Sunday, September 16, 2012
Day 2: something that makes me happy
My two best gals at the beach. Favorite place again. This is Lighthouse Beach in Evanston, Illinois, home to Northwestern University and beautiful beaches and parks. We haven't been here for about two years. We usually go to other beaches that have shallower slopes into the water. Turns out this year this beach has a gentle slope too. This is the kind of beach where its easy to imagine you might be somewhere a little more remote. There are rocks and trees and little inlets at the north of end of the beach. First we met up for an end of summer picnic with some of the baby mamas in our group at a park right by the beach. We had yummy food, wine and snatches of interrupted conversation. Then Susan, Isobel, Aunty Ann ( supplier of books and princess skirts) and I tramped down to the beach and hung out for a couple of hours. The water was a little chilly and so was the air. But I swam anyway. In a borrowed t-shirt and sarong and my undies. I know, I make my life sound idyllic. The family time is the best thing ever. I wish I was off work tomorrow. Alas, no. See you all on day three.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
30 day photo challenge
Hi folks, this is blogging from the I phone on my couch. An offering of love and Insert Metaphor are at it again! Photo blogging challenge. I'm still in on day one. This is me chilling on the couch after a late afternoon at the beach with my best girls. Swimming was done by all. ( or zumming) as Isobel calls it. It was chilly but so relaxing. Now she is watching Telly Tubbies in Croatian on u tube while sitting on mama S's lap. Bedtime soon!
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Playing catch up and the changing of the guard
It is an unusually quiet night in our household. We are both on our computers. Isobel is in her toddler bed asleep and not performing her almost usual late night antics. The dishes are done. The bills are paid. I have clean clothes for work tomorrow. They may not be glamorous or fashionable but they are within the dress code ( no t shirts or slogans or hoochie mama short shorts). We don't know how we are going to make it through til next pay day but we will do our best. These days I consider it a feat if we are all fed, clothed, I can make it to work on time, Susan and Isobel are content with their plans for the day and we are not drowning in dirty dishes, dirty laundry and toys. One of my co-workers today told me that if only I could lose a bit of weight I would curb my snoring ( I had confided to her that the old night choo choo train was keeping the other occupants of our bed up at night). I told her that was all very well, but I was just pleased to be able to keep on top of the bare essentials and I didn't know when I was going to be losing weight any time soon.
It has been almost 8 weeks since I started back to work, full-time, as the sole wage earner in our household. We had run out of all our borrowed moneys ( 401ks, money from my deceased parents, student loans etc.) The job came just in the nick of time. I almost did not apply for it as I had been trying so hard to get out of not for profit social services and into a hospital or healthcare setting. Now I am back in social services I realize that I am where I was supposed to be all along. I am an administrator / manager / clinical social worker type in a social service agency that serves homeless women and their families and also single men. It was as if my resume was written in preparation for this job. In a very strange circular motion I have come back to where I started 16 years ago when I first started working as a case manager for a homeless services agency and shelter in Chicago. The agency had many flaws and problems but they did hire me and sponsor me for a temporary work visa, which was the first in many steps to get to my green card. It was a baptism of fire and roaches. The fire is metaphorical, the roaches are not. And they are now joined by armies of bed bugs, immune to most pesticides and taking refuge in the mattresses of shelters, in the rooms of hoarders who are incapable and sometimes unwilling to take the complicated steps to rid themselves of these scourges. We all live in fear of bringing bed bugs home. I am one of at least three staff that regularly say that if I bring them home I will be getting a divorce.
But I digress. This agency where I started my social work career went under last year in a big pile of mismanagement, funding cuts and other amorphous shit. The agency where I now work took over the contract and with it 100 hundred clients living in tiny SROs and studios in the area of town that has the highest per capita homeless and social service agencies. And it is my job ( among other things) to whip this "program" - for want of a better word - into shape and to make sure that these clients are getting services and their lives are improving. There is one client left who was there when I was at the agency when I left in 1998. We had to go through the files and pick out paperwork that can be transfered to new files. It was like going back in time to a place I never thought I would return. Seeing familiar paperwork, having flashback to the often traumatic times at that job. Walking the streets of Uptown and remembering clients that I had forgotten about for years. Finding out that a client who I thought was dead ( and whose death had lived on my conscience for a decade) was actually still alive. I had been the lackey who helped to evict her. And I had heard that she was murdered shortly afterwards. I was so relieved to hear that she is still there, still living in the shelter ( after how many year?!!!!) and her blood was not on my conscience. She should of course be housed. But her mental illness is so severe it puts barriers in the way of this. Because in this country and many others, if you have a mental illness whose most salient symptom is that you don't think you are sick, you are doomed to never get any benefits because you don't know that you are sick. You don't believe you are. Everyone else tells you that you are ( if they dare) but it doesn't matter. So you are deprived of ever getting the benefits that are due to you. True story.
So here I am after all these years, trying to salvage these 100 neglected clients from the wreckage of a program and a system that has kept them stagnating in place for years, often with no income, sometimes with nothing pleasant to say or do, often with sad stories and earnest eyes. And to be honest, it does kind of feel like coming home. Except things are worse now than they were then. There is so much brokenness and scarcity and overwhelming misery. There is hope and success stories and there are small victories. We cling to the small victories. And as well as the 100 clients I am also responsible for ( via the work of the case managers I supervise) for another 80 or so. Many of them seriously mentally ill. Some of them drug addicted. Many with children whose lives are just horrible. We watch as the mothers ruin their lives in front of our eyes. We can't do much.We do what we can. It is one thing seeing a single adult living a miserable and hopeless life. It is another seeing a mother inflict that on her children. It's not all about poverty. Much of it is, but much of it is about a sick society, pathology, inequality, families dependent on hand outs for generations, families who are perpetuating cycles of abuse, violence and neglect. We call DCFS quite a bit. But they are so overwhelmed that they can only respond to the worse cases.
So here I am, an infertile woman, surrounded by women who breed without seeming to give it much thought. I am not exactly bitter, but I am horrified and I do find it hard to be hopeful for these women and their children.
