many reasons for the silence, but mainly it's because it is easier to write about nothing than about a great deal of somethings (like your first birthday!) and these past few months have been chock-full of noteworthy events. I’ll have to remember this in the distant future when I am bugging you to write a thank you card and you are too busy playing street hockey on your hovercraft (or whatever you kids will be doing in ten years). I’ll try to go easy on you; I’m the one who missed documenting your first birthday because I was too busy Tweeting.

Also, the longer you put something off, the more you build up expectations. Just ask your Uncle Dan H.

There's nothing like having a child to really see how quickly things can change. Last time I wrote, you were barely standing. Now you are walking (albeit like a drunken sailor). Back then, we pretended you could talk. Now, you say “tickle tickle” when you see someone’s belly (really!). Last time, you were beginning to lose your dependency on pacifiers. Now you can whip a binky into your mouth faster than I can move it out of sight (boo).

So maybe not all the changes have been progress.

Another major change? Me. I was suffering from a lot of mommy guilt when I wrote your last letter. I think a lot of factors have helped me loosen up, not the least of which is the realization that a lot of my guilt was based on my tendency to compare myself to other moms. Now I try to gauge my parenting on how well YOU’RE doing. That makes more sense, doesn’t it?

We had you dedicated at church this month. Pastor Keith, amongst other things, prayed that you will come to know the Lord at an early age. We promised to care for you, love you, and bring you up knowing God's love. It was very special to have the church community before us, promising to help raise you, too.

You are saying more words now and learning so much every day. We've tried to teach you the "How big is Anna? This big!" trick and you mostly have it down, except instead of reaching your arms out to show us how big, you either put your hands beside your head I-surrender style or pat your own head repeatedly. I guess patting your head is a very accurate answer, because you truly are THAT big.

You obviously understand a lot more now. We have to be careful not to mention "milk" until we have the bottle in hand and ready since once you hear the word, you want it NOW. When you hear us say "outside," you wave at everyone in the room and make a beeline for the door. I am yet again doing something I thought was just a cliche—spelling words so you won’t understand. M-I-L-K is easy. Not looking forward to the days we’ll have to spell longer words out loud. Or worse, sound out the words the other parent is spelling.

Your Lola and Angkong were visiting last week. You kept grabbing books and dragging them to your Lola, then pointing to the armchair by the window. It is so very nice to see you enjoying books after all the months of tossing them aside after the first page. (You had your English-major mom worried for a while.)

We were a bit apprehensive before your Lola and Ankong arrived because you've been especially clingy the past couple of weeks. At first our fears were realized: you refused to let them hold you and you cried and whined a good bit of the way home from Maryland. Once we got home, however, you relaxed. Now you happily play with Angkong and Lola and only refuse to be held by Lola when you are being especially cheeky, and even then I suspect you are teasing.

I made a joke over the weekend about how you are the "bad" kid in the church nursery now. I probably should have chosen my words more carefully. You are certainly not a "bad" kid, despite your increasing cheekiness. You just went from being the most laid-back child we know to being the kid who grabs mom's calves with a vise-like grip when mom attempts to leave the room. I suspect that you are clingy for good reasons. You are now weaned. You spend four mornings a week with someone other than Mom (church nursery on Sundays and Wednesdays, Grandpa on Mondays, Aunt N. on Thursdays). We still do a lot of traveling.

I had a real "mom" moment the other day when I backed out of attending a lecture at the law school because it would mean a night with a babysitter for an already-insecure you. Sometimes I don’t realize that something needs to change until you are all of a sudden not acting like yourself. I still have mornings when I am startled to realize that it’s been too long since I've changed or checked your diaper. I guess having to sit in your own poop for too long would make anyone cry and refuse a nap. The thing is, it's taken me a while to get the hang of this mom thing. Your dad and I joke that it’s a good thing babies don’t remember the first couple of years of life, since that gives parents a buffer period in which they can learn how to be parents. I think there’s some truth to that.

As I write this, I am sitting at Webster’s downtown. You are at your Aunt Naomi’s house playing with Gloria, as you do every Thursday morning. Part of getting the hang of motherhood meant realizing one thing—it is NICE to not be a mom for a bit. People kept telling us that we needed to protect our marriage by setting aside time for dates, but no one mentioned how important it is to have time to myself. Having a morning free to read the paper with a cup of coffee in a crowded coffee shop (so original, I know) is revitalizing for me. And it is nice to be able to run errands without having to wrestle with a car seat at every stop.

Just as wonderful is the fact that you are developing a friendship with Gloria. You break out in big smiles when you see each other. You make quite a team, too—Gloria, the strong one, arranges the furniture so you, the monkey, can climb on top of them. Aunt Naomi and I appreciate the fact that you and Gloria have the opportunity to learn how to share. The two of you fight for toys (and food) and you’ve had to experience the extreme frustration of another kid stealing your pacifier and running away faster than you can follow. You’re the only child for now, but it’s good for you to learn that you are not the center of the universe. So you’re clingy in response to not getting as much one-on-one attention, but maybe this is one lesson that’s also part of growing up. And playing with a kid who could squash you if she wanted is probably good in toughening you up.

Although you’re certainly more challenging when you are clingy, I have to admit that I am also kind of loving it—you went from being a squirmy, independent baby to being a major cuddle-bug. The first thing you do every morning when Daddy picks you up from your crib and brings you to our bed is bury our face in my neck. During the day, when I’m sitting at my desk, you periodically take a break from playing and reach your arms up towards me for a hug and cuddle. You even sit still on our laps now.

You are growing so quickly, Anna. I am afraid that I'll blink and another three months will have gone by. But I'll write again before then. Promise.

We love you,

Mom and Dad

10 months

2009-07-15T17:47:00.011-04:00

Hi Anna,

It's been a tough-nap day today. Most days are good-nap days, nap-like-clockwork days. Today it took me two hours to get you down for your morning nap.

Why didn't I give up, you might ask, since you were obviously not tired? It's because I count on your naps-like-clockwork to sneak a nap in myself. Or guilt-free uninterrupted reading, whether in book form or (Face)book form. Also because naps significantly improve the rest of the day's outlook.

Quickly, this month, you are able to:

respond to "kitty, kitty!"
flip pages in books
stand on your own (for a moment so short, it is quantifiable only by a parent)
discern that Cheerios are BLAND!
open cupboards
fling yourself off the changing table in a blink of an eye
say "hi" and "bye" (maybe we are making this up)
fall asleep without a pacifier!
sometimes use a duck butt as a pacifier, on your own volition

Last night, you went to sleep after two semi-frustrating tries of putting you down in your pack-and-play (your Craigslist crib got recalled!). After much ado, you finally crawled to your pacifier, stuck it in your mouth, and put your head down. Two hours of baby-freedom (and one BAD Scrabble game--boo Daddy!) later, I looked at your dad and said, "I miss Anna. I want to go look at her even if it means I might accidentally wake her up."

I tell this anecdote not because I am a helicopter parent, but to give you just a tiny, tiny glimpse of what a fantastic little girl you are. You are a DELIGHT. I look at your chipmunk cheeks and roly-poly tummy and smell your sunshine/Aveeno/oatmeal/milk scent and hear your donkey laugh and just want to gobble you up like a marshmallow peep. I've felt this way ever since I laid eyes on you but for some reason, the feeling has been particularly acute this month.

I took you in for your nine-month check-up and you weighed in under seventeen pounds. This puts you at the puny 10th - 25th percentile. Your height and head circumference have held steady at 25% (compared to other female babies her age, for those of you who are unfamiliar with baby growth charting). You are, however, right on or even a bit advanced in your development. We get lots of comments about how you can already (insert baby skill) at such a young age and we smile and nod and then realize a few hours later that these well-meaning strangers/friends think you're two months younger than you are, which is considerable considering 2 months is 1/5 of your age. So maybe they're all a little more impressed than they should be, but better that than the alternative, I suppose.

You had two notable accidents in the past two days. Yesterday, I was sitting on the futon in your room while you were playing. I glanced away for two seconds and next thing I hear is a big WHUMP and a heartbreaking cry. You landed on your back (and hit your head) but what was more alarming was that somehow you hit your eye on the way down and cut your eyelid. You had a puffy eye the rest of the day (and a scabby cut). The boo-boo looked especially pathetic once you got over the pain and started to smile again. A laughing little baby with a swollen eye is a sight that can break the hardest of hearts.

The second accident occurred while we were shopping at Target tonight. (Incidentally, I returned a shirt that had unraveled in the wash and was thrilled about the fact that I now had a certain amount of money to spend on a NEW shirt and guess who ended up with the new shirt at my encouragement? Your dad. I sabotage myself! It also took me three tries to spell "sabotage.") Anyway, your dad was trying on a shirt so I took over cart-pushing and um, got too close to the clothes displays and I smooshed your tiny fingers. You howled and then got over it. I am still not over it. I am so sorry. I am a bad cart-driver and now have seen the consequences.

As I type, you are sitting in your new booster seat/high chair eating cheese. There are Cheerios mixed in with the cheese on your tray. Your dad just came in to tell me that you are systematically picking out the Cheerios that are co-mingling with the beloved cheese and throwing them onto the floor.

Your dad and I were talking this evening about how you are never in a bad mood and never cry unless 1) you don't want to go to bed, which happens occasionally; 2) you don't want to lie down for a diaper change without a toy to hold as distraction; 3) someone smooshes your tiny fingers. You are seriously a really easy kid. I am working two full days a week (from home) this summer. All I have to do to keep you entertained is set up your toys in the living room, stick unbreakables on a shelf for you to pull down, and talk to you occasionally.

Our friends told us that one of THEIR friends spends a big part of every day doing educational activities with her child. When I heard this, I felt guilty that I don't do the same for you. Most days consist of a lot of interaction, yes, but generally you play with your toys or hang out with me as I go about my day. Sometimes I don't even read to you. This made me feel terrible for a while, like my friends were secretly trying to tell me that I don't do enough with you... which means that you won't actually reach your full intellectual potential... which means that I am a bad mom.

And this train of thought is part of what has given me Great Parenting Revelations:

I am doing the best that I can.
Each baby's needs are different.
It is wrong to judge other peoples' parenting.
I need to stop being paranoid that other people are judging my parenting.

Number four is especially hard for me. I feel unspoken judgment from working friends that "all I do" is stay home with you all day. I feel unspoken judgment from SAHM friends because I sometimes admit to feeling bored at home and look forward to going back to school/work. I feel unspoken judgment for letting you use a pacifier, for surfing the internet while you are playing, for not reading to you enough, for sometimes giving you formula, for giving you sweet potatoes three meals in a row, for letting you cry to tire you out some nights, for dressing you in baby jeans, for dressing you in almost entirely second-hand clothes, for not putting you in daycare... And that brings me to the Greatest Parenting Revelation: most--if not all--of these are in my own head and I NEED TO STOP JUDGING MYSELF.

My hope and prayer for you is that you have true joy in your heart and that you are loved by many and love many. And if I am honest with myself, I know that factors as small as baby jeans or as large as whether or not I go back work are ultimately irrelevant. Because I truly am loving you the best way that I know how.

And, on a lighter note and in the interest of full disclosure for future reference, the
Top 5 NON-fun Things About Being Your Parent:

You like to pinch my neck and it HURTS.
Sometimes you kick and scream like you are being mauled by a bear when really, you just don't want to sleep EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY EXHAUSTED.
I cannot count the number of times I have had to touch your truly disgusting poop.
The fact that no matter HOW hard I try to minimize your baby junk, your bag for a weekend away is easily four times the size of ours.
I can no longer sleep in.

I once told your daddy that I love you more than applesauce. He scoffed and said that I don't really even love applesauce. True.

Anna, I love you more than sleep.

Mom

Nine months

2009-06-14T02:10:00.002-04:00

Dear Anna,

I was going to start by saying that you have officially been outside my belly for as long as you were inside, but that would not be accurate since you were born a month early. So I really should've made that dramatic statement last month. But I didn't think of it.

Um.

