Baby steps
I’ll always remember the day he took his first steps.
Correction – the day he took his first real steps. The week or so after he turned one, there were a couple fumbling half-steps here and there and while my eyes went wide, I knew they were accidental.
The first real steps were the ones where he was fully aware of what he was doing, that he was here and wanted to go there and gosh darn it, he was gonna hoof it. As it happened, it was his six-year-old cousin’s birthday party and everyone was there. He had his entire family around him cheering him on.
I’ll always remember it, but of course, we didn’t quite capture that exact moment on video. And every day since, as I’ve watched him gain more and more confidence, my heart is too busy swelling and my eyes too busy glowing with delight to remember to pull out the camera.
I finally had the sense to do it today, and not a moment too soon. He won’t be toddling about so unsteadily for long.
It’s so beautiful, so adorable. And yes, so bittersweet too. Who is this little boy and where’s my wee babe? And why is he walking away from me so soon?
What really, truly matters
Every day when I get home from work, there are lots of things I really should do (like clear the furniture of its inch-thick layer of dust) and lots of other things I want to do (like blog). But most of the time, I put it all off to do something with Tooshie instead.
And… I don’t feel guilty about it anymore.
It took me awhile to get to this point but I’m finally here. He’s teaching me to throw my whole heart into loving the little things. He’s teaching me to live in the moment. He’s showing me what really, truly matters.
Before he came into my life, I read lots of books on how to do this and thought I “got it” but I really didn’t. Until now.
Thanks, Toosh.
A new chapter
From Letters to Baby*.
Sunday, May 8, 2011 { you are 11 months old }
Dearest, dearest Tooshie,
Today is Mother’s Day – my first Mother’s Day all because of you. I know it’s been awhile since I wrote you a letter but each time I thought of it, the words got caught in my throat. I have months and months of things to tell you about yourself but don’t worry, they’re filed away in the back of my mind for whenever you may want them (and not that far back either… I access them for my own gratification much more often than you’ll ever guess).
Today is Mother’s Day and it’s almost your first birthday too. Incidentally, I go back to work tomorrow. So today a chapter of our lives is ending and oh Tooshie, I am so very, very sad.
When people asked me during the first six months of your life if I could imagine going back to work, quite frankly, I could. Honey, you were not an easy baby. Those first six months were steeped in so many tears, both yours and mine, that we could have opened our own salt mine. I was so frustrated with you sometimes – why won’t you fall asleep without me? why won’t you stay asleep? why won’t you nap? why won’t you sit still like other kids? why won’t you be quiet? And I say “won’t” because even then it was clear, at least to me, that you were acting on personal preferences rather than abilities. Yes, even that early, you knew what you liked and what you wanted and Lord help the person who tried to convince you otherwise… (i.e. me).
But the second six months of your life? Or more accurately, months 7 through the present? Around then, which was Christmastime, your body started to catch up to your mind and you began to roll. The rolling turned into crouching and crouching to rocking and rocking to crawling and then, at month 9-almost-10, you were standing up using any piece of furniture or nearby pant-leg you could reach.
Life–for both of us–changed dramatically at that point.
When I put you down to try to tend to the hundred-and-one things I needed to do that didn’t involve holding you (approximately ninety-four of which never got done), instead of looking at me forlornly and whining and wailing your discontent at being left stranded in a bouncy chair in the middle of our living room carpet, you got on your knees and followed me. I’d walk to the kitchen and you’d pad along after me. Upstairs, I’d travel from washing machine to bedroom to washing machine again and you’d shuffle after me back and forth – panting, and often sweaty-headed after a couple trips – but content.
That simple ability made you so happy. And me? I am so, so happy too. Since Christmas, each month’s blissful moments have multiplied exponentially to the point where I almost forget how incredibly irritated and frustrated and despondent I was sometimes in the earlier days. (Almost, but not quite. Yet.)