This was supposed to be a post about our new lives. About going back to work and trying to make ends meet. But I got diverted into a ghetto on the north side of Chicago. There is no nice way to end this post. Except to say, I am glad I am there, glad I am doing something to make a difference, glad to be finally making some money and glad that I can come home at the end of the day and hug and kiss my two girls tight and do my best to keep them safe and warm.
It has been almost 8 weeks since I started back to work, full-time, as the sole wage earner in our household. We had run out of all our borrowed moneys ( 401ks, money from my deceased parents, student loans etc.) The job came just in the nick of time. I almost did not apply for it as I had been trying so hard to get out of not for profit social services and into a hospital or healthcare setting. Now I am back in social services I realize that I am where I was supposed to be all along. I am an administrator / manager / clinical social worker type in a social service agency that serves homeless women and their families and also single men. It was as if my resume was written in preparation for this job. In a very strange circular motion I have come back to where I started 16 years ago when I first started working as a case manager for a homeless services agency and shelter in Chicago. The agency had many flaws and problems but they did hire me and sponsor me for a temporary work visa, which was the first in many steps to get to my green card. It was a baptism of fire and roaches. The fire is metaphorical, the roaches are not. And they are now joined by armies of bed bugs, immune to most pesticides and taking refuge in the mattresses of shelters, in the rooms of hoarders who are incapable and sometimes unwilling to take the complicated steps to rid themselves of these scourges. We all live in fear of bringing bed bugs home. I am one of at least three staff that regularly say that if I bring them home I will be getting a divorce.
But I digress. This agency where I started my social work career went under last year in a big pile of mismanagement, funding cuts and other amorphous shit. The agency where I now work took over the contract and with it 100 hundred clients living in tiny SROs and studios in the area of town that has the highest per capita homeless and social service agencies. And it is my job ( among other things) to whip this "program" - for want of a better word - into shape and to make sure that these clients are getting services and their lives are improving. There is one client left who was there when I was at the agency when I left in 1998. We had to go through the files and pick out paperwork that can be transfered to new files. It was like going back in time to a place I never thought I would return. Seeing familiar paperwork, having flashback to the often traumatic times at that job. Walking the streets of Uptown and remembering clients that I had forgotten about for years. Finding out that a client who I thought was dead ( and whose death had lived on my conscience for a decade) was actually still alive. I had been the lackey who helped to evict her. And I had heard that she was murdered shortly afterwards. I was so relieved to hear that she is still there, still living in the shelter ( after how many year?!!!!) and her blood was not on my conscience. She should of course be housed. But her mental illness is so severe it puts barriers in the way of this. Because in this country and many others, if you have a mental illness whose most salient symptom is that you don't think you are sick, you are doomed to never get any benefits because you don't know that you are sick. You don't believe you are. Everyone else tells you that you are ( if they dare) but it doesn't matter. So you are deprived of ever getting the benefits that are due to you. True story.
So here I am after all these years, trying to salvage these 100 neglected clients from the wreckage of a program and a system that has kept them stagnating in place for years, often with no income, sometimes with nothing pleasant to say or do, often with sad stories and earnest eyes. And to be honest, it does kind of feel like coming home. Except things are worse now than they were then. There is so much brokenness and scarcity and overwhelming misery. There is hope and success stories and there are small victories. We cling to the small victories. And as well as the 100 clients I am also responsible for ( via the work of the case managers I supervise) for another 80 or so. Many of them seriously mentally ill. Some of them drug addicted. Many with children whose lives are just horrible. We watch as the mothers ruin their lives in front of our eyes. We can't do much.We do what we can. It is one thing seeing a single adult living a miserable and hopeless life. It is another seeing a mother inflict that on her children. It's not all about poverty. Much of it is, but much of it is about a sick society, pathology, inequality, families dependent on hand outs for generations, families who are perpetuating cycles of abuse, violence and neglect. We call DCFS quite a bit. But they are so overwhelmed that they can only respond to the worse cases.
So here I am, an infertile woman, surrounded by women who breed without seeming to give it much thought. I am not exactly bitter, but I am horrified and I do find it hard to be hopeful for these women and their children.
This was supposed to be a post about our new lives. About going back to work and trying to make ends meet. But I got diverted into a ghetto on the north side of Chicago. There is no nice way to end this post. Except to say, I am glad I am there, glad I am doing something to make a difference, glad to be finally making some money and glad that I can come home at the end of the day and hug and kiss my two girls tight and do my best to keep them safe and warm.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Twenty on the dot - ( warning - toddler stories below)
Well, I am back for a post on Isobel McGorgeous. Today is her twenty month birthday. It seems as if every time someone asks me her age she has grown another month.The same thing happens when people ask how long I have been in the states. At last count it was 16 years.
The biggest milestone actually happened around her nineteen month birthday, which we forgot, but we can be forgiven because of all the excitement around this milestone - finally she walked. It seemed to happen almost overnight. Susan was with her in the kitchen and she came to tell me to come watch Isobel who had just done four laps around our kitchen island. And she kept on lapping and lapping. We had tried to practice walking with her and have her hold our hands and she could identify the word "walk" and say it when she wanted to practice. That day or the next one, we went to the park by the beach and she was headed to the sand, so I suggested we walk, and she held my hand and did a great job of walking on the bumpy sand. Then she let go of my hand and kept going. She would teeter over and then pick herself up again over and over. We walked quite a distance and she did not want to stop. Eventually it was time to go home and I had to pick her up and carry her as she did not want to leave. Since then she just got more and more proficient at it and never really looked back. All our anxiety over when and if she would walk is gone. It's so remarkable. We tried so hard to believe that patience would win and it did, but it was also hard to keep the faith with so many anxious naysayers around.
Now that it's summer we are out a lot more, and she really loves to go outside - one of her favorite things to do is to go in her little red and yellow car - which we pictured in my last update. She has started to call it her "hum" or "hummie" and we have no clue why, but as far as we know she does not know what a hummer is and we have never mentioned it. She has had skinned knees from falling over on the sidewalk and she does cry, but also can deal with it with equanimity especially as she learnt to say the word, "scrape". She really picks up words very quickly and it's so cute to hear her saying them. She says "scrape" and "grape" with a real punch on the p and it's so cute. She loves grapes and raisins, which she also calls grapes.