You now wave. And clap. And Daddy swears that you took a couple of steps (which I maintain were random foot-shuffles mid-fall that happened to look like steps). At any rate, you're still a standing/furniture-cruising fiend, hardly ever staying still and mostly opting to stand instead of crawl.

Hanging out in your "activity garden," which takes up the whole living room area when we have it out. There is no longer any doubt that there is a child in our house.

Yeah, I feel the same way when I don't get mail.

You have now eaten fish and red meat, although most meals still consist of pureed steamed vegetables. It is now obvious that your favourite things to eat are bread and fruit. This translates to carbs and sugar, which means that the apple has not fallen far from the tree.

This month, we are cat-sitting for your grandma and grandpa. We joke that the cat is your uncle, since he is like Grandma and Grandpa's other kid, but maybe we shouldn't joke about that too much because it just makes our family sound weird. At any rate, Chai the cat is staying with us. You LOVE him. You do your donkey laugh whenever you see him. Chai tolerates you, which is sweet of him considering your habit of grabbing his fur and trying to chew his tail. I am enjoying Chai for the most part, but am just wary that 1) he will climb into bed with us and breathe on me with his nasty fish breath or 2) he will jump into your crib during one of your naps and freak you out. (So yeah, the second fear is more valid than the first, but both are there.)

Poor Uncle Chai. (For the record, this picture was taken a couple of months ago.)

You attended three weddings this month. During the first wedding (Uncle Andrew and Aunt Becca's), you hung out with Grandma and Grandpa at the back of the church and mostly snoozed through it. You were a sweetheart during Uncle Kit and Aunt Julia's wedding the next week and only needed to be quieted (happy sounds) with a bottle of milk once. We were in Michigan this last weekend for Uncle Steven and Aunt Casey's wedding, during which you hung out in the nursery with your new friend Andrew. As far as we know you didn't terrorize any of the other children. So you have behaved for all five weddings you've attended in your nine months of life, which means there is a good chance we'll bring you along to the two other weddings we're going to this summer. Good job, Anna!

Behaving at Uncle Andrew and Aunt Becca's wedding.

Taking advantage of being all dressed up. Family photo time!

With Uncle Abel and Andrew last weekend.

It took us 10 hours to get to Grand Rapids for Aunt Casey's wedding last week. The only thing I am going to say about that is that you are no longer as fond of your car seat as you used to be. (But you did well.)

The most notable thing about this month for us is that you were finally able to meet your big brother Luka! He is a hyper one and mostly danced around, only pausing for a few seconds at a time to give hugs or pose for pictures. We found it endearing that he always referred to you as "Baby Anna." It sure warmed our hearts to see you two together. We still haven't stopped wishing that we could just bring him home with us for good! (You also got to meet a bunch of our friends from TZ, which was not only very special to us, but also nice because they love babies and you had different people taking turns holding you throughout the entire weekend.)

What a happy family! Dad, Mom, Luke, Rugby Ball, Anna!

Oh, you two.

With Uncle Colton during the reception (I believe I was getting more chocolate covered strawberries when this was taken).

You are, thankfully, sleeping well. You go down for your naps with no problem, napping at least two or three times a day. You rarely cry when I put you down and usually have no problem going to sleep for the night at around 7 or 8, which leaves your dad and I a few hours in the evening to do our own thing (i.e. wash dishes, read, stalk friends on Facebook interruption-free. Your parents are SO exciting.)

I feel the need to warn all of our friends who do not have children that they should SLEEP IN as much as they can before they have kids. You have made it impossible by waking up between 5:00 - 7:00 AM every single morning. We usually just bring you to bed with us until Dad leaves for work at 7:30, but you spend most of the time poking us in the eyes and crawling over us, so awake and ready to PLAY!* while we desperately try to catch a few more minutes of sleep. I am not the best mother during these moments.

Anna wants to play, Mom wants to sleep.

I spent some time going through pictures of you today to make a "Best of Anna" folder. In the process, I also found a bunch that should go into a "Worst of Anna" folder. Maybe this is mean, or just me getting very premature, preemptive revenge (oxymoron?) for all those times you will be embarrassed of me when you are a teenager, but I thought everyone would appreciate a couple samples of "Worst of" shots. (You're usually so cute that it's only fair to the other kids.) Here are a couple:

You okay there, Missy?

Ha ha ha ha!

You'll always be beautiful to us, Anna.

Love,
Mom

*You have two favourite games. 1) As soon as you see Daddy's bare chest, you lunge and give him titty-twisters (I wish there was a better way to say that). Mommy finds this game much more amusing than Daddy. 2) You grab your pacifier and ram it in Daddy's or my mouth then laugh at how silly we look. Then you yank it back out and put it back in yours. You can do this indefinitely.

Eight Months

2009-05-29T09:59:00.009-04:00

Dear Anna,

You are eight and a half months old now and a completely different child than you were a month ago.

For one, you are LOUD. You used to sit silently for hours at a time, just taking everything in with your round eyes. You made sounds every now and then, but only for a short spurt of time. Almost like you needed about ten minutes every few hours to verbally express yourself, and that was it. NOW, you not only babble (you first started technically babbling "ba-ba-ba" during the E Free women's retreat), but you have discovered the ability to YELL. You especially like to practice yelling during mealtimes between bites. Is it okay for me to say that it can be really annoying? Annoying in a cute way, of course.

You are also incredibly mobile. Last month you were doing the army crawl, dragging your belly along the ground while your arms frantically grasped for a handhold. You looked like you were rock-climbing ala your father, except completely horizontal. Now, you can crawl in earnest. I thought I would have to start putting up baby gates and obstacles to keep you from crawling all through the house but you interrupted your own crawling progress when you realized you could STAND. We discovered the skill abruptly when, in the middle of the night, we heard some movement in your crib and turned on the lights to find you standing, practically hanging over the side rail. My heart jumped to my throat when I saw you staring at me in your upright position. You let us in on your new skill quite dramatically, Anna. You seemed very pleased with yourself.

Let me tell you, you probably spend 70% of your waking hours standing. For about two weeks, I couldn't get you to sleep without a struggle because you would immediately stand but couldn't figure out how to sit back down. Your standing practice also means that you have an impressive number of goose-eggs at any given day. But you're tough and only cry for a minute after you fall.

