18 Months

Dear lord, Brenna, you've already turned 18 months old.  You officially have been on the outside twice as long as you were on the inside. 
You have steadfastly hung on to your itty-bitty status, clinging to the bottom of the fifth percentile in both weight and height.  For those keeping tab, you are 20.2 pounds, 32 inches tall.  Your head is an impressive 19 inches in circumference, or the 90th percentile.
I can't help but to sing to you, on an almost daily basis in a country twang, Well it's alright to be a little bitty.  You tend to wiggle your little body along as I serenade you.  You get that good things come in small packages (at least that's what I was always told!).
In the last month or so you have been on the go go go.  You love to play on the driveway and in the yard.  You want to explore, but you like to be holding mom or dad or Addie's hand when you do.  You continue to love chattering, but you make a bit more sense these days.  You have Mama, Dada, Daddy, Addie, peas (please), up, hu hu (help), ball, down, out, go, buhbye, wawa (water) ninight, cheers, hi, and your favorite NO.
You adore the word no.  You like to say it over and over.  You like to shriek, say it with a giggle, whisper, whimper and cry it.  I am about at capacity for the word No.
I have heard you described as being all personality, which is true.  You fill up a room in the best kind of way.  You love making silly faces and blowing kisses.  You giggle with ease.
You continue to love animals, cats, dogs and birds being your most beloved.  Our trips to the zoo are starting to pay off and you love to roar like a lion and chatter like a monkey.
You are walking with a bit more confidence, though at times you are still a bit off balance.  You try running quite a lot, thus the constantly scraped knees.
You love everyone in your family, but you are far and away a Mama's girl - always wanting to be picked up and held, usually when I am fixing dinner.  Yesterday you were sick with a fever and you slept on my lap through out the afternoon.  You aren't usually much of a cuddler, so even though you were not feeling so hot, it was quite a treat for me to get snuggles.  You do give tons of kisses and the absolute best squeezey hugs, you just aren't a cuddler.
Your sister remains your idol, every passing dog is your friend, you love your Grandmas, our neighbors and smelling every flower we pass and you are just the sweetest little pea.

Somehow, a little less than a week ago, kindergarten ended.  ENDED.  Kindergarten.  I swear she was just getting on the bus for the first time an hour ago.

Addie grew so much this school year, but it is hard to pinpoint all the changes.  She grew more confident, more self-assured.  She, amazingly, became even more inquisitive and imaginative.  Some days she was more sensitive.  She may have learned to talk back a bit, be a little sassy, show her bossy side too.  She learned how to navigate girl drama, which oddly occurred frequently on her school bus (what in the world is there to be dramatic about in kindergarten, you ask...so much).  She definitely picked up new phrases  and words and discovered music beyond what we spoon fed her (don't worry, she's not a Belieber).
Her teacher consistently told us what a wonderful part of the class Addie was and each time I worked in the classroom I witnessed what a diligent student she had become.  Addie counted all 22 of her classmates as a friend, even the ones that weren't always so nice.
There were mornings that were excruciatingly painful, often filled with frustration, as we tried to make it out to the bus on time being fed, clean and awake.  Still, most days we succeeded.
Addison still loves being fancy, and shows that a lot when she draws or colors.  She loves using all different colors and adds her own details to coloring pages.  If I saved every picture she drew or colored for us, I could wallpaper our entire house, twice.
Her math and reading skills are great.  She is a fabulous writer too, but tends to go a bit fast or tries to be to fancy, both of which result in sloppy. She is excited to practice all of them, even now during her summer break. 
I find her sitting with Brenna and reading her book after book; Brenna is a great listener.  She is constantly counting things and asks Andy and I to quiz her with math questions.  She loves to write - sentences, little stories, people's names and her favorite phrase I love you.  Her last writing assignment in her Kindergarten portfolio is about soccer and it makes me smile every time I look at it.

It's been less than a week of summer and already when we play school we play first grade...as if kindergarten is a distant memory.  I don't know if I am ready for my baby to be so big.