Life for the last couple of months has been amazing. YOU have been amazing. I know every parent must go through this but knowing that doesn’t lessen the wonder we feel when we see you do things for the first time – like when you were able to put your soother in your mouth by yourself; when you started playing catch with us using any ball you could get your hands on; when you started to be able to pick up pieces of bread and take small, deliberate bites instead of stuffing the whole fistfull of whatever into your mouth (which you still do too, because it’s fun); when you made noise and then patted the back of your hand against your mouth to make a wa-wa-wa-wa noise (you do that a lot); when you started pointing at pictures in books and babbling to yourself; when you started to fake laugh (which will come in handy living with parents such as yours, I’m sure); when you learned how to high-five (ciocia Patti taught you), clap your hands bravo (babcia taught you) and wave bye-bye (still inconsistent but we’re working on it). And when you lean your forehead against mine for a sweet, quiet moment or lean over with an open-mouthed kiss, I melt.
And you said your first real word. You had been making the sounds for some time but I wasn’t sure you were saying what you were saying because it was just a long string of the same syllable over and over and really, maybe you just liked the noise? But then one day in March when your babcia was visiting us for two weeks, I was in the kitchen and you were in the living room playing when you looked up and saw I wasn’t beside you anymore, so you put your head down and pad-pad-padded determinedly across the carpet and onto the tiles until you were right up next to me, and you sat up on your heels and looked up at me and said clear as a bell, “Mama”. My heart stopped and babcia and I looked at each other because finally there was no mistaking it. You now also say “dada” and “baba” (for babcia), the latter of which undoubtedly is due to the hours of coaching you received from a certain doting relative during her two weeks here in March and our recent 2.5 weeks stay at El Rancho.
I think that’s the other thing that’s made such a difference in the last few months. In addition to be able to GO where you want, you and I have been able to understand each other so much better. I get most of your babbles and gestures and shrieks and facial expressions and you get most of mine (except when I say “Setouche, NO!” when you get your paws on the dvd player and XBox buttons). We understand each other and while you’ve always been a little person to me, now your personality is so much stronger. Where I used to resent the fact you couldn’t be anywhere but right next to me 24/7, I now understand it’s because that’s just the way you are – you’re just an incredibly affectionate, cuddly, intense little guy who loves his mama and dad soooo much he can’t bear to be apart from them.
When I think of leaving you with your nanny tomorrow for the first time, my heart breaks. Truly. I’m having a hard time writing it, even. I know it will be good for me, on so many levels, and good for you too, in so many ways.
But I can’t push away the feeling that keeps fighting its way to the surface of my tears: the feeling that after having created you, carried you, nourished you, given birth to you, looked after you, comforted you, guided you, shielded you, taught you, and loved you, for almost two entire years, handing you over to someone else just feels… wrong.
I suppose that’s what being a mother is, in the end. Doing all those things and having to let go, too. I hope I get better at the letting go part one day because Tooshie, I know this is only the beginning and we have a long, long way to go.
I love you so much my heart aches but in that “good pain” kind of way. You are already someone so very different from anyone I’ve ever known, and so very, very special. I may be 33 years old and you’re only (almost) one, but I love you like I’ve known you all my life which, really, I kind of have. You’ve always been a part of me in some way none of us can put into words.
I’m already so proud of you that I’m almost frightened to see what happens next. How could you possibly be any funnier, cleverer, handsomer or sweeter??
I love you, my little Tooshie-too. I kinda wish you could stay little forever but I’m also excited to see what happens next. It’s bittersweet.
All my love,
Mama
*I have a private place where I’ve been writing letters to our baby. This is an excerpt.
#reverb10 – day 11
December 11 – 11 Things What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these 11 things change your life? (Author: Sam Davidson)
1. Guilt about not getting everything done on my to-do list. Stop making so many to-do lists… even in my head. Those ones count too.
2. Books bought and cluttering up our small home. Keep going to the library… and convince husband that an e-reader really isn’t such a bad idea.
3. Those last five pounds of stubborn baby weight. Keep eating well and forcing myself to go for walks every day – even when it’s raining.
