The miserable baby and the happy toddler

A child holds all the cards. Pulls all the strings. Pushes all the buttons. It's amazing the power they have.

Addison just turned 21 months old a few days ago. Only 3 more months until she's 2. I can't believe I have a (nearly) two year old running my life. She's just starting to come in to herself too. What I mean by this is I really believe she did not like being an infant. She was born a do-er, not a be done to. She was mostly miserable from birth to, oh, I'd say about 9 or 10 months old. But now! Now is when she's really blossoming into her little body. She embraces toddlerhood. She can do things now, and boy does she ever!

Climbing is her new facination. The higher the better. She does her little Flying Wallendas acts by balancing on the middle bar of her bike...usually while wearing slippery socks and for good measure she will extend one leg out, so she's just balancing on one leg while holding onto the handlebars. My child of few words will say "fall" while looking at me with her huge blue eyes and grinning ear to ear. All the while I'm trying to ignore her. I used to say "no, you'll fall" and she just giggle and seem to stretch higher on her tippy toes just to show me that yes, she could do it and would.

Another trick of hers is to stand on the arm of the couch and slowly rise. She of course is looking at us to see our reaction and as soon as we get up she'll fall in a fit of laughter to the cushions. *sigh* A few times she has wiped out, cried, we kiss her boo-boos and off she goes again. "No" is definitely not a word that works with her unless she's the one saying it.

Anyway, that was a bit off my topic for today. What I wanted to write about is my miserable infant and the happy toddler. As a baby, Addison did not like to be held or cuddled. She wanted her space. Her personal boundary stretched very far away from her. She'd push you away. I could never hold her before I put her down to bed because she'd squirm until I'd practically drop her. She didn't want to be sung to either. I got the message that I was bothering her. You could never get a hug or a kiss. She was a tense mass whenever she was being held.

What a difference a year makes. My child has been known to kiss people she barely knows. In the mornings, Greg usually gets her morning routine going while I'm finishing up getting ready for work. I find myself waiting behind the bedroom door so when she's done, she'll bust into the room. I have my arms stretched out and she runs to me to give me a hug. She runs to me! The last few weeks she's even put her head on my shoulder and completely relaxes. I don't even want to put her down. At bedtime (as long as blankie is there) she will relax as well. She rests on me while I hold her and sing to her, sucking her thumb and holding on to blankie. She's learning how to give a proper hug and I cherish those few extra seconds she'll give me when I'm holding her. A precious moment when she'll stop from playing to come over and rest her head on my lap...and even more precious when you get the random kiss. It's the most amazing experience...the love of a child.

For the Love of Elmo

So, I find ourselves immersed in images of Elmo. We have Elmo on probably at least a dozen of Addison's clothes. We have numerous Elmo dolls, plush, plastic and even one she can take a bath with. The wallpaper on her computer (yes, I said her computer) has the huge fuzzy red guy. We endlessly play videos of Elmo for her on our iPhones.

Why?

The videos keep her occupied and happy. When we took her to Urgent Care a few months ago, she took a 5 minute breathing treatment like a pro...because she could watch Elmo. My child barely says any words, but I think one of her first was "Elmo"...though it sounded more like elbow. Everytime we see him in a store we have to head the other way just so she won't see him and cry for him. She sees him on the big tv and she stops what she's doing so she can watch. She'll point at him and say his name. Does she do this with anything else? Hardly.

Most of all, we bought the clothes because she was kissing him everytime we'd pass an outfit with his bright red image blazing. How can I not buy clothes that she kisses? She won't willingly kiss me...but she will kiss Elmo, no questions asked.

That is why Elmo lines my living room walls and Addison's closet. She loves him. Truly loves him. How could I not indulge her? She kisses him, for crying out loud. He has her wrapped around his fuzzy finger. Elmo is her God. Who am I to deny that? For now, Elmo will be everywhere as long as she breaks out in grins and giggles whenever she sees him. It's the most delightful thing.

Dilbert

The Absence of Time

I've been functioning without a watch or clock in my car for months now. It's a strange experience not having the time immediately within sight for me. I've always been very vigilant about keeping time. I hate being late for appointments and some part of me always had the need to have the time under control as much as possible.

Since not having it, I've had to adapt. Mostly, I've had to give up that control. I haven't felt as anxious going somewhere and making sure that I make it "on the dot" since I can't see the dot. Don't get me wrong, I still try to be on time, but I've had to rely on my inner clock. That absurd inner clock that allows me to know what time it is just by looking at the position of the sun and the haze in the sky. I don't know why. It's a weird quirk I possess. I get it wrong occasionally, but I don't think I've ever been off more than a half an hour.

Anyway, the clock is gone and I feel fine. I still make my appointments...it's okay if I'm a minute late and I actually can pat myself on the back for being close. It's a strange phenomenon. I miss my time sometimes, but for the most part, I'm okay with it. I know my child will make me late nearly everywhere I go, so I guess this is training for that so I don't completely fall apart later.

So, try it. Go without your watch for a week. Cover your car clock. (I don't recommend you turn your alarm off though - bosses aren't on board with this just yet). Just drive around for a day not knowing what time it is ever. It's a freeing experience, I'll tell ya.

Happy travels!

The Profoundness of Changes

It's always funny how everything has such profound meaning when you're making a big change. Friday was my last day at my current job. I've been there 13 1/2 years. That's a long time. It was rough and a little strange. I could feel my sadness coming on in my gut and it would only take someone simply asking how the day was going for me to completely fall apart. It was pretty ridiculous. I mean, how many people get emotional over the last time they may ever see that vending machine. Remember how it was before they switched to this one? And the water dispenser. I remember the days before we had the water dispenser. It was my friend while I was pregnant since I had to drink so much water. Ah, good old water dispenser machine. They probably won't have one like it where I'm going.

On my way to the going-away party my friends were having for me, I listened to my iPod to try to get my mind off things. All of a sudden, the words which I don't usually pay much attention to (I'm a melody kind of girl) start filling my ears. Uh oh. Here come the waterworks again. Natasha Bedingfield, who does not normally invoke much emotion in me other than the slight bopping she creates with her boppy sound, has made me cry. Here are the lyrics:

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you

Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten

I guess when you're paying attention, it starts to make more sense. Now is where my book begins. I've closed one book which was my entire beginning adult life. I made all my major life changes at my (now) previous job. Made all my friends. It was all neatly compacted under one large roof. I lived there...except weekends and evenings, of course, when I had visitations with my own home...but my life was there. My memories were there. Now I'm writing a whole new book. All those beginning things are over. What's in store now? Just living my life? How odd. I guess I'm really an adult now. Isn't that a wake up call. Whew.

Well, I will miss the familiarity. I will miss all my friends. I will miss what my job used to be. I grieved what it was a long time ago. Had moved on emotionally, but was just stuck physically. Now, that physical barrier is gone and I've got a whole new life ahead of me. A frightening prospect, but I guess it's time.

Now my daughter wants me to read "Baby and Friends", so off I go.

"Three little ducklings say quack, quack, quack"...