I'm Bigger

This afternoon, I walked into the living room.  Spencer said, "I'm bigger."  I asked him "What?" which is, unfortunately, what I ask him often; and he repeated, "I'm bigger!"  I said, "You're bigger?"  And he said, "Yes.  I'm bigger!"

At this point, I'm tired.  I'm tired of worrying about what he's saying.  I'm tired of worrying whether he's saying enough.  I'm tired of worrying that I'm worrying about what he's saying so much that I'm not teaching him other important things.  I'm tired of worrying about worrying about worrying.  I want to be his mom.  I want to talk with him.  I want to converse with him.  He's three for crying out loud.  I was forcing my mom into theological debates at this age.  And with Spencer, I'm still clarifying.

I worry about the syntax, the grammar, the vocab.  I worry because I don't know how to tell him how to make his sounds in a way that helps him make them better.  I worry that all the worry has made me the worst version of myself at the point in my life where I so hoped to be the best version of myself.  You know, the raising my child point.  It's a big deal.  Everything is such a big deal.

I finally break out of my worry fog, and decide we are going to have to talk about when we say "bigger" and when we say "big," because obviously he doesn't get it.  Desperately trying to push the worry aside, I attempt to sound non-chalant but clear.  What do you mean you're bigger?  What are you bigger than?  Do you mean you're bigger than Evie?  He grins and says, "Noooooo."  So, I try to explain it again without blatantly explaining it.  I think they call it "recasting."  I love how there fancy words for saying what obviously needs to be said to the child who is having a hard time saying things (sense the sarcasm).  I say, "Do you mean you are bigger than you used to be?"  He just sort of grins.  We leave it at that.  Or I thought we did.

He follows me into the kitchen and tells me again, "I'm bigger."  I think I finally say, "Ok, honey," or something equally apathetic and pointless.  And then, he does it.  He expounds.  He says, "I'm bigger.  Now you get me a dog."

Surely you've inferred that I've answered his past requests for a pet, namely a dog with a vague, wishy-washy, "Maybe when you're bigger."

And just like that a little bit of the worry falls away.

Past The Half-Way Point

Evie Rose, you made it!  You're seven months old.  You had a sick visit at the doctor within a few days of your 7 month mark, you know, to commemorate the occasion, and show me that you gained a pound this month.  I knew you were getting heavier.

You love smiling at new people.

You ate small pieces of banana yesterday.  Just fed 'em to yourself.

You want to chew my hair all the time.

You are such a wiggle worm.

You hate being left out.

You have just started making a brand new expression.  

I think you started it the day you turned 7 months.  It's funny, and sort of a quirky teacher / librarian scolding face.  You're probably practicing to use it on Spencer.  He loves you a lot, by the way; and you couldn't be more thrilled to receive his attention.

You made your first trip to the zoo last week.  You loved it.  You stayed awake the whole time, and fell asleep just as we got home.  Lots more fun to come, baby girl.  Lots more fun to come!

Snippets of Spencer at 3 Years 4 Months

At your annual peanut allergy appointment, we found out that you now weigh 35 lbs. and you're 39 in. tall.  There's never been an ounce of chub on you, but ya ain't light!

I took you to preschool choir for the first time a few weeks ago, when I told you where we were going, you said, "No, we CAN'T go to church.  We have to stay HOME."  I bribed you with the promise of ice cream afterwards if you went into your class and did what your teachers told you to do.  I managed to get you to your class without any tears.  When I came back to pick you up, you saw me, then said, "NO, Mommy, WE CAN'T GO HOME!  We have to go outside and play!"  Your teacher had promised to take y'all outside next.  You've loved choir these past few weeks, and you ask to go on other evenings.  It's almost over for this school year, but I know you'll be raring to go come August.  You love music, you love your friends, and you love your new teachers at choir.  I'm infinitely grateful for the positive church experiences you're having these days.

You've grown up so much in the past few months.  I've done crazy things like take you and Evie to the zoo by myself, and we've had multiple successful grocery and Target trips.

You told me that chicken nuggets are for babies.  You've never said anything like that before.  That's really hit me.  You're growing up so quickly.  Now if we could only convince you that diapers are for babies.

You are still one of the cutest kids I've ever seen, and it's a good thing.  You've been practicing your debating skills, and that's been an adventure.  With every sophisticated excuse or argument I at once rejoice that your language seems perfectly intact and summon up the energy to face the work teaching obedience and appropriate social behavior.