Growing

I know I have had a few sappy posts about Addie growing up, but it seems that all she is doing these days. 
She still needs reminders to do things and she can be an awfully pokey puppy in the mornings, but she does a lot on her own these days. 
She makes her bed pretty much every day, more or less on her own.  Occasionally I have to help her get her pink comforter back up on the bed, but she does the sheets, the pillows and the decorations on her own. 
She dresses herself many days - to be fair I lay out her clothes on school days, but her own unique sense of style shines through on nonschool days.
She can brush her own hair and teeth and is perfectly capable of picking up her own messes.
For awhile now she has helped herself to drinks and snacks, but last week was a milestone - she made herself a peanut butter sandwich and cut it into fourths.
I know, amazing.

Next thing I know she'll be borrowing my shoes, snagging my car keys and demanding an allowance. 

I think holding bitty little Brenna in my arms makes Addie seem like an giant - that and her new Chuck Taylors.

Dear heavens, when did my baby's feet get so darn big?

Meet the Teacher

Yesterday we went to Meet the Teacher at school.  Addie has moved from Miss Sue's Ducks class to Miss Cathy's Frogs class.  Addie loved school last year - loved Miss Sue and loved being a duck.  I was a little nervous that she may be apprehensive about the change of classroom and a new teacher - how silly of me.  On the way to school yesterday she declared that she already "loved Miss Cathy" and that she was so excited to be a frog - RIBBIT!   (Yes, she ribbited the entire way to school).

She had no problem walking right into her new classroom, introducing herself and giving Miss Cathy a lovely drawing that she made during breakfast.

 We dove right into the class scavenger hunt - locating the calendar, the helper board and where the toys are.  She quickly found a froggy print out with her name on it and went on to decorate it.  She declared, on her worksheet, that her favorite color is pink, but proudly made her frog rainbow colored.

Once her coloring was done Miss Cathy hung Addie's frog on the classroom door.  Addie very proudly and very excitedly showed me her masterpiece.  She was so comfortable.  So confident.  So totally at ease in her polka dot and stripes displaying her colorful frog.

And yet again, I was momentarily sobered at the realization that she is growing so fast.  My mind raced: school three days a week this year and then on the bus and off to kindergarten next year.  She is tall and self assured and brave - willing to try anything.  It never crosses her mind to be nervous in a new situation, instead she flings herself into the middle of the action.  Soon she'll be a big sister, and maybe not want to snuggle on my lap or hold my hand just to hold.  I got a little misty eyed - and then I saw this picture:

Turns out now matter how very big she seems to me, she is still, really, just a little girl.   Thank heavens.

And then she was 4

And somehow, three morphed into four.  How are you four?

Just a moment ago your were three...or were your two?  Or my god, weren't you just a few weeks old?  And now you're four.

You have so many ideas and opinions.  You are brutally honest about everything and do not seem to possess a thought filter.  You are still all girl - you are happiest when wearing skirts and dresses and being fancy.  You like to accessorize and beg for swipes of eyeshadow and dabs of lip gloss.

You don't let your skirts keep you from kicking balls, running in circles or climbing as high as you can get.  In the past few months you have fallen in love with the water and have done wonderfully at swim lessons.  Last year you would shriek if you went under water, yesterday you swam around so much under water that your eyes were bright pink for hours.

You love to talk to me, to your dad, to anyone who will listen.  You frequently start conversations with Hey Mom?  I gotta tell you something.  Often times you forget what you wanted to say and you simple say Um, I love you.  I never tire of hearing that - even when you are saying it to stay awake in the car or steal a few more minutes before bedtime or simply fill the silence.

This year you went to preschool two days a week - sometimes those days seemed to stretch on for weeks as I would miss you, my constant companion.  Other times the days seemed to end in seconds.  You made all sorts of new friends and learned so much - from how to ride a tricycle to how to hop on one foot. You came home with stories about Ava, Adam, Lindsay and Henry and loved our weekly carpooling with Nicholas. You can now spell your name, and you've finally figured out how to make a lowercase 'e'.  Your teacher, Miss Sue, described you as kindhearted, sweet, independent and adventurous.  She said you are inquisitive and polite.  At times she said you can be a bit sloppy, which is no surprise given your genealogy.