You are also very grabby. You like to grab my hair, grab my SKIN (I had no idea the skin on my sternum is loose enough to pinch!), grab food, grab expensive electronic devices. We visited the Arensens again after Becca's wedding. Barb served hot tea and yes, you immediately lunged for the mug and upended it on the table, scalding your poor little hand (and my thumb). You screamed and were obviously in pain for a while. We gave you a wrapped ice pack to hold (which you liked) and ran your hand under water and tried to distract you by taking you outside. You cried on and off for maybe twenty minutes and then forgot about it until you accidentally brushed against the little blister that appeared on your thumb. Poor girl. Alas, it could've been worse. I had just taken off your onesie and the tea could've spilled over your chest. We will count ourselves lucky if this is THE babyhood horry story. (This happened just this past week. I'm cheating here and including stories from halfway through your eight months--basically robbing next month of stories, but oh well.)

Since we didn't get any pictures of you wailing after your burned your hand, here is a cute one with your new friend, Maggie.

You got to hang out with Grandma and Grandpa during Aunt Becca and Uncle Andrew's wedding. Your favourite thing to do besides hang out with Grandma and Grandpa was to lean against the plastic walls of the pavilion while one of us made faces at you from the other side. I tell this story as an excuse to post this picture, because you are so very cute:

Food. You love food, just like your mom and dad. You eat everything we give you and try to eat things that we don't give you. So far I have tried hard to give you pure veggies and fruit (no salt! no sugar!) but you do love munching on wheat toast. You also like stew, plain chicken, and cheese. Your dad let you try chocolate twice this past month. You were completely poker-faced the first time but really, really excited the second time. I think we'll hold off on sweets for, oh, maybe another decade.

The biggest progress we've seen with the food thing is that you used to not be able to do anything with your Cheerios except shove them off the table in your excitement. Now you can feed yourself Cheerios one at a time. Honestly? I feel like I am watching each little development happen before my very eyes. (I guess that is the job description of being a SAHM.)

No, we don't actually let you eat whole apples, but I'm sure you'd like to try.

I have been making your baby food myself, just one of the manifestions of how I've become a hippie, au naturel, baby-wearing mom (peace!). It is actually very satisfying; the returns for a couple of hours of elbow-grease are exponential. Sort of like using cloth diapers. Maybe this will reveal the very depths of my SAHM-ness, but there are not many things more satisfying to the mom in me than several freezer bags' worth of baby food cubes or a stack of clean diapers.

So healthy. So satisfying. So... much cheaper than buying jars of baby food.

The best thing about babywearing. This and being able to multitask.

You have a wonderful gummy smile that you insist on sharing with the world. I feel very sad for you when you frantically smile at a stranger and they don't notice you. Your face actually falls.
I suspect, however, that you are going to replace the gummy smile with a tooth-y smile relatively soon, if the painful biting during feeding is any indication. I stuck my finger in your mouth this morning and yep! there is a reason for all that drooling! I guess we'll have to add brushing your one burgeoning tooth to our nighttime routine.

Oh! You have also discovered how to be annoying! I already mentioned the yelling. Even worse, you have discovered how to WHINE. When you don't get your way, you do this ridiculous little sputter, as if you are trying to make yourself cry. I find myself threatening you in a sing-song voice: "Anna Banana! I'm going to... stick you in the oven!" Then, for the next twenty-four hours, I am wracked with horror and guilt that I said such a terrible thing (WHICH I OBVIOUSLY DID NOT MEAN).

I have also struggled with the bad parent guilt of ignoring your cries sometimes in order to get something else done. Like right now, you just woke up from your nap and want me to pick you up, but I'm too busy blogging about you. Ha ha.*

Welcome to the world of parenthood, me.

Love,
Mom

P.S. Have I mentioned that you just get cuter and cuter? To the point of ridiculousness?

*Don't worry, I went and got you.

Yoga baby, etc.

2009-04-27T22:46:00.002-04:00

I uploaded new pics on Facebook. Here is the link to the album for those of you have resisted its sinister forces (thus far).

(still need to embed pics to the six/seven-month letter)

Months 6 and 7 (Asia trip)

2009-04-23T13:23:00.007-04:00

Oh, Anna.

To say that the past two months have been crazy would be a gross understatement. I decided to lump your six and seven month newsletter in one so that I could write about our trip to Asia all at once (and it was a good excuse to put it off... it's taken me this long to muster up the energy to even ATTEMPT to write about everything!)

You not only went on TEN different flights, you also survived:

a 12-hour time difference
the flu AND RSV (simultaneously!)
adjusting from Pennsylvania winter to sweltering heat
being held by dozens and dozens of new people
three different bouts of the cold

Can I just say that you are amazing? I am thrilled that you are already showing signs of being a person who thrives on travel, new friends, and new experiences.

Our trip to the Philippines and Taiwan was just so special. Your Angkong and two uncles got to meet you for the first time and were smitten, of course. Your great-grandmas and great-grandpa were overjoyed to hold you in their arms. And I loved introducing you to those who knew me when I was a little girl. You charmed the hearts of everyone from flight attendants to strangers on the street (some of whom asked to get a picture with you, much to my amusement).

Everyone has been curious about how you did on the flights. On the way there, you were still pretty sick and the doctors and nurses warned us that the air pressure might wreak havoc with your ears. People reminded me over and over that I should feed you during take-offs and landings. Well, I did my best, but you fell asleep each time. At first I frantically tried to wake you to keep you eating and then I realized that DUH! Sleeping is a good thing! You were fine.

What were the best parts of the trip?
Seeing everyone, of course
Celebrating your BEAUTIFUL great-grandma's 80th birthday with over 200 of her friends
Getting to watch Mom binge on Teriyaki Boy and seafood more than just a couple times
Swimming in the ocean! (more comfortable than the cold spring!)
Not having to sit in a car seat during car rides (Mom still feels some retroactive anxiety about this)
Hardly ever being put down
Sleeping beside Mom every night
The view outside the airplane window

What were the worst parts?
Having to sit still for all those loooooong flights
Being sick
Not seeing Dad for a whole WEEK
Saying goodbye to Lola and Angkong, Tito Vic and Tito Law
Several exploding diapers a day due to the 1) antibiotics and 2) too-small diapers

Please forgive the lack of anecdotes in this letter. In the future, when you want to hear about your first trip to see your Lola and Angkong, we'll look at these pictures together and I will tell you the stories behind them.