4. Spur-of-the-moment purchases. Start using the iXpenseit app on my phone again to drive home how much of my spending is truly frivolous.
5. Free crap. Just say no – to free product samples, free pens and trinkets from tradeshows, free crappy stuff we don’t really need.
6. Dust. Create a house cleaning schedule (just a little each day!) and stick to it.
7. Ten million newsletters. Take time to unsubscribe from things I don’t read anymore.
8. Twenty million blogs. I know I keep thinking that one day I’ll get to them, but I never do. Take time to unsubscribe from the ones I’ll never read.
9. Wrinkles. Ok so I can’t eliminate them but I can delay new ones.Get better acquainted with sunscreen.
10. iPhoto. It’s so annoying when I have to email photos and it’s a complete mess, anyway. Make time to reorganize things and going back to Picasa.
11. Worrying about people. Remember that they’re grownups and can figure it out themselves, and worrying about it won’t help anyone.
How will eliminating these things change my life? It’ll improve it, of course. But only slightly. In thinking about this prompt, I’ve realized how happy I am with my life as it is. And that’s about as good as it gets.
Learn more about this project at reverb10.com.
#reverb10 – day 10
December 10 – Wisdom Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out? (Author: Susannah Conway)
Decisions, decisions, decisions. This entire year was nothing but. Having a baby is like that – every time you pat yourself on the back for having finally decided on something, there are twelve more things to decide on.
What baby stuff to buy, where to give birth, how to give birth, who to have there, when to stop working, when to start working, what color to paint, what to eat, what to read, what to ignore, when to say yes, when to say no and when to let go and just be. Then you have the baby and it’s when to feed them, how often to change diapers, how to make them sleep, to use a pacifier or not, where to ask for help and when to admit you have no idea in hell what you are doing. Mostly the last one.
You get the idea.
When I think of being wise or using wisdom, I somehow always assume that it’s based on experience. After all, aren’t the wisest men (and women) old, and isn’t it because they have seen the most, done the most, and therefore learned the most?
Most decisions I made this year were made not based on wisdom. Research, yes. Weighing pros and cons, yes. Seeking advice of others, definitely. Wisdom? Well, seeing as I had absolutely ZERO experience in the baby department… no.
So I don’t think I have an answer for this one. Ask me again when I have a second kid.
Learn more about this project at reverb10.com
#reverb10 – day 9
December 9 – Party Prompt: Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans. (Author: Shauna Reid)
Despite the fact I was almost six months pregnant and didn’t partake in the traditional (read: nighttime booze-soaked) festivities, the two weeks that the Olympics were going on here in Vancouver, it felt like a party every day. There was a certain buzz in the air. Everywhere you went downtown, you floated in a sea of red and white. Restaurants and stores were packed but rather than being annoying, it only added to the excitement in the air. People smiled at each other on the street. Cameras were everywhere. And somehow it felt like family – like we were all connected, Vancouverites and visitors alike.
For me, the ultimate party was the closing ceremonies. The opening ceremonies were amazing – being an Athlete Marshall, I was just a few feet away from the athletes when they proudly marched in and that was undescribably cool. But the closing ceremonies, with its concert atmosphere, Michael Buble mountie and floating moose and beavers, felt like a crazy, kooky celebration. Once the ceremonies were over and the TV cameras were shut off, gigantic illuminated bouncing balls were released into the crowd and all us volunteers melted into the middle to mingle with the celebrating athletes. There was a sense of wild joy that was contagious. Of course there were after-celebrations at all the bars downtown but this little preggo was happy to go home and to bed. Being a part of it all was party enough for me.
Photos by Matt Corker
#reverb10 – days 7,8
December 7 – Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011? (Author: Cali Harris)
The moment I had a baby, my participation in my online community of blogger friends disappeared like chocolate in a room full of pregnant women. In fact, my participation in ANY community disappeared for a good couple of months. But eventually I felt brave enough to venture into the unknown with my wailing, pooping and barfing baby (at least, it seemed like that’s all he did when we were in public and it counted) and tried to find other mommies to hang with. It was on the advice of a wise gal who’d begun the path of motherhood just a few months before me that I did it at all, because if I’d have been left to my own devices, I’d have been happy as a clam to continue my solo marathon stroller walks along the seawall. At least for a while longer, anyway. But she was so right – seeing others struggling with the same things I was was SO cathartic… and continues to be.