Your imagination continues to astound me.  You build all sorts of fantasy worlds with themes and princesses and good and evil.  You often play the part of the princess and whoever is around you is relegated to part of queen, prince, witch or creature.  In good weather you log hours out in the backyard - trying to hula hoop or jump rope.  You swing so high it makes my heart stop.  You decorate our patio with chalk drawings and you pick our potted herbs for snacks.  Sometimes you twirl at the top of our small hill and belt out the hills are aliiiive with the souuuuund of muuuusic or you stand in your play set  and warble a dozen different princess theme songs. 

You have a complete love affair with our neighborhood.  You think that Miss Kelsey, your babysitter, is just about the best thing in the world and beg for your dad and I to go out so Miss Kels will come play with you.  You also adore the rest of her family and can often be found hanging on the back fence talking to all of them.  You have buddies across the street who you want to visit every time you spot their car - often we have to go over just to say Hi or you will pout for hours.  Nicholas continues to be your best bud - you two rarely fight and are so kind to each other that my heart often melts.

Family is still super important to you and your face lights up when you talk about them or to them.  On your birthday you got to speak to Aunt Nikki, who was in Spain, over Skype and I though your smile was going to jump off your face you were so excited to see and hear her.  You often request that you get to say Hi to whomever I am on the phone with and you still believe that mom and dad's friends are really only your friends.

You have shown a bit more of your diva side as of late.  There has been some foot stomping, crocodile tears and ear shattering screaming.  In those moments I have to take a deep breath and try to remind myself that you are just trying to figure out your place in this big world.

You have gotten so tall and so big.  You are wearing size 10 shoes and 4T clothes are too small for you.   You no longer ride in a car seat and have graduated to a booster seat, which you think is so cool. The dimples that were on your wrists are no longer and there is not a trace of of those amazing rolls that adorned your thighs.  You're taller than most kids your age and skinny as a beanpole, even though you often eat like a wrestler in training.  The only place I still see traces of your babiness in in your face - I think those cherubic cheeks are going to stay with you, which makes me incredibly happy.

Your birthday party is tomorrow and you keep telling me that it is going be such a special day.  I know that it will be, as you will get to have your pink Aurora cake and more presents and be the center of everything, as you so adore.  But I am beginning to realize that everyday with you is a special day, even the bad days.  You are full of spunk and vivaciousness.  You are honest and sensitive.  You are creative and funny.  You are thoughtful and intuitive.  You have made me and you dad shockingly better people and have brightened our world to technicolor.  This is your last birthday where it will just be the three of us.  By the time you are five you will have logged months of being a big sister - I can't wait to see you in action as a sister.  I have no doubt that you will be patient and kind and embrace your new role wholeheartedly.

You are my still little baby...and you always will be, even though you keep on growing.  Happy fourth birthday, my sweet girl.

stand beside the ocean

During our first trip to Surfside Beach she still wore diapers. She took naps without argument. She didn't use words like interesting, actually and exhausted. Her wrists were bookended with dimples and her hair could barely be adorned with a bow. She tightly held my hand walking the beach.
This trip to Surfside Beach, two years later, she barely napped in the car. Princess themed undies were packed and she had opinions. She ran at the breaking surf without a second thought and dove under water in the pool. Her hair was swept back in rubber bands and there wasn't a trace of fat on her long, lean little frame.

Yet somehow, despite all those changes, she still looked just like my little baby when she stood at the edge of ocean.

Grow

There was a moment this morning, between getting coffee brewed and Addie out the door to preschool, that slapped me in face and took my breath away.
It really wasn't anything spectacular or special, but for just a second, as Addie finished getting into her sparklefied jeans and cute panda tee shirt, I wasn't able to see a baby anymore.
I saw some strange big girl standing in her place.