You still ask for it to be Easter Morning or to go to the pumpkin patch.  I'm glad you've enjoyed your holidays thus far.  You love to pretend that you're Max and I'm Ruby.

You're still waking up once a night most nights.  You started doing this a month or so before Evie was born.  You've been telling me a lot about the scary monsters that are allegedly in your room (or in Evie's room, if I'm putting her down for a nap).

You've started asking for a pet.  I'm surprised it took this long.  You have always loved animals.  You're still incredibly gentle and intuitively good around dogs.  Thankfully Angel is still hanging in there.   When I reminded you that Gigi had a dog at her house, you requested that she bring Angel to our house. You've got plans.

You are loving your Dad these days.  He was leaving for work one morning and you said, "No Daddy go to work.  You have to stay home!  [long, deliberate pause for rhetorical effect] Mommy go to work!" That cracked us up.

I think we're going to have such a fun summer!  We have plans for lots of new places and activities for you, and most of all lots of time with your family.  Your dad and I love spending these years with you.  I tell you at night how God made you so special, and that He has great plans for you.  You just pat me while I talk, and tell me "Yeah" at my pauses.

Your Sixth Month

At your 6 month well-visit, you were, in fact, well!  You weighed 15.5 lbs. (35th%), were 26 in. long (60th%), and had a head circumference of 16.75 in. (53%).

You are getting better at communicating what you want or need.  You have been reaching up with your arms to get out of your car seat for months, but now you've been sitting in a high chair, and you reach up when you want out of there too--it's adorable.  You do it so sweetly (and not demandingly), that it took me quite a few times to figure out what you were doing.  The other night, we walked into your room to rock for the night and you immediately cuddled your head on my shoulder.  It was so precious.  You then picked it right back up and squirmed and wiggled for twenty minutes while I rocked you, but I could tell you knew it was time for bed when we walked in. 

You have started consistently napping for longer than 45 minutes.  Your morning nap is typically on the go, since we have places we need to take Spencer most mornings, but you take an afternoon nap around 12 or 1 every day, and most days it lasts an hour or longer.  You're getting there!  Your night time sleeping has not been great.  You've had some nights where you are up A LOT, and you've had some nights where you "only" wake up two or three times.  Your daddy gets up with you a lot.  You and I are lucky ladies.  

You now love to hold and take a bottle.  You're finally taking more than 1.5 or 2 oz. at a time this way, and the future looks brighter!  Two weeks into liking your bottle, you have taken some "whole" bottles (about four ounces at a time).  This feels like a breakthrough.  At the beginning of your sixth month it was mostly breast milk, but we're easing into supplementing with some formula.  Formula is certainly not your favorite, but as long as we get it really warm (and you're actually hungry), you have taken a few full feedings this way.  Update:  at the end of your sixth month, you're taking formula fine.  You're growing up so fast!

You liked the baby rice cereal at first, but you didn't like the baby oatmeal at all.  You quickly got bored with rice cereal, and you've been trying all sorts of foods this month.  You love mashed up avocado.  You haven't loved any other pureed baby food, but you liked mashed up banana once or twice.  What you really want is to hold the food yourself.  I broke out the puffs, and you can get them into your mouth with amazing dexterity.   You can barely reach much of the tray on your high chair since you are still so little, but you are better than I would have guessed at picking them up and getting them into your mouth.  

They also make a cheesy, savory vegetable flavored rice puff (basically, it's a cheetoh that's deemed appropriate for babies), not surprisingly, you like those too.  You will also gnaw on the "teething" biscuits, and I feel sure you'd like some zwieback toast if I could get my hands on some.  You have seemed to enjoy the apple, squash, and oatmeal blend the most of all the "baby" food you've tried.  And, just like your brother, you loved your first dill pickle.  Around 6.5 months, we added in full-fat yogurt because you really want "real" food, and you still don't love purees.  You like the yogurt, and have tolerated it great.

At the beginning of your sixth month, you were constantly playing with all the tags on your toys.  You are also very interested in all of Spencer's toys.  He's not thrilled about it.  We also retired the swing as you turned six months after you kept hanging upside down from it.  I also continued to find you face down in your bouncy seat, so I guess we're done with that too.

Around 6.5 months, I put you in the middle of the living room floor, and within a few minutes, I heard you near the entrance to the kitchen.  My mind was confused by what my ears were hearing, I got up, and sure enough, there you were, with a big, proud grin.  You're coming to get me!