There are a several mommies that I am in touch with, and I’m grateful for all of them because they’re so different. One is a group of gals (and one dad!) from our prenatal class. At first I thought we couldn’t be more different from each other – how on earth was this going to work? But it turns out we are united in our weird sense of humor, our easy-going attitudes and our tolerance for others who are not doing the exact same type of mothering. Which is SUCH a relief, considering the kinds of mommy drama that’s out there.
Another is a group of cool gals from a baby-group led by the community health nurses; we literally ran into each other at a coffee shop before group one day and laughed because every single one of us had the exact same stroller. Same tastes… how could we not get along? These gals are the type of moms who are always in the know when it comes to the best baby products and most fun ideas of things to do and places to go with baby; they’re amazing researchers and since most of their babes are two months older than Tooshie, I learn a lot just by checking in at their Facebook group page. (That’s another thing… they’re super organized!)
Then I have a few “onesie” friends: girls who I hang out with – or, as in the case of my brother’s wife, talk to on the phone every couple of days – just the two of us. These are the girls to whom I tell the everyday goofy stuff Tooshie does, and to whom I pour my heart out (and sometimes cry) about the tough parts of being a mom (and oooh, there are many).
Keeping up with this real-life community of moms – not to mention all my other real-life friends and family and oh, right… my husband, too – takes up all my time and then some. I always feel like I’m behind in catching up with people, so it goes without saying (though I’m going to say it anyway [I always thought that was a funny phrase]) that I’ve pretty much completely lost touch with my community of ‘online’ friends. I’d like to re-cultivate those relationships in 2011, while maintaining my real-life ones. Tall order, I know. Ah well. I consider myself an optimist.
December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond)
This is a tough one because in my generation, if you give yourself props, other people are going to call you stuck up and snooty and all manner of other less-polite things (and even if other people give you props you get that… flashback high school). I’m making myself sound old but seriously, have you not noticed that all the kids today are always “I rock!” and “I can do anything better than anyone”, even when (sorry to say) they don’t?? But I’m getting off topic.
I think what makes me different is my tendency to look for the good in every thing and everyone, and my enthusiasm for simple things that bring joy.
I’m the person who will introduce herself and invite you to lunch on your first day at work.
I’m the coworker who will set up booby traps on your desk while you’re away on vacation, and hang slightly tacky dollar-store decorations all over the office at Christmas.
I’m the one who will wear a Halloween costume even though I’d be one of only three people who do.
I send birthday cards via snail mail and get super excited when the power goes out.
I love impromptu french fry excursions and long distance phone calls and exchanging smiles with strangers on the street and the smell of Windex (because it means my house is clean!).
I make up super dorky songs for Baby Tooshie (i.e. to the tune of Spiderman: “Pampy time, pampy time; It is Tooshie’s pampy time; Lift the legs, under the bum; That is how it is done; Look out! It is pampy tiiiiiime!”). Told you they were dorky. And I dance along to them too.
I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.
I’ll be there for you if you just ask.
And I’ll sing every word to every Christmas song on the radio, even if you cover your ears and say you hate Christmas songs… especially if you say you hate Christmas songs (’cause we all know that’s impossible).
I used to think these things were really just super cheesy and slightly embarrassing but thanks to my husband, I now realize the value of cheese.
———-
Wondering what the heck this is all about? Find out at reverb10.com
A few more beautifully different people:
#reverb10 – days 1,2,3,4,5,6
I’m a bit late to this party but better late than never.
Better late than never. It sounds so simple but it’s something I’ve always struggled with, and never more so than since I had a baby.