Her legs are impossibly long with no trace of the rolls that once resided there. The adorable little dimples that bookended her wrists have disappeared, leaving behind hands that can write letters and zipper coats. Her chubby cheeks seem to be melting away, barely pinchable anymore.
And in that moment, as my breath was taken away, my eyes filled with tears.
How is it possible that my baby is so grown up? She barely just got here.

Mama? What? What'sa matter Mama?
You've just gotten so big sweetie - I can't believe how much you've grown.
{Eye roll and shrug} I gotta grow Mom. I'll be your baby but I gotta get big too.

Conferences

Growing up I was always a pretty good student. I generally did what I was told and listened to my teachers. I almost always did my homework, but occasionally forgot to hand it in. I was a bit a chatty in class, but rarely disrespectful.
In fact, growing up I remember idolizing my teachers.
I think preschool set the tone of my loving school and my teachers (I could tell you about every single one of my teachers, but I think that might be a bit of a long post). My preschool teacher, Miss Paula, was cool. She was stylish and funny and read good stories. With the exception of my evil Kindergarten teacher, all I adored all my teachers. And even though I knew my conferences would go well, I always fretted about what would be said about me.
What if my teacher secretly didn't like me? What if I was failing and didn't know it? What if what if what if?

Inevitably, my teachers usually had the same things to say about me - "Jessica works hard. Jessica needs a little help with her organization. Jessica is quite the social butterfly. It's hard to believe that Jessica and JohnEthan are siblings".

My mother would come home with the same report: try to be more organized, remember to hand in your homework, ssssshhhhhhh. And then she'd take my brother in the other room and they would have a long talk that I was not invited to.

Addie has been in two day a week preschool since September. She loves it. She adores her teacher. She pouts on snow days, plays school with her dollies and repeatedly tells us that when she grows up she wants to be a teacher. She loves school, she loves learning and loves Miss Sue.

Tuesday was our first parent teacher conference. It was all of fifteen minutes long and it was glowing. Addison is a joy to have in class. Addison loves to learn. Addison is such a sweetie.

We were told that her cognitive development is right on. She recognizes her colors, numbers., shapes and letters. She is drawing most of her shapes. She recognizes her name and is starting to write it. She can count and recite her alphabet. She can hold pencils and scissors correctly.

She follows directions, expresses what she needs, has a good attention span and listens well. She is respectful to herself and her peers, takes turns and participates. And so forth and so on - a glowing report overall.

The places she needs improvement? Respecting school materials and cleaning up after herself - apparently she thinks everything she plays with belongs on the floor when she is done. Which is exactly what she does at home with her things and is a battle we've been fighting for the last few months.

We've seen her grow since starting school - she's become a better problem solver, her imagination has exploded. She is much better at turn taking and sharing. Her vocabulary is out of control. She points out words that rhyme, she can tell us that boy cardinals are red and girl cardinals are brown, she asks endless questions about the world around her.

Our silly 15 minute conference reassured me that Addie is doing a-okay. But what I loved most about it was seeing her work from the beginning of the year until now. Being with her all day, every day, I sometimes can't see how much she's changed or grown, but I think these pictures illustrate her growth perfectly.

In October, Miss Sue asked Addie to draw a face - this is her first attempt.

Miss Sue then told Addie she really needed her to draw a face - so Addie drew this.

Last week Miss Sue asked Addie to draw her family - and she drew this.

Leaps and bounds, she's grown, leaps and bounds.

a year later at the pumpkin patch

October 2009

October 2010

Perspective

Today has just been one of those trying days.
I know I have no right to complain - I just had a weekend away with girlfriends and laughter - I had a break from motherhood, which very few mothers get to have.
And it's true, when I returned I was in awe. She seemed older and wiser and worldlier. She seemed to have grown a year in four days. I was smothered in cuddles and kisses and love.

And then she cut her hair.
And hit me.
And threw her fork across the kitchen.
She got up in the middle of the night to sneak into our bed and stomped her foot when she was sent back to her room.
She pouted and spit and shrieked.
She threw mini-tantrums and a tiara at the cat.