Isobel has definite opinions about things like shoes ( "shoo-eys") and clothes ("on"). Yesterday she asked over and over to put on her new hand me down bathing suit, complete with frilly skirt and pink flower corsage, and I of course complied. It worked out well because we then went out into the sprinkler to play and also to her "water park" which is her water table in the back yard. She has recently discovered the joy of pouring and now likes to pour water all over her mamas - especially over our pants or jeans when we are sitting in the garden watching her play. We are so fortunate that even though we have a grotty basement for an apartment ( complete with A/C thank you very much, so there are some bonuses) we have two enclosed outdoor spaces for Isobel to play in - front and back. And now that she is so mobile and so fast, it's really important to have enclosed spaces when you are near a road - which of course, this is Chicago, so we are. The kinds of things you never even think will happen when you are doing IVF is that one day you will have to teach your daughter about traffic and make sure she holds your hand near the street, crossing the street or the alley. SO many things I never thought of, especially as someone who did not have much experience with babies and toddlers before Isobel came along. And when I say Isobel "came along", I use it in the same way that I could never say I "fell pregnant".
One big change that only happened in the past two weeks is that I am now working full time outside the home. It has been a rude awakening but in many ways it is a superbly ideal situation and I count myself very very lucky. I want to write more in detail about it another time, but suffice to say, this has really solidified and nurtured relationship with Susan to the point that they are so much more connected and sometimes when I come home, even though I get squeals of delight and hugs, I sometimes feel a bit like the outsider. She definitely needs to check in with both of us and make sure she knows where we both are now, whereas previously she did not seek Susan out so much when she was with me. It's really gratifying and equalizing. I often get to experience the joys of the tired, hungry crabby end of the day toddler too. It's not all bad though - waking up with her is full of fun and joy and sunshine. I wish wish wish that I could feel the joy she displays when I wake up. I don't, as I am really not a morning person, but seeing her happiness makes me as joyful as I have ever been in the morning.
Isobel is so much more aware and conscious and tuned in. She notices details that completely pass me by, and loves to play with tiny things - like gravel and sand and rocks at the park - often more so than the playground equipment. She is adept at playing kitchen, whisking her soup vigorously and serving it to Susan and me. Her eating away from the make believe is just not that thrilling, in fact, she is a very very picky eater. She prefers to eat "snack" - crackers, pieces of fruit etc, than sitting down for a meal in her high chair. The things she once loved, like raspberries, are eschewed as are her beloved peaches. She still favors broccoli ( al dente and bright green). But she is so not interested in typical baby foods like yoghurt, has yet to like cows milk and we can never predict how much if any she is going to eat. She does like eggs and will ask for them. And she loves "choc" - olate. That you can predict.
One of Isobel's favorite phrases- which she got from her beloved babysitter is "what's that" or "wazzat?" which she repeats over and over when she is checking out new things. Isobel loves loves loves her babysitter - and whenever she sees a woman who has a similar build and complexion, she calls out her name. She has so many words it's hard to keep up with what is new and what is old, but she can be a total chatterbox -especially when she is going down for a nap or at bedtime - and mostly with Susan and not me. Tonight she was breast-feeding with me in bed and she kept popping up her head and saying "mommy, mommy??" very loudly to check that Susan was there - and Susan would call back from the next room, "baby", and say "night, night Isobel" She has just learned the name of my sisters partner - "Sam", which is much easier to say than my sister's own name and she has assigned the name Sam to both of them. She says it very sweetly with a real emphasis on the m. It's kind of like how she calls us both mommie now ( just like one of her favorite characters Cailliou calls his mum). So today when we were at the beach with just my sister and she was calling her Sam, I decided to differentiate by calling them Uncle Sam and Aunt Sam. Cute!
So many more things to say but time to close. I leave you with the thought of Isobel learning about dress up and wearing a tulle skirt that her boyfriend Ellis let her wear while doing ballet twirls with him. Oh the make believe! Oh the fun!
And now for pictures!
The biggest milestone actually happened around her nineteen month birthday, which we forgot, but we can be forgiven because of all the excitement around this milestone - finally she walked. It seemed to happen almost overnight. Susan was with her in the kitchen and she came to tell me to come watch Isobel who had just done four laps around our kitchen island. And she kept on lapping and lapping. We had tried to practice walking with her and have her hold our hands and she could identify the word "walk" and say it when she wanted to practice. That day or the next one, we went to the park by the beach and she was headed to the sand, so I suggested we walk, and she held my hand and did a great job of walking on the bumpy sand. Then she let go of my hand and kept going. She would teeter over and then pick herself up again over and over. We walked quite a distance and she did not want to stop. Eventually it was time to go home and I had to pick her up and carry her as she did not want to leave. Since then she just got more and more proficient at it and never really looked back. All our anxiety over when and if she would walk is gone. It's so remarkable. We tried so hard to believe that patience would win and it did, but it was also hard to keep the faith with so many anxious naysayers around.
Now that it's summer we are out a lot more, and she really loves to go outside - one of her favorite things to do is to go in her little red and yellow car - which we pictured in my last update. She has started to call it her "hum" or "hummie" and we have no clue why, but as far as we know she does not know what a hummer is and we have never mentioned it. She has had skinned knees from falling over on the sidewalk and she does cry, but also can deal with it with equanimity especially as she learnt to say the word, "scrape". She really picks up words very quickly and it's so cute to hear her saying them. She says "scrape" and "grape" with a real punch on the p and it's so cute. She loves grapes and raisins, which she also calls grapes.
Isobel has definite opinions about things like shoes ( "shoo-eys") and clothes ("on"). Yesterday she asked over and over to put on her new hand me down bathing suit, complete with frilly skirt and pink flower corsage, and I of course complied. It worked out well because we then went out into the sprinkler to play and also to her "water park" which is her water table in the back yard. She has recently discovered the joy of pouring and now likes to pour water all over her mamas - especially over our pants or jeans when we are sitting in the garden watching her play. We are so fortunate that even though we have a grotty basement for an apartment ( complete with A/C thank you very much, so there are some bonuses) we have two enclosed outdoor spaces for Isobel to play in - front and back. And now that she is so mobile and so fast, it's really important to have enclosed spaces when you are near a road - which of course, this is Chicago, so we are. The kinds of things you never even think will happen when you are doing IVF is that one day you will have to teach your daughter about traffic and make sure she holds your hand near the street, crossing the street or the alley. SO many things I never thought of, especially as someone who did not have much experience with babies and toddlers before Isobel came along. And when I say Isobel "came along", I use it in the same way that I could never say I "fell pregnant".
