Turtle and Gus: Month Six

I have a crawling six month old and a ballerina mimicking two year old.

It's always so interesting to see how quickly things can change in the course of a month. Just last month there were still so many things about Adam that seemed so baby, but here, thirty days later, he's sitting up without problems and crawling and learning separation anxiety and recognizing faces. He's knows what strangers are, and he's not super crazy about them. He has distinctly learned that I am his source of nourishment and will not be soothed by any one but me when hunger strikes. It's wonderful and highly inconvenient... but hey, motherhood in a nutshell.

Ella is blossoming into a little girl faster than I'm comfortable with it happening. I think this is the part that people look back on and say "When did I blink?" She's got her letters, numbers, colors, shapes, and animals all figured out. I'm not sure what else to teach her at this point. She loves to read, and rambles to herself with her nose in a book all day long. She's not big on talking, but she's an excellent communicator. Well, I should rephrase that sentence. The child rambles on about something constantly, but it's gibberish and cannot be deciphered, despite my best efforts. However, she signs almost constantly. Swing, slide, eat, juice, more, milk, please, park, bath, snack... The list goes on and on. Why would she need to use words? Between signing and pointing, she's got it pretty easy. There are times, of course, that she grows super frustrated because she signs or tries to say something that I don't understand, so as I stare blankly, she does it over and over until she finally cries. After 2 years and thirty different options, she's settled on calling my Daddy "Paw" and my Mom "Money." I think she'll eventually transition to Nani, but Money is the best and hysterical, so it can stay. She's mischief in its grandest form. Sometimes I honestly feel bad for the child because I feel like she's always in trouble. I get so tired of hearing myself say no that sometimes I feel like I'm a prime candidate for internal combustion.  It's a hard line to walk when you're trying to encourage creativity and boundaries without breaking a spirit when they misstep. So often, I have to stop myself and say, "Will I still be mad about this tomorrow?" Sometimes those answers are obvious. Dumping a cherry lime on my couch? Still mad. Throwing toys down the stairs? Probably not something to blow a gasket over. Staying awake until after Midnight and singing various nursery rhymes, then waking up at 6:45 and refusing to go back to sleep? Still mad. Fit because I won't allow her to eat anymore tomatoes? Probably not mad. There's a balance. But if I put her in time out every time the child frustrated me, she would actually live in timeout. This child. This sweet, wonderful, curious, frustrating, serendipitous baby... She is going to be the reason I invest in some sort of wine company. I'll need some of my money back. The funniest part is that she's probably so similar to me that we just clash. We're too alike. Too many of the same ticks and quirks. Maybe throw in 2 or 3 of the qualities about my husband that occasionally make me say "I AM MOVING TO THE CARRIBEAN AND NO ONE ELSE CAN COME!" And you have Ella. It feels wrong to say that she got a few of my worst qualities (little to zero regard for clutter, frustration when we can't convey our thoughts, screaming one word repeatedly until we're acknowledged, staying up entirely too late because we can't shut our minds down) and a few of Cody's worst qualities (a weird obsession with everything having a "house," the ability to tune all humans completely out, and waking with the sunlight.) Do you see a few things that clash? How could she make so much clutter, but obsess over all of the little toys she has that fit inside an ice cube tray slot? How can she stay up so late and wake with the dawn? How can she demand attention, yet ignore my exasperated pleas for her attention? Ella. Beautiful Ella. Beautiful mess. I'm so crazy about her. Her favorite "attention grabber" is saying "Hi!" Over and over. Gradually getting louder, then when i finally explode and say "ELLA STOP SCREAMING AT ME!" I have to stop and laugh. How can I yell at her for yelling? This is just life as we know it lately. She makes me cry a lot. I mean, I sit on the stairs and cry. And then I pick her up, and kiss her head, sit with her as long as she'll let me. Because frustrate me though she may, I see a fire in that girl that I love. It's a very cliche and over used word today, but the girl is fierce. And I want her to stay that way. So I'll fight for balance and order the best I can, but I'm already so proud of the fireball we're raising. I wouldn't be surprised at all to find her laying in protest in front of some historic landmark that the City is trying to tear down some day. Passion. The world is so lacking in passionate people these days. I'll do my best to raise one... even if she kills me in the process. She can dedicate her Nobel Peace Award to me.