And she clutched my hand as we crossed the street.
And started the dishwasher.
And helped spread peanut butter across her toast.
She explored the Children's Museum with wild abandon and endless curiosity.
She thanked Andy and I for dinner and said we were the best cooks.
She fed the cat without having to be reminded.

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At the start of the summer she planted sunflower seeds with Gramma Kathy and needed me to help her feed the birds.
That flower is now taller than her and she takes care of the birds all on her own.

Older and wiser and worldlier - three.

One moment she holds my hand as though she will never let go and the next she is wandering off: to the dollar aisle, to talk to the closest kitty, to play on the patio by herself.

One moment she was in the baby swing swaying and the next she is racing through the yard as fast she can go.

One moment she'll be snuggled against me telling me to stay and the next she'll say Bye bye Mom. Go now.

One moment she'll stomp her feet and defiantly say I do it by MYSELF and the next she'll look at me with those huge eyes and say Help, PLEAse.

One moment she asks me why she isn't allowed to do something and the next she's telling me

what to do.

One moment she is picking me dandelions, the next she's informing me that purple tulips smell like grapes (and yellow ones like bananas).

One moment she is my baby. I always be your baby, Mama, she says. The next moment I begin to wonder if maybe she isn't becoming my big girl.

All in what seems like a moment.

A forever friend

When we left Chicago I was sad for a gazillion reasons, but one of them was the fact I had a friend there with a son just about Addie's age. A friend who understood my neuroses and still put up with me. A friend who would drive an hour into the city just so we could log a face-to-face adult conversation.

We held each others' kids. We provided kid coverage so one of us could go to the dentist or get our hair cut. Or take a shower in peace. Our friendship was, is, effortless. It lacks drama. It's easy and lasting.

A little over a year after we pulled up stakes, so did her family. They left Chicagoland for New York Cityland (I know! ACK!). We don't get to see each other often. We attempt to keep in touch on the phone, but we never get to just sit and support each other - the exception being our yearly pilgrimage to the North Carolina shore and a fabulous visit this past weekend.

She, Renata, came to play with her son, Evan, and her husband, Toby, in tow. We went to the zoo. We munched on burgers. We took in a Cubs game without kids and with quite a few beers. We played board games, grilled, sat on the patio and let the kids run wild in the yard.

And the whole worry about two-year-olds not getting along or being shy...that is a worry that we don't have. Evan and Addie were peas in a pod. They swung on the swings, kicked balls, and jumped on the bed. The hugged and giggled and were so incredibly sweet to each other that at times I thought my heart might burst.

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When I was little I had friend like Evan -Andrew A.. Our parents were pals, he was just weeks older than me, and was my constant playmate. Pictures of him and his family pepper our photo album. He and I going off to our first day of kindergarten together, off to college, at my college graduation.
He moved away before first grade, but yet he still was a part of my life. We trekked to his house to spend the weekend cross country skiing. They came to our house to visit old friends and go hiking. We wrote each other silly letters and manage even now, in our hectic adult lives, to maintain a thread of friendship. He was at my wedding. This summer I held his baby son.

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And I imagine that Evan could be Addie's Andrew A.. They'll be thrown together because of their parents' friendship and soon pictures will spring up in albums. They'll have collective memories. Stories will be told over and over of their antics at the beach or the time she called him "my prince-y" or how he loved jumping on the air mattress in her blue tutu and yellow headband. Or the fact that if one of them had to go to the bathroom, the other did too.

And perhaps they will be pen pals. And celebrate each others' accomplishments. And maybe someday, long from now, dance at each others' weddings and hold each others' children.

And their friendship will be effortless. And easy. And lasting.

Addie and Emmett

They were born seven days apart.

She bosses him around.

He pays her no attention

She names her baby dolls Emmett.

He occasionally lets her play with Papa's light switch.

They see each other far too little.

They are growing far too fast.

Christmas in Chicago 2008.................................................................Christmas in Chicago 2009

A is for Apple

When I was growing up almost every fall would be marked by a trip to the apple orchard. In my memory, Mom would cram us (us being anyone in arms' reach) into the orange Oldsmobile or stack us into the minivan and we would drive to Kinderhook, NY.