I like to start things when they’re supposed to start. Do things when they’re supposed to be done. Some call it perfectionism. I (after years of denial) admit that it’s actually procrastination. Because if I don’t start them or do them on the “right” day or at the “right” time, they get postponed. And you know what happens then: anxiety levels rise and a sense of pervasive uneasiness settles on your shoulders. Ugh.
So I’m going to just jump in and do things this next year. It will probably be messy and it will definitely not be up to my personal (silly!) standards but it will be DONE. And there’s no better way to start than this – #reverb10 – a project of self-reflection. It started six days ago. But that’s ok. Better late than never.
December 1 – One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? (Author: Gwen Bell)
My first thought when I read this was: SLEEP. I know, totally boring, right? I wish it was something cooler and more… existential. But, if you’re a mother you know exactly why. For the first five months of this year while I was still pregnant, I couldn’t get enough of the stuff. It became increasingly uncomfortable and downright painful near the end but it was still glorious. Then the baby was born and I fell into a deep despair: I was convinced I’d never sleep more than two hours in a row EVER AGAIN. Then the baby got older and I obsessed about how many times he woke up during the night and how many minutes he napped during the day (actually, I still do). And now that he sleeps through the night (usually), I don’t… because I’m trying to do the hundred and one things I didn’t get done during the day. Sleep is beautiful and it is a paradox. I can’t have it and then when I can, I push it away.
I hope 2011 brings BALANCE. I’d like to be better at balancing baby time and family time and friend time and housework time and real work time (because I’ll be going back) and personal growth time and good ol’ kickin’ back and being me time. Oh, and all this while enjoying sleep time, too.
December 2 – Writing. What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it? (Author: Leo Babauta)
1. Take care of/ play with/ teach/ enjoy baby. No I can’t eliminate it and I wouldn’t want to.
2. Blog reading and Facebooking. Yes, if I cut back on this I’m sure I’d magically find the time to write that I keep complaining I don’t have. These are my procrastinating tools. What I need to find is the strength to not procrastinate. And why do I procrastinate? Because (a) part of me is afraid the final product won’t be nearly as good as it “should be”, and (b) even after years of blogging, I still get nervous putting myself out there. Oh sure, I have things to say. Too many, some might say (ahem, Mr Fink). But while I blog in my mind several times a day, they never make it to you because I wimp out. And that’s the truth. They say admitting it is the first step to fixing it but I admitted this to myself a year ago and I’m still struggling with it. Maybe I need to find a different approach, like forcing myself to write on a schedule. I’m afraid doing that will turn writing into a chore though, rather than a pleasure. And that is about the worst thing that could happen. So I’m stuck.
December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)
It happened just a couple weeks ago: Vancouver got a snow day. And if you don’t live here, you probably won’t realize the intensity of those words alone. It rarely snows here, let alone snows buckets, so no matter where you were or whether you hated snow or loved it, it was an event of massive proportions. I bundled Tooshie up and stuck him in the carrier and out we ventured into the white. After meeting up with my sister-in-law and neice, Tooshie and I headed home. But we didn’t go home. The softly falling flakes, the smooshy sound under my boots (rain boots… ’cause that’s what Vancouverites wear when it snows), the crispy air, and the electric brightness of everything, it filled me to overflowing with joy and I just couldn’t bring myself to go back inside. Instead, we walked around the neighbourhood. Fat, wet snowflakes fell and covered Tooshie’s booted feet, Christmas music was blaring in my earphones and my heart swelled in my chest as I crunched along and grinned to myself at the sight of kiddies building snowmen in the park and a dude shoveling snow in his shorts. I imagined us next year – instead of carrying him around, Toosh and I would be sledding and building snowmen too! I smiled at everyone I passed and they all smiled back at me; we were complicit in our complete and blissful satisfaction of that messy, snow day. I thought, ‘This. This is what it’s all about.’ It still gives me goosebumps to think about it.
December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Author: Jeffrey Davis)
I didn’t have to cultivate a sense of wonder this year – it hit me like a bus the day I gave birth. Another human being – one that didn’t ever exist – is alive… looks and breathes and smiles and laughs and learns and loves… all because of me and my husband. We did this. There is nothing more wondrous than that. I am in awe every day.
