Jan27

Being a Mommy Counts

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Being a Mommy Counts

So, I read the “Don’t Carpe Diem” article everyone’s sharing around on Facebook.  And you know what?  I think I may be, like, the ONLY person on the whole Internet who didn’t love it.

Maybe that’s because Analie is in such a magical stage right now.  Guys, every single day I get all misty and choked up because she is so amazing and so sweet; I just wish she’d stay like this forever.

But I know she won’t.

And I hate that.

Sure, yesterday she noticed I hadn’t latched the Tupperware cabinet and emptied the entire thing on the kitchen floor within a matter of 25 seconds.  But the look on her face of utter joy in the discovery was absolutely unparalleled.  It took me probably 2 minutes to clean up and reorganize the disaster once she was down for a nap, but two minutes of my time is a drop in the bucket when it comes to filling Analie’s days with the beginnings of rich life experiences.  (Even if it IS only Tupperware.)

Sometimes I feel frustrated by the negativity that can surround being a mommy.  I feel like we mommies get so caught up in expecting our children to behave like they’re years older than they really are so it will be more convenient for us…when what they really need is for us to get on our knees with them (even though it HURTS these days, right?!) and crawl around the house, pull stuff out of drawers and bang blocks together.

Discover life on Analie’s terms.  Not mine.

And isn’t that why I chose to become a mommy?  To do life with my baby?  Even when it hurts?  Or annoys me?  Or wears me down?

Maybe this stems from the increasing panic I am feeling about losing my “baby” as she grows up.  But Analie’s earliest picture of Jesus is going to be what she sees in Joey and I.  And one of my biggest prayers these days is that what she absorbs about Him isn’t that she has to fit into the predetermined behavior box we’ve made for her based on the behavior books we’ve read by well-intentioned Christian authors, or just what makes our lives more convenient.

I want the moments to matter.  The late nights and early mornings aren’t forever.  And I know that someday, when I look back on the early years of Analie’s life, I don’t want to regret my lazy parenting choices.

(AND OH MY GOSH, doesn’t the Internet make it so easy to be a lazy mommy?  Does for me!)

I hope nobody reading this feels judged.  That’s totally not my intention.  Because I am at least 60% less awesome at being a mom than I think I am.

But I’m Analie’s mama.

And I’m the only one she’ll ever have.

I want to make it count.

Jan25

The Partial Rapture

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The Partial Rapture

Yesterday I was putting away dishes from the dishwasher and Analie and Angus were playing in the hallway to our bedroom.  While it is true that I couldn’t see them from where I was, this setup was safer than than the last time Analie helped me unload the dishwasher; she had pulled herself up on the door and was helping herself to a paring knife (which shouldn’t have been in there anyway) when I realized what she was doing.

So no more helping with the dishwasher.

And besides, I had shut all the doors in the hallway, so there was nowhere to go but out into the dining room and right into Mama’s line of sight.

Less than a minute after I checked on them, I finished the dishes. And suddenly I realized it had gotten altogether too quiet in the house.  I walked over to the hallway; it was empty and all the doors were still closed.

Fine, fine, no problem; they had probably just sneaked around to the entryway and were trying to open the front door and escape again.  (If I don’t get it quite latched all the way, girlfriend has figured out how to pry that heavy door open. TRUE.)

They were not in the entryway.

Or the purple bathroom.

Or the den.

Or the living room.

Or Analie’s room.

Or under the dining room table.

Or in the kitchen.

OR ANYWHERE ELSE THAT I COULD SEE.

My heart started racing and I flashed back to one of my Bible college classes where the professor was talking about Eschatological views, one of which was that there would be a Partial Rapture and those who were ready would go on up to Heaven, and the rest of us would have to stay down here on Earth and work on it for awhile.

But that wasn’t possible, right?  Because every Bible college graduate worth their Grudem’s Systematic Theology knows that a.) 14 month old babies haven’t yet reached The Age Of Accountability, and b.) dogs don’t have souls.