One big change that only happened in the past two weeks is that I am now working full time outside the home. It has been a rude awakening but in many ways it is a superbly ideal situation and I count myself very very lucky. I want to write more in detail about it another time, but suffice to say, this has really solidified and nurtured relationship with Susan to the point that they are so much more connected and sometimes when I come home, even though I get squeals of delight and hugs, I sometimes feel a bit like the outsider. She definitely needs to check in with both of us and make sure she knows where we both are now, whereas previously she did not seek Susan out so much when she was with me. It's really gratifying and equalizing. I often get to experience the joys of the tired, hungry crabby end of the day toddler too. It's not all bad though - waking up with her is full of fun and joy and sunshine. I wish wish wish that I could feel the joy she displays when I wake up. I don't, as I am really not a morning person, but seeing her happiness makes me as joyful as I have ever been in the morning.
Isobel is so much more aware and conscious and tuned in. She notices details that completely pass me by, and loves to play with tiny things - like gravel and sand and rocks at the park - often more so than the playground equipment. She is adept at playing kitchen, whisking her soup vigorously and serving it to Susan and me. Her eating away from the make believe is just not that thrilling, in fact, she is a very very picky eater. She prefers to eat "snack" - crackers, pieces of fruit etc, than sitting down for a meal in her high chair. The things she once loved, like raspberries, are eschewed as are her beloved peaches. She still favors broccoli ( al dente and bright green). But she is so not interested in typical baby foods like yoghurt, has yet to like cows milk and we can never predict how much if any she is going to eat. She does like eggs and will ask for them. And she loves "choc" - olate. That you can predict.
One of Isobel's favorite phrases- which she got from her beloved babysitter is "what's that" or "wazzat?" which she repeats over and over when she is checking out new things. Isobel loves loves loves her babysitter - and whenever she sees a woman who has a similar build and complexion, she calls out her name. She has so many words it's hard to keep up with what is new and what is old, but she can be a total chatterbox -especially when she is going down for a nap or at bedtime - and mostly with Susan and not me. Tonight she was breast-feeding with me in bed and she kept popping up her head and saying "mommy, mommy??" very loudly to check that Susan was there - and Susan would call back from the next room, "baby", and say "night, night Isobel" She has just learned the name of my sisters partner - "Sam", which is much easier to say than my sister's own name and she has assigned the name Sam to both of them. She says it very sweetly with a real emphasis on the m. It's kind of like how she calls us both mommie now ( just like one of her favorite characters Cailliou calls his mum). So today when we were at the beach with just my sister and she was calling her Sam, I decided to differentiate by calling them Uncle Sam and Aunt Sam. Cute!
So many more things to say but time to close. I leave you with the thought of Isobel learning about dress up and wearing a tulle skirt that her boyfriend Ellis let her wear while doing ballet twirls with him. Oh the make believe! Oh the fun!
And now for pictures!
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| hanging at the park |
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| a walk in the park |
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| tolerating my hat! |
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| me and my fan are just blowing in the wind! |
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| uncle mike's fountain is a great water park! |
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| "cray, cray"! |
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| ..."but I don't want to sit in my car seat!" |
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| me and my swimsuit and two pairs of sunglasses |
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| in the garden with my fab purple water shoes |
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| "snack" at the beach - today |
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| wild fun at the park! |
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| even more fun! |
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| in my box! |
Monday, June 11, 2012
Weighing in on a cerclage
Hi Internets. I interrupt this regularly scheduled blog silence to ask if you can help my wonderful friend
It Is What it Is on a humdinger of a question that she is currently struggling with.
If you read the post ( and the one before it, which is linked in the post) you will know that she is considering ( and by considering I mean doing the most diligent research, talking to her doctors, soul searching and contemplating ) the necessity of a cerclage for her new(ish) tender pregnancy. For the pregnancy that produced her adorable and wonderful son who is now five years old, she was on bedrest and had a cerclage placed.
And now, this precious pregnancy that she is nurturing is her hoped for and dreamed for second child. The one beautiful miracle that completes her family and the one she has been waiting for for since she started trying for a second child just after her son was born.
If you have any experience regarding the decision of to cerclage or to not cerclage, please go over and read her posts and then send her your wisdom as well as your thoughts and hopes for a very strong and long and steady cervix for the rest of her pregnancy.
I know she will appreciate your experience, knowledge and wisdom.
Thank you!
PS Coming soon - one of those posts that are not so popular in these parts of the blogosphere, but which help me stay connected to the progress of my daughter's growing up.
It Is What it Is on a humdinger of a question that she is currently struggling with.
If you read the post ( and the one before it, which is linked in the post) you will know that she is considering ( and by considering I mean doing the most diligent research, talking to her doctors, soul searching and contemplating ) the necessity of a cerclage for her new(ish) tender pregnancy. For the pregnancy that produced her adorable and wonderful son who is now five years old, she was on bedrest and had a cerclage placed.
And now, this precious pregnancy that she is nurturing is her hoped for and dreamed for second child. The one beautiful miracle that completes her family and the one she has been waiting for for since she started trying for a second child just after her son was born.
If you have any experience regarding the decision of to cerclage or to not cerclage, please go over and read her posts and then send her your wisdom as well as your thoughts and hopes for a very strong and long and steady cervix for the rest of her pregnancy.
I know she will appreciate your experience, knowledge and wisdom.
Thank you!
PS Coming soon - one of those posts that are not so popular in these parts of the blogosphere, but which help me stay connected to the progress of my daughter's growing up.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Seventeen going on eighteen
Hi sweet blog friends. Forgive my absence. I know I say that every time. It is true. I wish I could write more often. I am a pretty good commenter, or I was until Wordpress put paid to that recently with it's comment / email address / sign in blocking. Ugh. Also what is up with the blogger word recognition explosion? It seems to get harder and harder and I comment from my phone so I often get stuck and can't write anything half way through one of those for some strange reason. Oh the lost comments that have disappeared into the blog ether....
