March 2010 - Recap

My sweet Baby Natalie ... isn't a baby anymore. This was the first month where I've looked at you and no longer see Baby Natalie. In her place is Toddler Natalie. Who has opinions, thoughts, feelings, attitudes, a sense of humor. How all of that can be contained in your 23-lb self is beyond my understanding. But there you are. In full-on not-a-baby mode.

So I was hoping you'd have more teeth by now. But no dice. Your tooth count remains steady at 4.1 - two on top, two on bottom, and the first inkling of your 3rd top tooth. Your gums have felt swollen for what seems like months, so I'm thinking that one morning, I'll get you from your crib and you'll have a mouth full of teeth. But until then, you have the mouth of a seven-month old.

While you may have the mouth of a seven-month old, you eat like a 14-year-old boy. Good GRACIOUS I had no idea a munchkin could eat so much. For breakfast, you have some plain yogurt that I add fruit into. Most of the time, I mix in frozen peaches with fresh bananas. That and a glass of milk is what I limit you to. Because I'm sure you could put away a few pancakes, some scrambled eggs, and two pieces of toast if I let you. After your morning nap, you have half a cup of sweet potatoes mixed with a little oatmeal. After your snack, we run errands (usually that involves going to Target, Walmart, Publix, TJMaxx, Ross, or any place where you can sit in a shopping cart). Whether you woke up from your morning nap at 9:30am or 10:30am, you're ready for lunch at noon. Sharp. SHARP. You have this incredibly precise internal clock that, if it strikes 12:01pm, you lose your noodle. Your lunch is usually whatever I'm eating (sandwich, soup, pasta, etc) - just a smaller portion. You have a snack when you wake up from your afternoon nap (usually a piece of string cheese or half of a peanut butter sandwich), and, like lunch, you're ready for dinner at promptly 5pm and not a NANOsecond later. Except that I'm not a good planner and I usually have to listen to you screech and wail and gnash your teeth while I fix your dinner.

[You have no patience. Zero. Zilch. Nada. It's, um, less than charming. So that's my goal for April - to teach you patience. Even just a tiny bit would be a marked improvement]

For every meal, I'm always the one who says you're done. You have yet to give me the sign for "all done" - even though I know you can do the sign and I know you know what it means. When I sign "all done", you immediately sign "more". And I have to play the bad cop and say "Nope, all done!" Commence with more screeching, wailing, and gnashing of teeth.

I've talked to the nurse's line about how much you eat and how it seems like a LOT for a 15-month old, but the nurses always reassure me that as long as you're not overweight (you're not), you don't seem in pain when you eat (you don't), you're active and busy when you're not eating or sleeping (oh MY you are), then everything's probably fine. You're burning a lot of calories now that you're fully mobile, so I guess you just need more food to keep you going.

And speaking about more food ... you think that anyone who is eating ANYthing is morally obligated to share it with you. You're all about fairness. You could have just eaten twelve plates of spaghetti and are now playing with your toys, but if Daddy happens to have a slice of cheese (because Daddy? He puts cheese on everything. Everything is con queso au gratin), you immediately toddle over to him and emphatically sign "more". As if you haven't eaten in years. As if Daddy's bite of cheese will save you from near death. Because if Daddy's eating something, then of COURSE Natalie should be eating something too. And heaven help us if you happen to be in the kitchen while we're putting away leftovers (which isn't often, you Human Vacuum, you). You SEE food, you WANT food. Whether you're hungry or not is irrelevant. I'm really trying to teach you better habits. And hopefully they'll sink in.

I bought you an Easter basket last month, and that's been one of your most favorite toys. Granddaddy bought you a deck of playing cards (he's trying to turn you into a poker expert!), and your favorite game is to put the cards into the Easter basket and dump them back out. And clap. It's so cute watching you meticulously decide which cards should go into the basket and which cards don't make the cut. And when you choose that lucky card to go into the basket, you throw it in there, then give yourself a round of applause. 'Ridiculously adorable' is an understatement.

You know the following signs: more, book, eat, please, and sleep. You also throw your arms up in the air when I ask how big you are. While that's not really a sign, it's my all-time favorite trick you do. You have no idea how hysterical you are. Or maybe you do ...

March was the first full month where I didn't nurse you. And I don't know if it's a coincidence or not, but you have been so affectionate this month. Before March, you never liked to snuggle, cuddle, or show any kind of sweetness that wasn't at arm's length. But now? You love giving hugs (prompted and unprompted) and you're pretty good about giving us kisses (which, in your case, still consist of you tilting your head towards us so we can kiss your forehead). You're by no means what one would call 'snuggly', but your leaps and bounds more snuggly than you were a few months ago.

You've gained quite the literary opinion this month. Whereas before, Daddy and I could read you any old book and, though you'd rarely let us finish it, you were pretty amicable the whole time. It's a different story now. Now you'll spend 15 minutes in your room, looking through every book you own, trying to find the one that tickles your fancy. And you haven't learned book-choosing etiquette yet, so instead of selecting a book from your bookshelf, flipping through it, realizing that it's not the one you want, and gently putting it back where you found it ... you dramatically toss each book off your bookshelf, then spread them around, and carefully and methodically go around to each one and examine it. And unfortunately you have been less than happy with the literary choices we've provided. If you give us a book to read, we're lucky if we can get past the first page before you're off rummaging through your Floor O' Books again. And bedtime has turned UGLY. You don't want to sit in the rocking chair with us while we read you a bedtime story because whatever book we choose is wrong. SO wrong. You lurch out of our laps, seemingly annoyed that your parents would DARE try to read THAT book to you. Maybe you're looking for something meatier? Something more than dancing barnyard animals or differing dinosaur emotions? If so, kindly tell us, Critical McCriticalson.

You're finally saying 'momma'! Let me rephrase that. You've been saying 'momma' for a while now, but 99% of the time, you said it when you were whining. 'Momma' sounds far less cute when accompanied by sobs. But now you say it with a smile on your face! We still go back and forth with me saying "Momma!" and you saying "Dadda!", but that you voluntarily (and happily) say 'Momma' does my heart so good.

This has been our most favorite month. You've kept Daddy and me laughing practically non-stop. Watching you walking around, boldly wandering off (stop doing that), and trying to play like big kids do is just a reminder that you are growing up. It is such an honor to watch you do so. And in the words of Gramma Lu (who said this to Auntie K and me), you're not a baby ... but you're MY baby. And you'll be that forever. So there.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy