I am still amazed at how much you continue to change.
You are still as independent as ever, however you have started to snuggle a bit more (which melts my heart!)
You truly are the happiest baby 99.9% of the time, and only ever get fussy when you are tired.
Your personality is really coming through.
You LOVE to laugh and will laugh at just about anything (especially when Bella whines).
Last month was a trying time for temper tantrums, and I am VERY pleased to say that they are subsiding quite a bit. You have also stopped screaming for our attention (for the most part).
Funny observation: you sneeze EVERY morning during breakfast - and it normally happens within the first 3 bites of oatmeal. Daddy FINALLY started paying attention and the amount of oatmeal you get all over him has decreased quite a bit :)
You took 2 unassisted steps this past month...
I think you would've taken more however you saw me watching and immediately sat down.
I am busy planning your first birthday party.
Here's a hint on the theme...
M I C...K E Y
M O U S E
Because, let's face it... as much as you are our little monkey - you LOVE LOVE LOVE Mickey!
It seems so weird to be planning - it's like we JUST brought you home!
Lots more birthday updates on future posts!
11-12 hours at night
2-3 hours of naps per day
Hasn't changed all that much - eat, play, sleep, repeat!
Breakfast - cereal and formula
Lunch - fruit and veggies (sometimes meat) with formula
Dinner - whatever we eat and juice or water Late evening bottle
# of Teeth:
You finally got your 4th on the bottom, and not too long ago your top 2 broke through.
I wasn't going to post anything on this topic, but I decided I HAD to.
I'm sure MOST of you have seen or at least heard of the Time magazine cover and article.
In case you're living under a rock, THIS cover:
Now, I'm not UPSET about the visual of this child, who is very clearly a toddler, attached to his mother. What bothers me is the title Are you Mom Enough?
MOM ENOUGH for what?
The article focuses on the idea of attachment parenting.. basically, breastfeeding on demand, sharing a bed, tending to their EVERY whim IMMEDIATELY, wearing them constantly, etc etc etc for well into toddler-hood. And if you don't subscribe to this crazy lifestyle, then you are not providing the best for your children and they will grow up with psychological issues.
I'm sorry, but that is completely CRAZY!
While reading up on some of the reactions to this article, I stumbled upon this:
It’s so tempting to get riled up by the Mommy Wars, isn’t
it? The Time magazine cover story about
extreme parenting, Are You Mom
Enough?, featuring a beautiful mother in skinny jeans nursing her
preschool-aged son, is infamous by now. It made me, along with the rest of the
Internet, explode with righteous indignation. Mom enough? How dare they! This isn't a contest! But, wait ...
what if it is? And I don't even own skinny
The story also made me think about what I wanted to teach
Andrew—I mean really teach him. I’m not talking about the trendy must-dos that
crop up each year about feeding and sleeping and discipline, insecurity porn
concocted just in time to fill a fresh generation of parents with self-doubt.
No, I’m talking about the things that I want to impart in average, totally
inextreme moments, when my breasts are covered and my skinny jeans are in the
Here’s my wish list.
·I hope I raise a child who says “thank
you” to the bus driver when he gets off the bus, “please” to the waiter taking
his order at the restaurant, and holds the elevator doors when someone’s
rushing to get in.
·I hope I raise a child who loses
graciously and wins without bragging. I hope he learns that disappointments are
fleeting and so are triumphs, and if he comes home at night to people who love
him, neither one matter. Nobody is keeping score, except sometimes on Facebook.
·I hope I raise a child who is kind to
·I hope I raise a child who realizes
that life is unfair: Some people are born rich or gorgeous. Some people really
are handed things that they don’t deserve. Some people luck into jobs or wealth
that they don’t earn. Tough.
·I hope I raise a child who gets what he
wants just often enough to keep him optimistic but not enough to make him
·I hope I raise a child who knows that
he’s loved and special but that he’s not the center of the universe and never,
ever will be.
·I hope I raise a child who will stick
up for a kid who’s being bullied on the playground. I also hope I raise a child
who, if he’s the one being bullied, fights back. Hard. Oh, and if he’s the
bully? I hope he realizes that his mother, who once wore brown plastic glasses
and read the phonebook on the school bus, will cause him more pain than a bully
·I hope I raise a child who relishes
life’s tiny pleasures—whether it’s a piece of music, or the color of a gorgeous
flower, or Chinese takeout on a rainy Sunday night.
·I hope I raise a child who is open-minded
and curious about the world without being reckless.
·I hope I raise a child who doesn’t need
to affirm his self-worth through bigotry, snobbery, materialism, or violence.
·I hope I raise a child who likes to
·I hope I raise a child who is courageous
when sick and grateful when healthy.
·I hope I raise a child who begins and
ends all relationships straightforwardly and honorably.
·I hope I raise a child who can spot
superficiality and artifice from a mile away and spends his time with people
and things that feel authentic to him.
·I hope I raise a child who makes
quality friends and keeps them.
·I hope I raise a child who realizes
that his parents are flawed but loves them anyway.
·And I hope that if my child turns out
to be a colossal screw-up, I take it in stride. I hope I remember that he’s his
own person, and there’s only so much I can do. He is not an appendage to be
dangled from my breasts on the cover of a magazine, his success is not my ego’s
accessory, and I am not Super Mom.
I hope for all of these things, but I know this: None of
these wishes has a thing to do with how I feed him or sleep-train him or
god-knows-what-else him. Which is how I know that these fabricated “wars” are
phony every step of the way. I do not need the expensive stroller. I do not
need to go into mourning if my "sleep-training method" is actually a
"prayer ritual" that involves tiptoeing around the house in the dark.
This is not a test. It’s a game called Extreme Parenting, and you can’t lose if
you don’t play. And, really, why would you play? You have children to raise.
I don't know about you, but I couldn't have said it ANY better if I tried.
There are always going to be critics of how you are raising your children.
If my son sleeping in his crib at 3 weeks old in his own room, being formula fed, playing by himself, and occasionally crying it out makes me a bad mom, then so be it!
But I know at the end of the day, we are raising him to be an independent, free thinker who can do ANYTHING he sets his mind to.
And all the smiles, hugs, and kisses, must mean we're doing SOMETHING right!