December 5 – Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why? (Author: Alice Bradley)
Lists. I used to be a list maker. Lists of things to do, items to buy, people to call, ideas to write about, stuff to research, books to read, movies to see, moments to remember.
The funniest and most ridiculous was a list of Things to Do During My One Year Maternity Leave. This list had all sorts of seemingly do-able things on it. After all, I’d be off work for a year!! Plenty of time to: 1. Create a wedding photo album (two years after the wedding… er…); 2. Learn how to Photoshop; 3. Self-host and redesign my blog; 4. Create personalized Christmas cards; 5. Create a baby photo book; 6. Turn my wedding blog posts into a book; 7. Scrapbook; 8. Print and frame photos for our home; 9. Find us a new home; 10. Learn how to knit something other than scarves; and many, many, MANY other things that, at 3 in the morning, seem incredibly important.
I haven’t yet succeeded completely but I’ve made some headway in letting go of my listy mentality. As my sage mother keeps telling me: “The most important thing right now is your baby – make sure he is happy and healthy and don’t worry about anything else. Enjoy every moment with him because that’s the stuff you’ll remember, not the little things”. And she’s so right. So I’m trying hard every day to do just that.
December 6 – Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it? (Author: Gretchen Rubin)
I can’t for the life of me remember the last thing I made. Does sewing up a ripped pillow cushion count? No? Hmm. Then I suppose it was the lamp I tried to repair. It’s one of those Ikea things with the rice-papery shade. The paper ripped so I bought some material and tried to replace it. It was pretty much a disaster – the material ended up all uneven and lumpy and I hot-glued my fingers together. I don’t want to spend money on new, nice lamps because one day we’ll move and I don’t yet know what style I’ll want to decorate in, so, sadly, the hideously refurbished Ikea lamp is still in our living room. Every time I turn it on, I cringe.
I really want to make a mobile for the baby’s room. The problem is, the baby’s six months old already. I got all the materials I need and I have a general idea of how I want to put it together but I just can’t seem to find time to make it. I’m afraid he’ll grow out of needing a mobile before I get around to it.
———-
Learn more about this project at reverb10.com
All I want for Christmas is…
Time.
I want more of it.
Which sounds positively ludicrous, seeing as how I’m on maternity leave. But if you have a baby, you know what I’m talking about.
I blog every day in my head but sadly, it never makes it to the screen. But at least you know I’m thinking of you.
My husband and his family have been amazing at looking after Tooshie whenever I’ve had to get some things done, but I think my New Years resolution will be to make more “time for me”, which in Kasia terms means: some time where I get to just be alone and write. Because that makes me happy (and a happy mommy means a happy baby!).
In the meantime, here’s a tiny snippet of what’s been happening:
Tooshie turned six months old!…
…and started eating solids (and LOVING them. Seriously. He grunts eagerly between bites.)
We went to Whistler…
… where daddy bought him a hat that makes me want to EAT him.
We came back home where it snowed buckets (verrrry odd for Vancouver)…
and I gave in and finally cut my hair (it was all falling out anyway).
It would be nice to have time to fill in the blanks but this’ll have to do for now. Although it makes me anxious and irritable that I don’t have time to do all the things I want to do every day, I’m trying to heed my mom’s advice. She says I should enjoy every moment of every day because “they go by so quickly and one day soon you’ll look back and wish you were where you are now, when Touche-touche was just a baby; your most important job is to make him happy so don’t worry about everything else, just worry about that”.
I know she’s right. So I’m trying hard to follow her advice and not sweat the small stuff (which is HARD). And yes, it is going by so quickly — I can hardly believe half a year (and half my mat leave!!) is over already.
This age is my favorite so far — he laughs and giggles all the time, is fun to feed, sleeps through the night, sits up and plays with toys all by himself, wears cute big boy clothes, rarely cries (unless you’re trying to make him nap), and gets cuter by the day.