By the end of your sixth month, you are everywhere--fast.  I keep finding you all the way under the sofa, trying to drink out of Spencer's sippy cups, reaching under the entertainment center for (very old) crumbs, etc.  It won't be long before you'll have complete control over where you want to be.  Time to get out the baby gates.  You can sit, but you don't want to.  Even if we are sitting and holding you, you are in constant motion.  This is very familiar territory to us.  Spencer was much the same way.  I'd say you are a bit more laid back than him, but not by much.

I took you and Spencer to a birthday party for one of Spencer's friends, and everyone told me how beautiful you were.  One of the moms at the Little Gym told me today that her husband (who took her kids to the party) came home telling her what a beautiful baby you are.  I want you to know that your beauty is not where your worth is found but it is certainly an example of how remarkably beautiful God's creation is.  True beauty points others to Him.

Speaking of beauty, we've skipped Spring here in Arkansas (as is typical), and it's been in the 80's and even the 90's some days.  That being said, you've been wearing some of your summer clothes that I've been collecting for you (with the help of your grandmothers), and, I have to confess, it's been quite a fun little hobby for all of us.  I loved getting your brother dressed every morning when he was a baby, and I love getting you dressed every morning just as much.

Easter was cool, and it felt like Spring (despite above remarks--and it's been fairly cool the second half of the month).  It was so fun to celebrate Easter with you in our family.  We went to church, and then went to our church's egg hunt.  Then, we headed over to Gigi's house where we had lunch with lots of family.  Everyone enjoyed seeing and playing with you.  Spencer helped you open your Easter basket, but you pretty much opened your Easter gifts from Nana by yourself.  I ate your Easter chocolate for you.  You're very welcome.

If Spencer laughs, you beam and giggle.  He's interacting more with you, and you've been "tracking" him since you were born.  I love watching the two of you together.  Having a sibling is such a special gift.  You also love your Daddy.  When he talks or even walks into the room you smile at him.  It's so sweet to watch you already enamored with him.  Towards the end of your sixth month, you've been paying much more attention to Papa Kurt as well--MUCH to his delight.

They have had to call me during church a couple of times this month because you've been fussy for them in the nursery.  I tell them over and over again, that it's no big deal, and I'd always rather come to settle you down.  There won't be very many years that you want your Mommy exclusively, and I love that I can comfort you by my mere presence.  These are the simple days--and I'm trying to soak them up.

You got a cold at the end of your sixth month, you are more congested than you've ever been, and so far, you've weathered it beautifully. You're quite a little trooper.  

You're more beautiful, sweet, and funny with each passing month, Evie Rose.  We can't wait to see what your seventh month has in store.

Siblings

Baby Evie* loves her brother so much that she pitches a fit when we take her back to her room for a nap, even when she's exhausted.  This morning, I skipped the ear-piercing event all together in order to get some chores done around the house.  We had to leave at 9:45 anyway, so I'd be getting her up from her nap early, assuming I could manage to get her down.

Imagine my surprise when I glanced into the living room and saw this

Crazy child went to sleep with Sesame Street blaring and brother bouncing all over the room--the blinds are wide open and morning light was pouring in--so much for blackout shades helping babies sleep.

I stopped the laundry and the (poor attempt at) tidying up and took a few pictures.  Go ahead and admire her comb over.  We love it.

There she is by her favorite person in the world.  He loves her too, he'd just prefer she not touch his stuff.

I just let her sleep in there, with none of the remorse, worry, or guilt I would have experienced with Spencer about the bad sleep habits were had or were currently establishing.  We are getting. through. the. day.  And that is all.  It cracked me up that at some point she actually rolled over, and remained--or put herself back to--sleep.  So she can do it!  Just not the six or seven times she wakes up at night for no reason.

She's such a little lady, even during nap time.  Look at her little legs all crossed.  The patchwork blanket was mine when I was a baby.  My great grandmother made it for me.  It's held up pretty well, but it does smell like moth balls now.  It's been washed on hot ten million times.  Please don't tell me if moth balls have been shown to have some neurotoxicity or anything, I have purposely refrained from googling it.  She doesn't sleep with it or anything.  Well, until today.

I eventually put her in her car seat and we left the house to do stuff for her big brother all morning.  She didn't seem to mind one bit--the perfect illustration of the phrase "just along for the ride."  

*We pronounce it "Evie" with the same beginning vowel sound as "Evelyn."  If that doesn't help, think "Evie" as in "Drove my Chevy to the levy."  You're welcome.