There has been lots going on in the blogosphere and lots in my life and head and I really want to address some of it. But before I do I really want to tell you about how Isobel is doing and what is going on with her.
She says a lot of words. You could call it a verbal explosion really. She is using many words ( we have a list of about 60) independently ( i.e. she initiates them and uses them to get what she wants or to point them out ) and she is also imitating words that we say and repeating them. She usually uses one word at a time. With a gesture. Sometimes she uses two, "my mama" in response to "who's coming in the door?" and "I down". She thinks that down is a word that means up or down and is not quite sure when to use up. Down is usually said in a very firm manner and tone. Isobel knows what she wants.
Her absolute favorite words that she likes to repeat over and over are Pat ( as in Postman Pat and his black and white cat), Cat as in any and all cats she sees, whether in real life, on a picture, on a bag of cat food or in a book. These are words that she seems to use to comfort and reassure herself as well as to describe. A new character in her life is Pooh, another very comforting word, along with "Boo" which is truncated and should have a b on the end and yes, it's how she gets her milk. She can use any of these words pat, cat, pooh, boo when she needs comforting or just because. She has also recently become quite worried about the trouble that Pooh is having with bees, and she can identify bees with the same preciseness that she identifies cats. They are more places than you think. Just ask Isobel! The declaration of Pooh and Pat also serves as a request for both of these favorites to be found and played on U tube.
Another word that serves many purposes is "hi". It's not just a greeting, it's a reminder that she is here, a joke, a loving word, so many things. So many cadences and inflections of it too. Bye is often said quite brightly and accompanied by a wave and a kiss blown with gusto and quite a bit of lip smacking. Usually accompanied by squeals of delight from us and other onlookers!
Isobel's favorite foods, apart from breast milk of course, are just recently oatmeal, peaches and broccoli. The broccoli has to be al dente with butter on it and / or cheese. The peaches come in their own juice, and she stabs them with a fork. Her use of utensils has progressed leaps and bounds, in the last week or two, mostly from her wanting to feed herself her oatmeal, which is a big relief to this mama, because until recently she was not really interested in cereal at all. This oatmeal has flax seeds in it and I sweeten it with Agav.e nectar and she loves it. We both eat the same thing for breakfast. She also can drink out of a regular cup, and the one she prefers is small and see through and sparkly. She also likes to dump the water over herself or onto her food and swim her hands around in it on her high chair tray.
We recently were lucky to have a friend of ours go to a big rummage sale for us ( we were both working - something that is a rarity these days - and another post ) to grab some really good cheap toys. The bad news is it was the family center where we have been going for play and support and camaraderie since Isobel was three months old and it closed down due to lack of funding. The good news was the Ann, the professional rummage sale chick, was able to score us some really good stuff. Armed with her own "sold" signs and a very bossy attitude she swiped up some bargains. Some favorites are a fold out fisher price dolls house / mansion that is a little scratched up, but at four dollars was a steal and has kept Isobel transfixed in pretend play for many hours since she got it a week ago. She has tried to get her size four feet to climb the tiny stairs, pitched barbie dolls and any stray little people off the roof, and peeked through the windows and doors. She even got her head stuck inside the lower story while trying to figure out where everything was. I think after our second rescue of her trapped head she decided not to do it again. The house did not come with furniture but Ann snagged a small little tykes table that fits inside and which Isobel also tried to sit on a number of times when our camera was close by ( see below for pictures ) and also some extra little people who go in and out, often quite unceremoniously. Isobel enjoys having little conversations with herself and also makes her dolls have conversations. We don't know what they are saying but we assume that it is polite and well mannered!
Another toy that we got was a little tykes red car with a yellow top for $7. Wow! She has a miniature one and now a toddler sized one. We couldn't resist a picture side by side. And now "car" is another favorite word that is often uttered - and often means let me go in my car that is in the hallway of the condo building and then let me go outside and scoot around on the paths and in the grass. Yes, I want to go out. Isobel does not yet say "out" but she does say "door" which when she bangs on it has a similar effect to "out". Another enticement in the out of doors is the water /sand table we got for $4 from the sale which has been a great distraction in our small back yard that has morning shade and is a great place to get wet and splash around. After two clothing changes I realized that a swim diaper is probably the best way to dress for this activity...
But is Isobel walking yet, you ask yourself? After all, she is seventeen months going on eighteen. (Actually she just turned 17 months )She should be walking. Her walking progresses like this. She scoots very fast and with a lean to one side and favoring one leg and arm kind of like a monkey. She occasionally army crawls, but it's way too slow and tedious. She has progressed to "walking" on her knees and doing this in an upright position. She can stand anywhere - in the bath, on the sofa cushions. She can raise from standing to squatting and back with no hands supported. She can do baby yoga, or what we call "up down bottom" beautifully. She can take a few steps unaided. But she is not walking. "No, she is not walking, but she is working hard on her vocabulary," I tell people. "Aren't you a bit worried?" No, of course not, it never occurred to me to be worried, just as it never occurred to me to think about adopting. My head is completely void of thoughts, which is why I rely on other people to have them for me. "What does the pediatrician say?" She says that the gross motor skills (i.e. walking and such ) have the most variation in age of attainment. Which means she is on the slow side but it's not dire yet. Yes, and can your baby scoot as fast and furious as mine? What does your pediatrician say about that? Mostly it's just a pain seeing her drag herself over every dirty surface that she feels the need to explore and that we decide is safe. Isn't that what shoes are for?
Much to mine and Susan's gratification, Isobel now has separation anxiety from both of us. Not horrible but definitely discernible. I know that sounds odd but it makes things more equal around here. It's not just the mama with the milky boobs that she cries for when she sees us disappear. It's the other mama. The one who has many tricks for soothing up her sleeve. The one who tells her stories and is funny and delightful and rocks her to sleep in the big brown chair. The mama that the boob mama has to sometime defer to and say, "please can you rock her to sleep, I can't do anything for her." That, my dears, is progress. And all because I have been gone some nights doing my "new" and soon to be "departed" job working on call in the ERs doing psychiatric evaluations. And Susan and Isobel developed their own way of doing bedtime without me. Which is fantastic. Apart from the bit where Isobel has to sleep by herself in her crib. That part is not going so well, although now that we converted it to a toddler bed and she can climb in and out when she wants I think she is feeling a little more charitable towards it.