That theory was off the table, so I did a second check of the house.  We don’t have a large house, Internet.  THERE AREN’T ANY PLACES TO HIDE.

The second trip around the house didn’t turn them up, and I was really starting to freak out.

And that’s when I heard it.

There was a NOISE coming from behind my CLOSED BEDROOM DOOR.

I carefully pushed the door open and was greeted by a grinning baby girl and a devilish puppy who was deep in a pile of clean, formerly folded laundry which I had been intending to put away during nap time.

They were so proud of themselves.  Because, MAMA!  WE ARE IN HERE ALL ALONE!

I have no idea how they got in my room, but I guess the door must not have latched when I shut it.

I’ma have to be more careful going forward.  A closed door doesn’t mean an empty room anymore.

But the really good news?  I haven’t been Left Behind!

Jan23

One Perk About Having A Late Crawling Baby

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One Perk About Having A Late Crawling Baby

Analie is, like, the least advanced baby when it comes to movement.  She’s all, Yeah, I know about that cool toy you have over there, but WHATEVS MOM, I’M COOL WITH THIS PIECE OF LINT I DUG OUT OF THE CARPET.

Short version, it has been difficult to entice her to crawl.

Finally, finally, FINALLY, the Wednesday before Christmas, girlfriend started crawling.  (And it’s good that she did, too, because I’m pretty sure our pediatrician was about two weeks away from firing me as a mother.)  Ana’s crawling progress has been slow but steady, but over the last week she’s really gotten if figured out.  More often than not I’ll turn around to make sure she’s still in the same room as me and catch the wobbly backside of my child as she haphazardly scootches herself along the wood floor.

It’s so hilarious.

Last week, Analie discovered Angus’s food bowl.

Several times on Wednesday I told her no and distracted her with one of my mixing bowls.  (Because she loves to alternately stir and whack Angus with the spatula.  Surprisingly he thinks this game is fun too.)

The next day as I was loading the dishwasher and she and Angus were playing on the kitchen floor, she suddenly took off for his food bowl.

I busted out my first Mama Voice and said, “Analie.  NO.”

She was leaning forward with her tiny little hand was outstretched to the food, but when she heard my voice, she JUMPED. (Then I freaked out that I’d been too firm with her.  (Did I yell???!  I need a hidden camera!))

Analie sat up and stared at the food bowl.  She didn’t move.

I continued to freak out in my mind that maybe what I had thought was my firm voice had really been a yell.  (One of my parenting goals is to be just like my mama and speak firmly but with no yelling!  EVER!)  I wished I wasn’t looking at the back of her head, because I wanted to see those little wheels turning; one thing I love about this stage is that Analie can’t keep her emotions off her face.

It seemed like forever, but was probably only about two seconds, before Analie turned around and happily crawled back to the mixing bowl and picked back up where she had left off.

Victory?

The very next day, we repeated the same situation, right down to the mixing bowl and spatula toy on the floor. But this time when I told her no, I used only a fraction of the firmness I had used the day before.  And you know what?  She immediately turned around!  AND SHE HAS IGNORED HIS FOOD BOWL EVER SINCE!

I am totally expecting her to sneak over there again. But for our first NO! crawling boundary, I am so proud of Analie.

And I’m also glad that she waited so long to start crawling.  Because I’m not worn out by saying no yet.  (That’ll probably hit next week, right mamas?)

 

 

Jan16

Excellent Parenting 201

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Excellent Parenting 201

Last week Joey taught his Youth Culture adult Connection Class on music. So he played the Top 3 songs for the parents and then they discussed what the song was saying, why it connects to students etc. I’m going on record now to say that we were probably the only church streaming Sexy And I Know It from the Billboard website.

But it was an awesome conversation and Joey and I were both super encouraged by the comments the parents made.

This morning, Ana and I were watching a Red Carpet recap from the Golden Globes, and of course they were playing Sexy and I Know It during the clip.