Oh, I should note that you started to sit up on your own while we were in the Philippines. And you ate your first bites of solid food when we were in Taiwan! (You were a champ--partly because you are just amazing, but also because I know deep down that you were ready for solids maybe two months ago).

Since we've been back, it's certainly been a challenge to get you back to your old routine. We had just successfully sleep-trained you before we left for Taiwan... and now you are waking up about as often as a newborn. What's worse is that you no longer want to sleep by yourself, after experiencing the joys of sharing a bed with Mom and Dad! (I will save the thoughts on sleep-training for a later post.)

Before we left on our trip, one of our friends from church warned me, "Anna will be spoiled rotten, but it will be WORTH IT."

How true.

I love you, Anna.

Mom

Five months

2009-02-17T21:26:00.008-05:00

Dear Anna,

You are now five months old. You have proven to be quite the little trooper recently; in the past eight weeks, we have spent five traveling out of town and two hosting guests. You are a great car-traveller--we'll soon see if you're also a good plane-traveller as we are flying to Taiwan this weekend!

Grandma and Grandpa visited this weekend to spend time with you and to say goodbye, since we will be leaving early Saturday morning. You cooed and smiled and laughed at them--Grandma read you a couple of books while Grandpa made sound effects and acted the story out with you. They love you so much and will miss you. However, they are also so excited for you to get to meet Angkong, Tito Lawrence, Tito Victor, and to see Lola again, not to mention all of the rest of the Brions and Laohoos!

Wherever we go, people comment on how chill you are. You hang out in your stroller, your carrier, or our friends' arms with nary a complaint. We can bring you almost anywhere without issue. You make us look good, Anna! We are often told how lucky we are that you are such an easy baby and also are warned that we aren't TRULY experiencing what parenthood is like--and that we should be prepared for a much more challenging time next time around! We'll see.

I must say, though, that while everyone is exclaiming over what an easy baby you are, you have gotten fussier lately. We've been trying to put you on a schedule in the hopes that you will start to sleep through the night again, and it has been a rough transition. Maybe it's because I am not feeding you on demand anymore, but there are certainly times when you get cranky. I have also discovered that you are now old enough to get antsy when you are held in the same position for too long. This is good and wonderful but I certainly am nervous about the upcoming 24 hours of plane travel we have ahead!

This month's milestones:

You have figured out how to remove your pacifier and stick it back in your mouth
You now actually play with your toys
You have a comfort object--you sleep better when you have a stuffed animal to hold on to
You went 10 days without pooping
You can roll both ways

You are at that extremely enjoyable age of being old enough to "play" and interact, sturdy enough to toss around (as your dad mentioned in last month's letter), and yet small enough that you are truly still a baby. You are so alert, so strong, and so bright that often I forget how little you really are. Sometimes, when you are fussing in the middle of the night (you stopped sleeping through the night after the crazy travels of Christmas break), I start to lose patience... and then I see your dad pick you up from across the room and I am overwhelmed once again with the realization that you're our TINY BABY! and the impatience melts away to a fierce protectiveness.

Lots of strangers stop us to comment on how beautiful you are. The funniest incident was in downtown Indianapolis. An older gentlemen (who looked a wee bit drunk, to be honest) approached us and started to fawn over you, exclaiming over your beauty. "She is so beautiful, so precious," he began, then looked at your dad and me and added, "I'm not prejudiced--she really is beautiful!" We had a good chuckle over that less-than-tactful comment. More positively (and not quite as awkwardly), a handful of people have asked what my ethnic background is then proclaimed that you are just the "BEST combination." We'll take it.

Five things

2009-02-02T16:55:00.006-05:00

1. Anna hasn't pooped in, oh, 8 days now. Things we've tried to get her going:

bicycle kicks in a warm bath
prune juice
belly massages
something a bit unpleasant involving a thermometer

2. Being stopped up has given her lots of gas (sorry, Anna). This has turned our sweet, happy baby into a bit of a fusser. She has also recently been waking up several times at night. Since it has been over a week, I need to bring her to the doctor tomorrow if she doesn't go tonight. Fingers crossed!

3. We suspect Anna will be a bibliophile just like her mom and grandma:

Clearly she would like to discover the benefits of being the first-born.

4. It's not just Anna's eyes that make her resemble her Gwakong. (I think the Back to Sleep campaign has produced a whole bunch of four-month-old monks.)

Check out the bald spot.

5. As Paul mentioned, Anna's doctor gave us the green light for solid foods, although we are holding out until a bit later since Anna's doing just fine on breastmilk. Anna's doctor, however, mentioned that one sign that Anna is ready for solids is if she starts to show interest in OUR food. Well, this is certainly happening. Anna was sitting on Paul's lap during lunch the other day and almost overturned Paul's bowl of soup in her excited grabbing. It is quite entertaining to watch her eyes follow my fork at every meal time.

2009-01-28T23:41:00.001-05:00

Boing boing boing boing from kshaff on Vimeo.

Four Months

2009-01-25T23:15:00.003-05:00

Dear Anna - Last week I was writing the date and it occurred to me that four months ago, you had just been born. Even since your mom wrote in December, you've grown and learned so much: like now you can roll over! We put you down on the bed one day and before we had time to think about it, you ever-so-nonchalantly flipped up on to your side and over. It was like you had been practicing in secret just waiting for the moment to debut your new skill. We were amazed; well done!

Your first Christmas holiday held lots of memorable events. Uncle Luke was able to get time off from the Air Force and flew home to spend three weeks at Grandma and Grandpa's house. When he first held you, it was at arm's length with the mildly-panicked and fascinated what-if-she-breaks-or-worse-yet-poops face, but in no time he was holding you up and moving you around and you were smiling right back at him.