On the topic of teeth, Isobel has many. I am sad to say I don't know how many but I think at least six on the bottom and six on the top, four of those being molars that caused some trouble coming through. It's hard to get her to open her mouth for me to count and her tooth brushing -which she asks for every time she is in the bath - "tee" - is mostly her sucking on the brush and me trying in vain to move the brush around. And while we talk about teeth, we can talk about biting too. There has been some of that, followed by mama closing up shop for a while and talking about how biting hurts mama. There have been acrobatic nursing sessions, and short ones and long ones - the latter usually at nap time or during the night. As thoughts turn to the the idea of trying for a sibling with some of those precious frozen embryos we have left, ( and many obstacles in the way) thoughts turn to weaning. And they turn to weaning when I am not thinking about TTC as well. It's a lot really. A toddler who wants to nurse can be very demanding and quite pushy! Some days, she is interested in the boob and can nurse on and off all day and some days she can forget about it for hours on end. Such is, I gather the life of a nursing toddler. And if you want to know why I am still nursing, as my doctor did, I would say that it is 20% nutrition and 80% comfort. Comfort for both of us. Except when she is pulling on my nipples or twisting them in odd directions.
I confess that many children's storybooks leave me cold. I just find them so boring and not in the least bit whimsical. SHOCK! Horror! Maybe it's a lack of interest in getting involved in this world of make believe that I so enjoyed as a child. Except there isn't much make believe in the books of a toddler. There's a lot of concrete. And predictable. And then people get so dewy eyed about the books they read as kids. I was an avid reader when I was a child and up til I went to college really, and I don't remember any of the books I had as a kid. Or barely any. Richard Scary and Beatrix Potter being the exception I think. And Edward Ardizzone's Tim books. My mother was the one who just insisted on us reading the books that she thought we would like and she was extremely dewy eyed about books. She loved to read aloud to us. So much so that when we got to be so good at reading big involved books she was disappointed that we didn't need her to read to us any more. I'm not talking about picture books, I am talking about the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings. Whenever someone would ask me if I had read a book I would think long and hard and often have to say, well I didn't read it to myself, but my mum read it to me. I admit to being a philistine about this but I am open to suggestions and to persuasion. And I know I have a problem. I would still rather her read a book than watch tv or a video. Thankfully others have bought Isobel lots of books, especially our friend Ann, who likes to think that she supplies all the best books especially ones involving dogs and animals, and she has quite a big library and I do read to her, but Susan does it a lot better and Isobel loves to just sit in her small and cute armchair we got from a re-sale store and do her own "reading".
Isobel has always been a real connector and a real engager. She loves to reach out to people and get them involved, whether it's in peek a boo, or games like "i give you this, you give it back to me." She loves seeing other children at the park and other places, even though she is pretty self focused in her play. She is at the stage now that when a visitor comes over she diverts all her attention to them and gives them her toys, her food, her smiles and greetings. When we are at the park she only wants to swing if there are other children swinging so she can watch them. At Sunday school she hands out all the crayons to everyone in the room.
She has become a climber - from climbing on top of and into the dolls house which she started today, to climbing on play structures at the park and letting herself slowly move down stairs as well as climbing up them. I think stairs are one of her favorite things. She can spot a big staircase at 200 paces. Her next favorite thing at the park is the slide. She doesn't go down it without me standing right there as she has not figured out the balance part yet and almost pitched over the side the other day. Or we go down together. I have the burns on my elbows to show for it. She wants to be outside but that means crawling everywhere, on all surfaces. Sigh. But I already said that.
So that's our Isobel for you. I am doing this to document her progress for her and for ourselves. But also to give readers a chance to catch up and see what she is up to. I know I love to read about what all your children are up to. After all many of you have been here since before she was born "or even thought of" as my mother would say. Except that isn't true, because I have been thinking about babies for as long as I have been blogging and beyond.
There has been lots going on in the blogosphere and lots in my life and head and I really want to address some of it. But before I do I really want to tell you about how Isobel is doing and what is going on with her.
She says a lot of words. You could call it a verbal explosion really. She is using many words ( we have a list of about 60) independently ( i.e. she initiates them and uses them to get what she wants or to point them out ) and she is also imitating words that we say and repeating them. She usually uses one word at a time. With a gesture. Sometimes she uses two, "my mama" in response to "who's coming in the door?" and "I down". She thinks that down is a word that means up or down and is not quite sure when to use up. Down is usually said in a very firm manner and tone. Isobel knows what she wants.
Her absolute favorite words that she likes to repeat over and over are Pat ( as in Postman Pat and his black and white cat), Cat as in any and all cats she sees, whether in real life, on a picture, on a bag of cat food or in a book. These are words that she seems to use to comfort and reassure herself as well as to describe. A new character in her life is Pooh, another very comforting word, along with "Boo" which is truncated and should have a b on the end and yes, it's how she gets her milk. She can use any of these words pat, cat, pooh, boo when she needs comforting or just because. She has also recently become quite worried about the trouble that Pooh is having with bees, and she can identify bees with the same preciseness that she identifies cats. They are more places than you think. Just ask Isobel! The declaration of Pooh and Pat also serves as a request for both of these favorites to be found and played on U tube.
Another word that serves many purposes is "hi". It's not just a greeting, it's a reminder that she is here, a joke, a loving word, so many things. So many cadences and inflections of it too. Bye is often said quite brightly and accompanied by a wave and a kiss blown with gusto and quite a bit of lip smacking. Usually accompanied by squeals of delight from us and other onlookers!
Isobel's favorite foods, apart from breast milk of course, are just recently oatmeal, peaches and broccoli. The broccoli has to be al dente with butter on it and / or cheese. The peaches come in their own juice, and she stabs them with a fork. Her use of utensils has progressed leaps and bounds, in the last week or two, mostly from her wanting to feed herself her oatmeal, which is a big relief to this mama, because until recently she was not really interested in cereal at all. This oatmeal has flax seeds in it and I sweeten it with Agav.e nectar and she loves it. We both eat the same thing for breakfast. She also can drink out of a regular cup, and the one she prefers is small and see through and sparkly. She also likes to dump the water over herself or onto her food and swim her hands around in it on her high chair tray.