The next six months are going to be the best six months yet. I’m reminding myself each day that the glass is really half full, not empty.
Three, four and five months
Baby Fink finished five months yesterday and you know that silly old cliche of all cliches, “Time flies”? Well it turns out it’s not so silly after all. I finally get it. And I am convinced that the person who coined it had children. Probably many.
I took some photos of him today but I just realized I never did get around to posting the ones from his three and four month-days so we’ll play catch up a bit first. In case you want to go further back, here he is at one month and at two months.
At three months:
I also took the opportunity to capture him that day in his funky shoes. I know some people think shoes for babies are ridiculous and yes, I used to be one of those people. But I have since been converted. I mean, look at these puppies (from my lovely friend Tiffany; shoes by Joe Fresh). Aren’t they awesome? I am so sad he’s outgrown them.
And at four months:
It’s probably not too obvious from the photos but Touche* experienced a DRAMATIC change from months three to four.
Not only did he go from being my little brown boy to my little blonde boy (yesss! he finally is starting to look like me a tiny bit), but he went from co-sleeping with me in bed to sleeping alone in his crib (HUGE!), from having to fall asleep on the boob to not (EQUALLY HUGE!!), from having to be walked in his ErgoBaby carrier for naps to napping in his crib (CAPITAL LETTERS AND EXCLAMATION MARKS DO NOT DO THIS HUGENESS JUSTICE!!!) and goodness, so many other things (but those are the biggest ones). My life as a mother (and my sanity) did a complete one-eighty and I can’t begin to tell you how much better life is with a sleep-trained** four-month old than a three-month-old. I read all that stuff about the first three months of your baby’s life being equal to a fourth trimester and it didn’t really register until that trimester came to an end. It really was a huge leap for both of us.
So now we’ve just finished five months. A few more weeks and he’ll be half a year old… and my maternity leave will be half over. Yikes.
At five months, Touche-touche* has become the uber-smiley and giggly person I knew he was destined to be. He rolled over a few times at three months and seems to not be too interested in it any more (been there, done that?); he has learned to love his stroller walks and even falls asleep in it at nap times (thank God… oh my aching back!!); he recognizes his favorite people and grins ear to ear when he sees them (he especially loves his cousins G and D); and he now has two teeth poking through (the first one came in at exactly four months – how crazy is that?!). He is such a funny, funny little dude which doesn’t surprise us at all, considering the dorky parents unto whom he was born.
It’s really true that every day, it gets a little bit easier and a little bit more wonderful.
We’ve finally fallen into a groove and I don’t doubt myself as a mother any more. Sometimes I wish this mama-of-a-five-month-old me could go back and tell the mama-of-a-newborn me how much better it would be very soon and to just hang in there. But then, I wouldn’t have learned what I learned, and become as strong as I’ve become.
Every day we both learn something new. And I start every day by expressing gratitude for my adorable, hilarious baby. Finally. This is what it was supposed to be like! Oh, what a life.
*About the nickname. It came about in the first month Baby Fink was born; there is no Polish version of the name we’d chosen for him so my mom invented her own Polish-sounding version of it. That got shortened to “Touche” (or, “Toosh”, as in the way you’d pronounce the cutesy name for your behind. My university Linguistics courses have evidently not made a lasting impact so I can’t spell it phonetically; I guess it’s because of our French language backgrounds we spell it Touche). “Touche” evolved into “Touche-touche” or “Tooshie”, and, well, there you have it. It’s stuck like peanut butter to the roof our our mouths. I’m sure he will be very embarrassed by it one day.
**About the sleep training. In August, Touche and I went to my parents’ ranch and we basically did nothing but sleep train for three weeks straight. I’m hesitant to write about it because I’ve found that when you bring up sleep with mothers, someone is bound to get all dagger-eyes at someone else whose baby is sleeping more. But if you want to hear about it, let me know and I’ll do my best.
My name is Kasia Fink and nothing makes me happier than finding goodness. This is a collection of my findings... I mean, finkings.