Then there's Adam. The apple of my eye. The joy of my heart. If my children were a traveling dance troupe, they would be Fire and Ice. He's so chill. Every minute of every day. In the heat of the world wars going on around him (Mom VS. Ella), the child grins and coos and plays in the floor. He's not quite as independent as she was, but I'm 110% okay with it. So often, I find myself pondering if I could have another baby, because this child is the one I've been waiting for. He's like the hand of midas when it comes to children. Everything he does is precious, or heart melting, or so heartwarming to me. I don't know if it's because he's the second baby and I'm more chill... or maybe it's because he's a boy, and mothers share that bond with their boys... or if it's just his personality. Either way, he's wonderful. Never in all of my two years of parenting Ella have I ever thought "I could totally grocery shop with this kid!" Because she. is. crazy. and I would stress eat a package of cookies, or casually sip a bottle of moscato while we shopped to cope with the pain. Not this dude. I can easily throw him in the carseat and take on the world. He smiles at strangers and wins us all kinds of free things. Since he's so huge, waitresses almost always offer him free dessert, which I happily take off of his hands, because in a way, he'll still get to enjoy it... just a little bit later. And while we're on it, I'm thrilled, practically exuberant, to announce that Adam Jace was exclusively breastfed for the first six months of his life. Ella was mostly exclusively breastfed, but we offered her cereal at 4 months and baby food at five months. She wasn't consistent with either... maybe a package of food every three days and cereal once a week. It really shouldn't even matter, but I wanted to clarify the little things. Regardless, at six months of age, Adam has no idea that anything else in this world exists besides his favorite Mother's milk. I know it's probably super weird and uncomfortable for some of you to read, but it's really precious and wonderful to me. My body has been so good to me. It's tattered and scarred and stretched, but it's provided me with two years of sacrifice. And with Ella, breastfeeding felt like sacrifice. Not my Adam. It's the bond and beauty that I always read about. It makes my heart break a little bit to know that we've come to the end of the road that involves me being his only source of nourishment. I don't love that part, but I'm SO proud of the fact that we made it all six months. And let me tell you something. I've been obnoxious about breastfeeding. Maybe even judgmental. So I just want to say that lately it has become so super apparent to me that sometimes life just throws us some really disturbing curveballs. I've seen friends fight to the bitter end, and finally, for the sake of sanity and not ending up in the crazy house, they switch to formula. And now, more than ever, I give them a high five. So much of motherhood is out of our control. I have been blessed with two great breastfeeding experiences. My body was faithful to me and took care of my kids, and I never want to take that for granted. I have two exceptionally healthy kids (minus this ear infection kick that Ella's been on lately.) I am so grateful for that, and I'm so grateful that I was able to breastfeed these babies. But I no longer look down from my high horse on people that formula feed. UNLESS you just do it automatically without even considering breastfeeding... Then I'll raise my eyebrow before I change the subject. Back to Adam... He is the breath of fresh air I needed. Sometime I'll come downstairs after the nightly bedtime fight with Ella, and he'll see me and cry to be held. I pick him up, say something along the lines of "WHAT, WHINEY CHILD?!" And he grins. And lays his head on my shoulder, sighs, and stays there for while. Almost to say "Here, let's do something about that blood pressure!" And I almost instantly calm down and spend the rest of my night there loving on him. I've been going through some things lately, mostly being sad that this is likely my last baby experience and it's all moving so quickly that I feel like I'm not soaking it in enough. So you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll love on that baby until the morning dawn, if he asks. In other (sadder) news, Adam is crawling now. And it's the nightmare I was expecting. The great thing about Ella being a little Mama is that she's quick to tell me if Adam is "disobeying." If he crawls off of his blanket or leaves the living room, she quickly sounds the alarm. If he finds something to chew on that she disapproves of, I know instantly. And God forbid that he find one of HER toys. Be near, Lord. But the bad side of that is that Ella likes to help me out with mothering, and that includes offering goldfish, trying to hold him, and sitting on him to make him stay put. We're seeing our first peek of sibling fights, and they're hysterical to me, but you can see visible frustrations on both kid's faces. I've heard myself say "Ella! Who is the Mama?" countless times, to hear "You Mama" in return countless times... but obviously I'm not conveying this message clear enough.

I think that wraps us up! We are thriving in an environment with a two year old that has discovered that she LOVES to sing, and she never stops. We have a six month old that loves to laugh, and I mean really loves to laugh. All we have to do is look at him with our eyebrows raised and he chuckles. I'm reprimanded each month for the excessive shopping I do for boy clothes. It is a sickness. Cody even said that he's so glad we didn't have two boys. I love the challenge of finding boy clothes that don't say "Daddy's Big Guy!" or "Mommy's Sweet Baby Angel." Corniest. I can't stand it. So I spend a lot of time in Baby Gap and H&M (online.) To my detriment. But hey, at least I don't have that sickness with Ella! I leave that to my Mom, or my friend Holly, whom loves to bestow us with adorable girl outfits that I'm too cheap to invest in. Amen.

One more boring month before the Holiday season embarks, and I AM PUMPED. Adam already has two Halloween outfits and two Thanksgiving onesies. I truly am doomed. Here's his 6 month picture and one with his Mother... I mean, sister! Can we just discuss that they are the same child? He is so huge!