We recently were lucky to have a friend of ours go to a big rummage sale for us ( we were both working - something that is a rarity these days - and another post ) to grab some really good cheap toys. The bad news is it was the family center where we have been going for play and support and camaraderie since Isobel was three months old and it closed down due to lack of funding. The good news was the Ann, the professional rummage sale chick, was able to score us some really good stuff. Armed with her own "sold" signs and a very bossy attitude she swiped up some bargains. Some favorites are a fold out fisher price dolls house / mansion that is a little scratched up, but at four dollars was a steal and has kept Isobel transfixed in pretend play for many hours since she got it a week ago. She has tried to get her size four feet to climb the tiny stairs, pitched barbie dolls and any stray little people off the roof, and peeked through the windows and doors. She even got her head stuck inside the lower story while trying to figure out where everything was. I think after our second rescue of her trapped head she decided not to do it again. The house did not come with furniture but Ann snagged a small little tykes table that fits inside and which Isobel also tried to sit on a number of times when our camera was close by ( see below for pictures ) and also some extra little people who go in and out, often quite unceremoniously. Isobel enjoys having little conversations with herself and also makes her dolls have conversations. We don't know what they are saying but we assume that it is polite and well mannered!
Another toy that we got was a little tykes red car with a yellow top for $7. Wow! She has a miniature one and now a toddler sized one. We couldn't resist a picture side by side. And now "car" is another favorite word that is often uttered - and often means let me go in my car that is in the hallway of the condo building and then let me go outside and scoot around on the paths and in the grass. Yes, I want to go out. Isobel does not yet say "out" but she does say "door" which when she bangs on it has a similar effect to "out". Another enticement in the out of doors is the water /sand table we got for $4 from the sale which has been a great distraction in our small back yard that has morning shade and is a great place to get wet and splash around. After two clothing changes I realized that a swim diaper is probably the best way to dress for this activity...
But is Isobel walking yet, you ask yourself? After all, she is seventeen months going on eighteen. (Actually she just turned 17 months )She should be walking. Her walking progresses like this. She scoots very fast and with a lean to one side and favoring one leg and arm kind of like a monkey. She occasionally army crawls, but it's way too slow and tedious. She has progressed to "walking" on her knees and doing this in an upright position. She can stand anywhere - in the bath, on the sofa cushions. She can raise from standing to squatting and back with no hands supported. She can do baby yoga, or what we call "up down bottom" beautifully. She can take a few steps unaided. But she is not walking. "No, she is not walking, but she is working hard on her vocabulary," I tell people. "Aren't you a bit worried?" No, of course not, it never occurred to me to be worried, just as it never occurred to me to think about adopting. My head is completely void of thoughts, which is why I rely on other people to have them for me. "What does the pediatrician say?" She says that the gross motor skills (i.e. walking and such ) have the most variation in age of attainment. Which means she is on the slow side but it's not dire yet. Yes, and can your baby scoot as fast and furious as mine? What does your pediatrician say about that? Mostly it's just a pain seeing her drag herself over every dirty surface that she feels the need to explore and that we decide is safe. Isn't that what shoes are for?
Much to mine and Susan's gratification, Isobel now has separation anxiety from both of us. Not horrible but definitely discernible. I know that sounds odd but it makes things more equal around here. It's not just the mama with the milky boobs that she cries for when she sees us disappear. It's the other mama. The one who has many tricks for soothing up her sleeve. The one who tells her stories and is funny and delightful and rocks her to sleep in the big brown chair. The mama that the boob mama has to sometime defer to and say, "please can you rock her to sleep, I can't do anything for her." That, my dears, is progress. And all because I have been gone some nights doing my "new" and soon to be "departed" job working on call in the ERs doing psychiatric evaluations. And Susan and Isobel developed their own way of doing bedtime without me. Which is fantastic. Apart from the bit where Isobel has to sleep by herself in her crib. That part is not going so well, although now that we converted it to a toddler bed and she can climb in and out when she wants I think she is feeling a little more charitable towards it.
On the topic of teeth, Isobel has many. I am sad to say I don't know how many but I think at least six on the bottom and six on the top, four of those being molars that caused some trouble coming through. It's hard to get her to open her mouth for me to count and her tooth brushing -which she asks for every time she is in the bath - "tee" - is mostly her sucking on the brush and me trying in vain to move the brush around. And while we talk about teeth, we can talk about biting too. There has been some of that, followed by mama closing up shop for a while and talking about how biting hurts mama. There have been acrobatic nursing sessions, and short ones and long ones - the latter usually at nap time or during the night. As thoughts turn to the the idea of trying for a sibling with some of those precious frozen embryos we have left, ( and many obstacles in the way) thoughts turn to weaning. And they turn to weaning when I am not thinking about TTC as well. It's a lot really. A toddler who wants to nurse can be very demanding and quite pushy! Some days, she is interested in the boob and can nurse on and off all day and some days she can forget about it for hours on end. Such is, I gather the life of a nursing toddler. And if you want to know why I am still nursing, as my doctor did, I would say that it is 20% nutrition and 80% comfort. Comfort for both of us. Except when she is pulling on my nipples or twisting them in odd directions.
I confess that many children's storybooks leave me cold. I just find them so boring and not in the least bit whimsical. SHOCK! Horror! Maybe it's a lack of interest in getting involved in this world of make believe that I so enjoyed as a child. Except there isn't much make believe in the books of a toddler. There's a lot of concrete. And predictable. And then people get so dewy eyed about the books they read as kids. I was an avid reader when I was a child and up til I went to college really, and I don't remember any of the books I had as a kid. Or barely any. Richard Scary and Beatrix Potter being the exception I think. And Edward Ardizzone's Tim books. My mother was the one who just insisted on us reading the books that she thought we would like and she was extremely dewy eyed about books. She loved to read aloud to us. So much so that when we got to be so good at reading big involved books she was disappointed that we didn't need her to read to us any more. I'm not talking about picture books, I am talking about the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings. Whenever someone would ask me if I had read a book I would think long and hard and often have to say, well I didn't read it to myself, but my mum read it to me. I admit to being a philistine about this but I am open to suggestions and to persuasion. And I know I have a problem. I would still rather her read a book than watch tv or a video. Thankfully others have bought Isobel lots of books, especially our friend Ann, who likes to think that she supplies all the best books especially ones involving dogs and animals, and she has quite a big library and I do read to her, but Susan does it a lot better and Isobel loves to just sit in her small and cute armchair we got from a re-sale store and do her own "reading".
