10 Months

Dear Zoë,

Not only is today your Papa Don’s birthday (Happy Birthday, Papa Don!) but it is your 10-month birthday. We’ve reached the double digits – just two more months to go until the big one. I don’t know what it is about saying “ten months”, but it just suddenly sounds so much older. Like you have automatically outgrown being an infant just because you’re now “ten months old”.



Of course, the fact that you’re now walking has a lot to do with it. You’re not an infant because you’re a “toddler” – you’re toddling all over the dang place. A few months back, Dada and I were struggling to turn around your car seats and readjust the straps. Neither of us could figure out why they wouldn’t get any longer. I was about the label them crap when Dada says, “Do you think she’s an infant or a toddler?” That was a strange realization. Now, it just fits.

Anne, when she shared with me her excitement at Eleanor walking, was amazed at how quickly it happened. She was right on. One month ago, you would take a few tentative steps Frankenstein’s monster-style: your legs rigid, feet flat and thumping with each step. A week went by and it was a few more steps, this time more quickly because you had to get there before you lost your balance. Your grins at your accomplishment were so self-satisfied. Now, you refuse to locomote any other way.



I think the best – and maybe the worst – thing to come out of all this walking is your independence. You know you can get where you want, when you want. This is so unbelievably great because I can leave your immediate presence without you crying! If you want to get me, you come and get me. If you want to see what I’m doing (usually going to the bathroom – hey, as long as it encourages your future potty training), you come over and watch.

And, not only can I move about the house more freely, but you regularly leave my side to go exploring. The kitchen cupboards hold a wealth of treasures for your little fingers. Your favorite items are my silicone cutting boards and, of course, the Rubbermaid food storage. They’re so easy to carry around, after all.



I have learned one valuable lesson as a parent, that has really paid off in the past month. You have to tell your child “No.” And mean it. Just wait – when you’re getting ready for your first child, you will read all sorts of conflicting opinions on disciplining babies. You’ll naturally feel guilty the first time you “make” your baby cry. Heck, when we first started dolling it out you would pucker up every time! But “No!” is a wonderful tool.

Dada and I know for certain that “No!” was the first word you understood, and boy are we glad now. Why spend all sorts of money on baby-proofing gadgets (there’s no such thing as “baby-proof”, by the way) when “No!” is free and works so well? Sure, we bought and installed baby gates. We covered all the outlets (though, a few No’s later you don’t bother). But we have a whole box of cabinet latches yet to be installed. We haven’t padded the fireplace, the coffee table, anything. A week of being told “No!” and physically moved when you touched the TV, and you stay away.

It’s awesome.

Love,
Momma

Bottom's up!

Should moms drink in front of their kids during playdates? That’s the new “hot topic”, apparently. When I heard about this “issue” on Blogging Baby a couple months back, I was a tad irritated. To say the least. One more thing that moms are pressured about, scrutinized for. One more way we’re supposed to be these robotic, self-sacrificing, Madonnas. Now, the author of one of my daily reads – the creator of the Momtini – has been put on the media chopping block for her stance. You can check out the video here.

I could rant all day about how I think that, yes, it is okay for moms to have a drink or two around their kids. It wouldn’t get me anywhere. The bigger question is: why is it even a question?

One of Melissa’s commenters rightfully asked why everyone is so concerned about what women are doing around their kids. Because I can guarantee you that no one bats an eye at the dads sharing a couple of brewskies while they watch the game with their kids. Or grill in the backyard. Aren’t they responsible for caring for their children? As was asked in the article, who would drive to the hospital if one of the kids was hurt? But that’s not compelling. And, lest we forget, it is women who are independently and individually responsible for raising perfectly well-adjusted human beings.

Okay, that last bit is a whole other post.

The other guest, the psychologist, kept arguing over the issue of using alcohol as a coping mechanism. Are there some people – men and women – who do that? Yes. Is it healthy? Maybe, maybe not. But, I don’t think that’s the point here. The few times I’ve had a drink in front of Zoë, it’s not been to unwind or de-stress. It is because I am an adult who enjoys a glass of wine with a good meal or a frosty beer on a hot day. Just like I enjoy an icy cold Coca-Cola with a bucket of popcorn at the movie theater. We are talking about a beverage choice that most women, and men, are capable of making. To paint all mothers who drink as alcoholics who cannot control their drinking is ridiculous and insulting. It is also awfully infantilizing (see Dr. Janet? I’m a shrink, too!).

There’s another point in there: I am an adult. I did not give up my status as an individual because I had a child. Do I still have carte blanche to do whatever I please whenever I please? No, of course not. But a beverage here or there? Give me a break.

I’ll admit – I’ve never had a “Three-Martini Playdate”, though I did buy the book. That’s really only because I’ve yet to have a playdate that wasn’t a trip to the mall. And, I’m not much of a drinker anyway. But, the idea doesn’t bother me. And, more importantly, it’s not my business to say what another reasonable mom can or cannot do.

Could we get back to talking about something we know harms children, just by doing it in their presence? You know, smoking? Or, hey, what about the scarcity of quality, affordable daycare? How about the cost of routine immunizations? You get the idea.

No child was harmed in the photograph above. Teething babies like cold objects - say a frosty beer can that rolls out of the fridge during a male-adult beverage run. "Irresponsible" mommies just think it's cute.

Back to work

I can’t believe I’m saying it, but thank goodness. Sort of. Here’s the thing: I love being home with my daughter. I don’t really need to go into the why of that because I think I already have. Ad nauseum. But . . .

Darn it, she wears me out! And, granted that it’s not much different than when BJ’s working and I’m home alone. Don't get me wrong - he’s absolutely great with her, but I’m the mommy. It’s just more irritating, I guess, to be the primary caregiver when there’s a constant reminder that someone else is there. And, it’s nice to have something else to occupy my thoughts and time other than Zoë.

Besides, have I mentioned that she’s cutting down her naps? What am I going to do this summer? Any good recommendations from the other momma’s out there (she’ll be 14 months in May)?

Project 365 - #1

A long-awaited plate of Chinese food. Happy New Year!