Ana? WAS DANCING TO THE MUSIC.

I knew I should have covered her ears in Sunday School last week.

Jan16

Early Learning Activities: Week 2 (What Made That Sound?)

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Early Learning Activities: Week 2 (What Made That Sound?)

This week we’re working on associating unique sounds with the thing that makes them.  Sure, sure, Analie clearly knows what many sounds sounds come from, but this is more intentional and it allows her to explore them.

If you want to do this at home, you need three(ish) things which can probably be found around your house.

  1. Something that rings or dings (bells, or maybe a kitchen timer?)
  2. Something that shakes and rattles (a marble in a metal box?)
  3. Something that swishes (water in a tupperware?)

Today during Ana’s nap, I assembled what I needed. Well, with one correction.  We don’t have any reliable kitchen timers that are portable, so I grabbed a bag of 25 small bells for $3.00 from Walmart.  (I’m going to use them for other things later; we might make a tambourine.)  Ana got to hold the bag of bells in the store and she was SO proud of herself, shaking them for everyone we passed.

Here’s what I put together.  And again, please be advised that these are point and shoot pictures.  So please don’t hurt your eyes looking at them.

Step 1: Ringaling!

I don’t have any ribbon, but I have bias tape (and I have no idea where it came from or how to use it), so I strung the bells on the tape.  It would have been much easier to do with ribbon, incidentally, because bias tape is flimsy and disintegrates.  So don’t use bias tape if you don’t have to.

Step 2: Shake, shake, shake!

I have neither metal box nor marbles.  But we’ve got coffee beans and pint jars!

Step 3: Swoosh!

I found a small, nearly empty decorating candy jar and put a few drops of gel paste in the bottom of it.  Add a bit of water and it’s perfect!

I also thought to add some glue to the inside of the lid so that Analie won’t be able to peel the lid off and spill bright blue water everywhere.  AND STAIN THE RUG.

Step 4: Admire your work!

Step 5: Play with your baby!

Jan15

Things That Are True.

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Things That Are True.

Analie thinks Angus is a small human friend for her to play with.

Angus thinks Analie is a puppy.

My parents are worried that Analie is going to contract roundworms from Angus. (I feel that this is unlikely since we haven’t (yet) caught Analie eating any of Angus’s poo.  BUT IN THIS HOUSE YOU JUST NEVER KNOW WHAT TOMORROW BRINGS.)

Analie wore the same PJs for four days straight this week.

Angus is eating Analie’s socks.  Again.

A crawling baby is not unlike a blindfolded NASCAR driver.  There is disaster looming around every corner.

Downton Abbey is on tonight.  Get your early 20th century on.

Jan12

Childlike Abandon

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Childlike Abandon

Our pediatrician instructed us to “strengthen that girl’s thigh muscles” so that maybe by the time she’s 3 she’ll be taking her first steps.  So we got this death trap Johnny Jump Up from a friend, and Analie loves it.

As you can see.

Jan12

The Paint Can.

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The Paint Can.

First of all, I realize that I sound like The Most Unobservant Mother Ever.  I probably am.

Second of all, there is no photographic record for what I am about to tell you.   You’ll just have to take my word for it.  Because WHY WOULD I MAKE THIS UP!?

A week ago, Joey brought in a paint can from the garage to warm up so he could paint the inside of a door that he was working on.  Short version: the paint was all weird from being in the garage for so long, so we were going to have to throw it out.  He stuck the drop cloth and a couple of paint cans in the corner of the kitchen, and that was the end of the project.

Fast forward to today.  I was cleaning the kitchen counters while Analie and Angus alternately stirred and tried to climb inside my largest mixing bowls.  They’ve been playing on the kitchen floor all week and haven’t even noticed the drop cloth and cans in the corner, so I’d wipewipewipe the counter, glance back to make sure they weren’t biting each other, and then wipewipewipe the counter again.