Our trip to Houghton yielded more introductions: Barb and Jon Arensen. Aunt Barb took to you right away, and even Uncle Jon asked to hold you, though with the caveat that if you started to poop he would "chuck" you back to us. Thankfully you heeded his warning and he happily held you without incident.

Mom took you in to see the doctor for your second round of vaccinations. You were exceedingly happy to meet the doctor and sat in Mom's arms cooing warmly. As that needle plunged into your thigh, Mom says your face immediately changed. "How could you DO that to me?!" your teary eyes begged. And speaking of teary eyes, there's something else that's new - your eyes actually tear up when you cry (which is not all that often to be honest). After that visit, the doctor was so impressed with your growth, he said that we can start feeding you SOLID foods, though we think that we may delay that until after you return from your big trip to Taiwan and the Philippines, because that will make it much easier to travel with you! We applied for and received your passport this month, confirming that you will be making your first international journey outside the womb to go visit Ankong, Lola, and all the rest of the Brions and Lao(hoo)s in March. I took your passport photo myself while you were lying on the bed.

Grandma and Grandpa were just here visiting this afternoon. They get to see you every week or two, either when we visit them or they come here to see you. Today you were a little bit out of sorts, since your nose is all stuffy and you didn’t sleep well last night, but I know that Grandma and Grandpa love every minute that they get to spend with you, even when you’re not happy. Grandpa is still hoping that he is your first word.

I like to rough-house with you. We have a couple of tricks: sometimes I hold you up over my head with one hand like you’re an airplane flying around and other times I hold you upright in the palm of one hand, then I slowly let you fall down and backwards before catching you and nuzzling your belly. You LOVE that.

Your mom and I have noticed that when you are content, sometimes the easiest way to make you squeal with glee is to squeeze and hold you tightly next to us while pretending to nibble on your ears, toes, or other exposed extremities. And sometimes we whisper one of our favorite lines from Where the Wild Things Are, "I'll eat you up, I love you so!"

Three months

2008-12-14T22:50:00.011-05:00

Anna,

You are HUGE.

Not fat, and not really huge per se, but MAN you've grown. Gone is the teeny little preemie we were so scared we'd drop. You are so much hardier, so much stronger! You not only outgrew all your newborn clothes, but your 0 - 3 month clothes are getting snug, too. You actually fit into your first pair of jeans, with the help of your bulkier cloth diapers.

I love this outfit, but there is a reason people dress their babies in one-piece zippy suits.

You are so much stronger now. You like to wave your arms in the air and grab at things. Your piston legs are always moving and can deliver quite the kick, if aimed correctly (with our help; you still can't aim). You can stand for a good amount of time when we hold on to your hands and pull you up.

You have also become quite the little babbler. You and I spend at least a bit of each day conversing:

Anna: Gagaga-BOO-doo-DEE-da-doo.
Me: Gaga-boo-boo? Dee-DEE-da-doo.
Anna: Keeyoo!
Me. Keeyoo-aaa!

Once we talked this way for half an hour. (The rest of the world ceases to wonder why Katrina has a hard time putting real words together.)

While I do spend a lot of time talking to you using REAL words, it has been hard to resist babbling instead. When I do, your eyes light up as if you're thinking, "YAY! Someone's speaking MY language!" I just wonder what in the world you think I'm saying.

"Talking" to Gloria. Okay, on second thought, you're still pretty tiny.

This month, we made the switch over to cloth diapers. I have moved past the honeymoon stage and am now ready to declare that this is True Love. I LOVE cloth diapering. We made the switch because disposables are expensive, the bags and bags of dirty diapers heading to the landfill were starting to nag at me, and we were TIRED of the blowouts! We went for the super fancy cloth diapers that bear no resemblance to the ones our moms used to use and so far, they have proven to be easy and convenient (despite the fact that when asked what I do during the day, LAUNDRY often pops to mind first). Best of all, wonder of wonders, we haven't had a single poopy leak since we've made the switch.

AND you have a wowowo.

We put the Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving, as I mentioned in my previous post. The excitement of the event was, naturally, lost to you, but you have enjoyed sitting under the lights in your bouncy seat (which you are quickly outgrowing, by the way). You and your dad have also spent some quality time watching the trains circle around the tree. You particularly like the lit-up caboose.

Round and round it goes

You attended your first wedding this month (Aunt Jana's and Uncle Joel's). You were the dream baby. You slept through the rehearsal and the wedding--under the Christmas tree--and woke up during the reception to charm everyone with your coos and smiles. We are realizing how thankful we should be that you are such a content little one. Plus, this ups the chances that you might have a little sibling sometime in the future.

Your first dress

Maybe our favourite milestone this month has been your newfound ability to show recognition and excitement when you see us. You have the greatest, widest, most beautiful smile.

Smiling at Dad

You're awfully cute. So is the gingerbread man.

We love you!

Mom (and Dad)

Can you say "chipmunk cheeks?"

Anna's first Thanksgiving

2008-11-30T10:11:00.001-05:00

This year's Thanksgiving has been lovely. We went up to Mom and Dad Shaffner's house for Thanksgiving day and had a huge Thanksgiving feast. Grandma Rensel (Anna's great-grandma) and Susan (a Chinese woman living in Clearfield) were also there to celebrate with us. I got quite the mental workout, spending the majority of the day conversing (or trying to converse!) with Susan in Chinese. We spent the afternoon eating, sledding, riding the snowmobile, and eating some more.

Eying Great-Grandma Rensel

Hanging out with Grandpa and Chai the cat

The next day, we avoided the Black Friday insanity. The only shopping we did was shopping for a Christmas tree. It was my first Christmas-tree-cutting experience, and it was great fun, although the actual cutting took about two seconds as Paul used a chainsaw.

We had a real tree in TZ, too, but this was my first experience picking it out and cutting it down. Or at least, observing a tree being picked and cut down!

As per Lao family tradition, we decorated the tree on Friday. Paul's parents passed on Paul's yearly ornaments, a Lionel train set, and a beautiful nativity set from Bethlehem, and I put up our few ornaments from TZ, as well as my handmade Danish paper stars (we were short on ornaments last Christmas, so I had to make some!). Sean Read came over to spend the afternoon with us, then he and Kara Sunday came back in the evening. It was like college again, drinking hot drinks and talking late into the night. (Although "late" is relative!)