The orchard we would go to allowed us not only to pick our own apples, but the trees were big enough that we could climb. And believe me, I was quite the tree climber as a kid. Height did not phase me. Bird nest, whatevs. Power lines, no biggie. My brother and I would scramble as high as we could, pick apples off the branches and toss them down to my mom. We would have picnics, gorge ourselves on fresh apple cider, and have rotten apple wars. The orchard we went to allowed dogs, and inevitably our silly mutt, Chemo the wonder pup, would run off and smash deer poop into her ears. Between that and the amount of cider we drank, it was often a bit of a stinky ride home.

However, once we got home it was apple recipes galore. Apple crisp, apple pie, apple sauce, and my fav, apple squares. I love everything about apple picking - the arrival of Autumn, cool air, blue skies, fallen leaves, laughter, family tradition. I love Autumn - I love jeans and long sleeve tees. I love the need for a sweatshirt in the morning. I love the smell of baking apples. And I am trying to impart this love to my little lady.

So, needless to say, I was thrilled to finally take my little Bean apple picking. The orchard we went to had gorgeous views of mountains, fresh apple cider donuts and pumpkins. The trees at the orchard were too small to climb, but that didn't deter us from having a blast. Addie plucked apples off the trees and chucked them into our bag - resulting in tons of bruised apples. The few apples that weren't bruised? Those were licked or bitten into courtesy of our little harvester.

She ran the rows of trees. She scarfed down a cider donut. She picked out a 'mama' and a 'baby' pumpkin. She watched cider ferment. And she, like me, loved it all.

For the second time in recent weeks, Genna and I let the girls sit together at a restaurant. Of course we plied them with crayons and markers and doodle paper - but the point is they sat next to each other. Across the table from us. Not hanging on our arms or trying to sit on our laps. Giving us an opportunity to have an almost coherent conversation.

And they were great, by the standards of a four and two-year-old.




In my everyday life I don't marvel enough at the daily growth of my little Bean. My mom always sighs that she's getting so tall or that her hair is so long and I absent-mindedly agree. But today, watching the girls share and eat their lunch, and not argue and not get covered in ketchup or milk, it dawned on me that Damn, they are growing up.

On our way home, as Addie snoozed in the back seat, I couldn't help but think about how much the girls have grown since last Fall.

So I scrolled through our pictures and confirmed it...and then felt just the tiniest bit misty.

Last Fall at the Zoo

This Fall at the park.

Moments

I've been playing with that snazzy camera of mine, which I am still far from having figured out, but am falling more in love with. I am amazed at the small moments I have been able to freeze. Yes, there have been thousands of mis-shots. I have hit that erase button few thousand times. But somewhere, in all my fumbling, I have caught a moment or two of sweetness. And silliness. And tenderness. These are two of my favorites from last week:

***Addison was standing in the kitchen, naked but for a diaper, wanting to play with the dirty dishes in the sink. (Oh my god, dirty dishes in my sink? Unfathomable).

I had told her no at least a dozen time and I was frustrated and she was frustrated. I have noticed in the past few weeks when she is uncomfortable or upset or frustrated then something is in her mouth - giraffe, her thumb, her fingers. It is driving me batty, and I have been unable to break her of the habit. But here she is frustrated and trying to not get mad and relying on her thumb to make it all better.

***For the first two weeks of this month Andy was on the road. He travelled to Massachusetts, to Chicago, back to Massachusetts and finally home. While he was gone Addie started stringing together words and making sense. She started to sing Hakuna Matata and the theme to Elmo's World. She became even more loving and affectionate, kissing and hugging and cuddling. She asked about her Daddy every day and really was missing her biggest playmate. I told her that he was coming home on Friday and this is how she spent most of her afternoon, not knowing we were going to pick him up from the airport. Every once in awhile she would shout his name out the window and then look at me questioningly. It simultaneously broke my heart and made me mushy.