Suddenly, I had to go to the bathroom.  (I KNOW, SORRY.  But it’s what happened next.  I’m sure you have to go to the bathroom sometimes too.)  I looked at my children, happily shoving each other as they scuffled over which one of them was going to use the spatula, and I ran out of the room.

I was gone for less than a minute.  Probably more like 30 seconds.  (Because really, who washes their hands in the bathroom when you left your kids playing on the kitchen floor by themselves?  My kitchen has a sink, and I know how to use it.)  When I returned, they were not where I left them.

NO.

THEY WERE NOT.

Suddenly, one of them had spotted the paint cans and drop cloths in the corner, so they had both crawled over and started exploring.

GUYS.  I have been staring at those stupid paint cans all week and somehow I neglected to notice that one of them didn’t even have a lid on it.

You want to know how fast they realized that?  Like 0.0001 seconds after starting to crawl over there.  And you want to know what else?  Not only did that stupid paint can not have a lid on it, but there was a stir stick in it!  STICKING UP IN THE AIR LIKE THE SEARS TOWER.  (Wait, do they even call it the Sears Tower anymore?  Whatevs.)  But you surely get my point, which was that the stick was super obvious to anyone who has eyeballs.  And it’s always a pretty good indicator that there’s no lid on a paint can if there’s a stir stick in it.

So we’ve established that I’m blind.

Back to the story.

I walk into the kitchen and there’s Analie, holding the end of a gloopy, paint-soaked, stir stick, and she’s happily sweeping it in broad swaths on the wood floor.  The grin on her face is worth a million bucks, and I can see the pure amazement that WOAH!  There’s white stuff every place I move this stick!

Where’s Angus?  Oh, he’s eating the wet paint she smears on the floor, so his face and whiskers are bright white.

What did I do?  I started screaming “WHAAAAAAT?!?!” and jumped around the kitchen floor throwing random things away.  I’m not even sure what all went into the trash can (hopefully it wasn’t anything important), but I know the paint stick was the first thing to go.

The paint on the floor was thick and oozing into the cracks between the wood on the floor, so I unrolled a bunch of paper towels and alternately tried to wipe the floor, my child’s hands, and keep Angus from eating more paint.

And did I mention that somewhere in the chaos I stepped in the paint?  I wish I had realized it when it happened, because the next thing I knew there were Jenna footprints all over the kitchen floor.

I could keep going, but I think you get the drift.  All told, it took about 20 minutes and Joey’s travel toothbrush to clean up.  Angus has since stolen that toothbrush and carried it off to who knows where.

I just hope the paint on it has dried by now.

(I feel like the takeaway in all this is that I just need to stop having to go to the bathroom.  Ever.  Because LOOK WHAT HAPPENS.)

And that is the story of how I inked my place in the record books as The Most Unobservant Mother Ever.

Jan4

Girlfriend just said purple. TRUE.

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Girlfriend just said purple. TRUE.

After lunch we were sitting on the floor in the dining room coloring Ana’s picture purple.  I bought her some chubby washable crayons, and it’s a good thing, too, because let’s just say that not all of today’s coloring was done on the paper.  And the crayon just wiped right off! (Crayola has come a long way since when The Kid was three and colored all over the wall in the hallway when Sister and The Brother locked him out of the playroom because he was being annoying.  And boy howdy, he sure gave them the What For.)

She still can’t choose purple out of a lineup of crayons, but I think that’s mostly because she just wants all of them at the same time, right now, please and thank you.

About five minutes of coloring later it was clear that Ana didn’t want to color on the paper anymore (key phrase: ON THE PAPER) so I decided to call it and switch to reading a book about colors.

I read that stupid book six times.  SIX.  (Once was backwards and once was on my  head, so if those don’t count as real read throughs then only four.)  That sixth time when I turned to the purple page, Ana screamed and said “BA-BUH!!!”  And then she looked at me like she had just singlehandedly averted Climate Change and wasn’t I super proud of her?

Now that she can SAY purple, perhaps we will be able to select the purple crayon tomorrow?