Paul, Sean, and sleepy Anna

Bonding with Uncle Sean

The next day, Dr. Arensen and Lisa came over from Houghton for an overnight visit. We caught up and shared stories, ate Korean food, and looked through Dr. A's photos from the South Pacific.

Now it is Sunday morning and we're sitting in front of the tree, having had a breakfast of cinnamon rolls, coffee, and mandarin oranges. We're listening to Christmas music and slowly thinking about getting ready for church.

Our tree!

We have much to be thankful for this year.

Two videos

2008-11-21T19:10:00.002-05:00

Anna now smiles and gets quite animated whenever she sees me.

Nap, interrupted

2008-11-16T17:03:00.009-05:00

It's hard to get upset when a baby interrupts your blissful nap when this is the face that greets you:

(These are all taken with my phone camera, which is why the bedsheets are in focus on every picture but our faces are not.)

So as you can see, we had some fun.

Two months

2008-11-12T20:02:00.002-05:00

Dear Anna,
As I write, you are hanging out on your bouncer and your dad is watching The Daily Show. (I have a feeling that Jon Stewart's voice will become quite familiar to you as you grow up.)

You have changed so much this past month. Some major milestones:

you are able to drink out of a bottle! (I have to admit, watching you eat without me was kind of a sad moment, although I was relieved that this means I can sneak out of the house once in a while)
you are now wearing some 0-3 month clothes!
you can (kind of) hold your head up
you weigh enough to be carried around in a Baby Bjorn
you hit the 10 lb mark (10 lb 11 oz as of your 2 month check-up)
you got your first vaccinations
you are no longer tongue-tied, thanks to the doctor and a pair of scissors

This month was extra significant because your Lola came to visit for about three weeks. She definitely spoiled you, but she spoiled me too, changing your diapers, burping you, letting me sleep in during mornings. I am already realizing that one the things that will sadden me the most about your childhood is that my family is so far away and won't be able to watch you grow up. I just hope that we'll be able to see them and communicate with them enough so that you know that they are your family, too.

This past month also marked an incredibly significant event to this country: Barack Obama was elected president of the United States! You did your part by sporting your Obama shirt, and your dad stuck his "I voted today" and "I voted for Change" stickers on your car seat. So yeah, we've used you to showcase our political leanings, but hopefully you'll be happy to have taken part in making history.

You have gained four pounds and two ounces since you were born and have grown two inches. Your doctor jokingly said that you'll turn into a buddha. I still marvel over your chubby thighs, knowing that I DID THAT!!! You have gained all that weight through breastfeeding alone! It makes all the pain and agony, frantic phone calls to doctors and lactation consultants, antibiotics, pain meds, acrobatic breastfeeding and relief positions, and even an ER visit WORTH IT! This will definitely be something I will lord over you when you are fifteen whining about how I don't really love you because I won't let you go watch Saw XVI. (Hopefully you won't be a whiner and hopefully you won't want to watch movies like that and hopefully they'll stop making them already. I believe the FIFTH one just came out? For the record, I haven't seen any of them.)

You and I spent an inordinate amount of time staring at each other. One of our friends told me that she sometimes thinks about her son's future wife during those quiet moments because no one else will spend as much time staring into his eyes as she does. You are much more fun to stare at now because you actually stare back. You are so alert and one of the most common things people say about you is that you have "bright eyes." They are also still a smoky shade of violet/blue, quite the novelty to me since otherwise you just look like a very pretty version of your Guakong.

Other than the vaccinations and frenulum-cutting, the other thing that has plagued you is chronic painful gas and poop. (I know, you probably won't appreciate all these references to your bowel movements when you are older, but pooping IS one of the few things that you do.) I gave up dairy-not entirely intentionally-for about a week and you seemed miraculously better, so I went ahead and had cheese to see if dairy really is the culprit. You have been in agony ever since and I feel terrible that I have caused you this pain and also sad that I have to give up cheese (bad timing, too. We bought a bunch of pizza and now I can't eat the leftovers!). I have not eaten dairy except a tiny bit of Yakult for five days now and you still look like you are in remarkable pain even when emitting the teensiest of toots, so I am not quite sure what to think. One thing is for sure, I won't be having dairy for a while, just in case.

Your dad and I fooled ourselves into thinking that you have hit the Smiles In Response milestone. Actually, this may still be true and you are just not that impressed when we thrust our faces up to yours and coo "Smile at Mommy!" in ridiculous voices. At any rate, you still smile and laugh a lot, but only sometimes in response to something. So those moments are probably still flukes. I read somewhere that the reason babies learn to smile to express positive feelings is because they get such a response when they accidentally smile in the beginning. Your dad and I were discussing whether or not we should undertake a psychological experiment by giving you positive feedback whenever you, say, grunt. But your smile is so stinkin' adorable that I don't think we could control ourselves for that long. Plus, doing that would make us bad people.

Can you tell, from the difference of tone in this letter from the last one, that I've been getting more sleep? We hauled our trusty kontico from the basement and set your portable bed on top of it so we could have you sleep as close to us as possible without actually sleeping in our bed. (This is our free version of this sweet contraption.) It has made the biggest difference, Anna. My quality of life has shot through the roof. Now I can stick your pacifier back in your mouth WITHOUT GETTING OUT OF BED. I can feed you lying down so neither of us has to wake up fully and can thus easily fall back asleep. That, in combination with swaddling (check out the nifty tricks found here), and maybe just the fact that you are older now, has me quite sane again. I feed you right about the time Colbert is running around the stage with his arms waving and don't have to wake up again until around 4 AM, and then you are fine until your dad gets up for work. It is great! You are great!

Oh, and I started to get involved in a couple of local mommy's groups. I went to La Leche League despite warnings that THEY BELIEVE MEN CAN BREASTFEED in search of support and advice that might help with all the pain and agony. I liked the leader of the group and they were quite happy to answer my questions. Much more fun (the La Leche League meeting was quite somber), however, was the Babywearer group. With the exception of one other much bigger baby, the other kids in the group are all toddlers, and they were running around screaming like banshees, giving me a taste of what my life will be like in no time at all. (They were having fun and were very cute, so it didn't give me a sense of foreboding or anything.) The moms here were really helpful, giving me demonstrations on how to use their dozens and dozens of baby carriers. I went home with a Moby Wrap and a ring sling from their library to try out and so far both seem like pretty good options, although you get a bit confused strapped so closely to me because wait, it must be feeding time if you're that close to your own personal refrigerator?

It has been a good month, Anna. We've gotten more used to having you around. Seldom now do we all of a sudden turn towards each other in the car and say, "Almost forgot we have a kid!" (Now we fight over who gets to push your stroller around.) You are part of us, you are our family. We love you more than you'll ever know, or more than you'll ever know until you have a little baby of your own.

Love,
Your mom

*It would feel wrong not to mention that the monthly letter idea came from Dooce, who is a much better writer than I am.

Lola's visit

2008-10-30T14:47:00.000-04:00

Anna, I hope that one day you realize just how much your grandparents love you.

Your Lola visited us for almost three weeks, and she pretty much held you the entire time. She kept saying that being a grandma is so much more fun than being a mother, but I'm thinking that it's probably more fun being a grandchild, too. (You certainly got more cuddle time and yeah, more frequent diaper changes. :)

We miss your Lola already, and I know she misses you.

(Sorry, Anna, the bottom picture isn't the most flattering of you, but your Lola sure doesn't look like she could be a grandma, huh?)

One month milestones

2008-10-29T12:32:00.000-04:00

Anna

was born
"sunbathed" (day 2)
got named (day 3)
smiled (day 3)
"laughed" (week 1)
lost her umbilical cord stump (week 2.5)
went through a growth spurt (woke mommy up every hour or so) (week 2.5)
visited Houghton! (week 3)
graduated from newborn diapers to size 1! (week 3.5)
fit into a front carrier (week 4)

(forgot to post this earlier)

Anna's baby bouncer

2008-10-29T12:09:00.000-04:00

Anna's Baby Bouncer from kat shaffner on Vimeo.

For all the people who insist that Anna looks like me, not Paul...

2008-10-21T21:08:00.000-04:00

One month

2008-10-17T03:59:00.000-04:00

I had been meaning to write you a monthly letter, Anna, and it is telling that you are now exactly five weeks old and I am just now sitting down to do this. Not necessarily an auspicious beginning to what I hope will continue in the passing months, but oh well.
So yes! You are five weeks old at this exact moment. Enough time has passed that the details of your birth are less vivid (painful?), but it has not been so long that I do not remember the overwhelming sense of the impossible that overcame me when the pushing and groaning were over and I saw you for the first time.
How in the world did we create a human being? How in the world are you truly ours? These are questions your dad and I ponder in the quiet moments between diaper changes. In other words, even as we quickly become accustomed to the daily rituals of caring for a newborn, we still have moments when the incredulity of this miracle is overwhelming.
As I write, you are in your Pack n' Play about four feet away from me. Four feet that seems like a ridiculous distance when your cries wake me up at night. Even though it is after three in the morning, you are wide awake and I can see you peering my direction through the mesh of the crib. You have decided that daytime is for sleeping and night time is for playing, so I have spent the better part of the night convincing myself that you are sated enough with milk to go back to bed only to have to get up minutes later when you decide that you are either still hungry or maybe just bored.
Just now, your pacifier fell out of your mouth and you let out a cry. I finally picked you up and moved you to my place in bed beside your dad, where you are within an arm's reach and you can maybe be lulled to sleep by your dad's snores (ha ha). This use of a pacifier is evidence of how the reality of parenting is such that one must choose which ideals are worth the inconvenience, and which are worth sacrificing just to get through the day. (Hmm, that makes me think of the upcoming election...) I was sure I wouldn't use a pacifier to, well, pacify you, but I've discovered that it is sometimes a lot easier to provide a pacifier than to BE a pacifier. As my dear friend Hannah said, "You can't ruin your baby in one night." This has been a comfort on the several nights we've relied on a pacifier and on the bleary-eyed moments when I decide to put off a nappy change.
Some things I don't want to forget: the way we can hear your "voice" when you sneeze; the wrinkled forehead/puckered lip combination that appears for a few seconds after each feeding; your "piston" legs; the squeaks and grunts you let out in your sleep. I can't even count the number of strangers who have given the same unsolicited advice: "Savor this time because it will be gone in the blink of an eye." You will never be this tiny again! And as much as we look forward to a more, hmm, interactive version of you, part of me is already mourning the fact that you seem to be morphing and growing before our eyes. Maybe those are just the post-natal hormones that are still raging but it is hard not to be sentimental when we see other babies and realize that in a month or two, you will be completely different. This thought helps keep me sane and loving when your desperate cries (which seem so pathetic and quiet in the daytime) wake me up for the umpteenth time in the middle of the night. As hard as it is for me to believe, these days will soon be gone.
So tonight, at least, I'll willingly see this lack of sleep as a small price to pay for more opportunities to savor you, just as you are, my teeny tiny little girl.

We love you, Anna.
Your mom

One month ago today

2008-10-09T14:45:00.000-04:00

Exactly four weeks ago, I went to the doctor for what I thought would be a routine check-up. Instead of the fifteen minute appointment I had expected, I ended up being admitted to the hospital. A mere 12 hours later, Anna Brion Lao Shaffner was born!

Not only was Anna born four weeks ago, but today was supposed to be her due date. We are so happy you came early, Anna! We already can't imagine our lives without you!

Anna entering the world

Anna today

Welcome to the world, Anna Brion!

2008-10-01T22:58:00.000-04:00

Anna Brion Lao Shaffner arrived a month early, at 3:15 AM on 12 September 2008.
She weighed in at a healthy 6 lb 9 oz and measured 20".

We are so excited that you're here, Anna!

Anna Brion Lao Shaffner arrived a month early, at 3:15 AM on 12 September 2008.
She weighed in at a healthy 6 lb 9 oz and measured 20".

We are so excited that you're here, Anna!