Isobel has always been a real connector and a real engager. She loves to reach out to people and get them involved, whether it's in peek a boo, or games like "i give you this, you give it back to me." She loves seeing other children at the park and other places, even though she is pretty self focused in her play. She is at the stage now that when a visitor comes over she diverts all her attention to them and gives them her toys, her food, her smiles and greetings. When we are at the park she only wants to swing if there are other children swinging so she can watch them. At Sunday school she hands out all the crayons to everyone in the room.
She has become a climber - from climbing on top of and into the dolls house which she started today, to climbing on play structures at the park and letting herself slowly move down stairs as well as climbing up them. I think stairs are one of her favorite things. She can spot a big staircase at 200 paces. Her next favorite thing at the park is the slide. She doesn't go down it without me standing right there as she has not figured out the balance part yet and almost pitched over the side the other day. Or we go down together. I have the burns on my elbows to show for it. She wants to be outside but that means crawling everywhere, on all surfaces. Sigh. But I already said that.
So that's our Isobel for you. I am doing this to document her progress for her and for ourselves. But also to give readers a chance to catch up and see what she is up to. I know I love to read about what all your children are up to. After all many of you have been here since before she was born "or even thought of" as my mother would say. Except that isn't true, because I have been thinking about babies for as long as I have been blogging and beyond.
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| a girl and her car |
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| hi! |
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| me and my dolly and the dirty carpet! |
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| a girl and her aunty's hat! |
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| fun with my doll's house |
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| trying to sit on a tiny table! |
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| chilling and smiling |
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| reading and playing cards |
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| very serious reading |
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Fifteen months! I know, nifty title!
It's all true! Isobel is indeed, true to the title of the post, fifteen months today.
No, not one year and three months, but fifteen months. I guess you start counting different when you have kids. It's my birthday on Sunday and I am going to be 44 - or 528 months! Holy moly! But I digress.
It is also a year ago since Isobel and I went out into the world of meet ups and baby n me classes and baby massage. Since I went solo in the day time and dragged my poor three / four month old everywhere with me in an effort to "get out and about" and to make mommy friends. Now we have known those people for a whole year, their babies are now toddlers and we all still enjoy each others' company. Oh wow, that sounds so hokey and idyllic I know. It wasn't without some trials and errors along the way. And seriously we didn't make fast friends with everyone we met. But the ones who have stuck have stuck and I'm so glad Isobel has friends and so do I.
I have to tell you that is Isobel has definitely perfected the art of scooting. Yes, she was doing it at the one year mark post, but now she is absolutely proficient. She can do it with both hands, one hand or no hands. She can do it backwards! She can scoot holding something in both hands. Naked or clothed. Outside or inside. On the wet grass or the soft sand. Isobel's scooting brings smiles to the faces of sour puss strangers and opens up many a conversation with a passer by. It often brings criticism in the form of "get that child off that filthy floor!" But really one cannot stop Isobel scooting if there is a flat surface that her mamas deem vaguely sanitary!
Isobel continues to turn into a fun sweet and yes, still Happy-Go-Lucky toddler. She loves reading books by herself (and just tonight started putting the books right side up while reading them!), "sorting" clothes - which usually means throwing them around her neck or over her shoulder, playing peek a boo ( still a favorite), doing laps around the kitchen island, carrying her baby dolly around and putting her hat on. She becomes frustrated if she can't put the dolly's hat on and asks us for help if she can't do something ( we think it's "help" - although it sounds a bit like a whine!) She has figured out how to make her cars go forwards sometimes ( though they often still go sideways) and has matched her first shape ( a star ) to its corresponding hole. She loves fridge magnets and just got some magnetic animals and letters so our fridge door is very full. She recognizes her favorite song, The Adventures of Isabel by Natalie Merchant, introduced to her at a very young age by this lovely blogger and bops and dances to it, as she does to most music.
Isobel can identify and say the words for cat and pig and she knows a cow says moo and makes a very cute monkey sound. Her favorite words at the moment are cool and no ( with a shake of the head - where did she get that shake from - I don't shake my head when I say no!) She has taken her own shirt off and loves to get in the bath and play independently with her toys, while I sit next to her and get splashed every so often. Our Christmas lights are still up on our mantelpiece and they reflect on the ceiling and walls with big circles of light - which delight her. At night time we turn all the big lights off and all just look at the LED light show and marvel at it. Last night Isobel deliberately sat down in a red circle of light that was reflected onto the carpet.
Our little free spirit really hates having her feet covered - to the point that when we tried putting footed pajamas on her after a long hiatus, she cried and screamed till we took them off. Socks and shoes get similarly short shrift - although the other day she kept them both on for about 3 hours - in the car, at the play date and home again. Not sure what that was about but it has not been repeated.
Yes, we live in a technological age and ours is quite a techy household, thanks mostly to mommy. I would still be in the dark ages without S, but we have our fair share of technology beginning with "I" and one beginning with flat screen "T". Yes, Isobel knows what the remote control is and she picks it up and says "T" when she wants to watch. Yes, I know, horrible mommies. When I was pregnant and before, I would never have expected myself to let my kid watch TV, and I wish it was in a different room hidden away, but it's in our living room and it's omnipresent. And we like it. We usually only watch when she has gone to bed, and we let her watch kids TV when we are exhausted or sick or both. She usually loses interest after 10 minutes or so. And her favorite I Pad app was Peekaboo barn for the longest time but she has suddenly developed an intense dislike of it and cries and shakes her head if we try to put it on.
For those of you who are shaking your heads at our TV watching, I have to tell you that she is deeply interested in the guitar, dulcimer and banjo that we have in our dining room and can bang a lovely rhythm on the drum. And just started doing Wiggle worms, where she dances in the middle of the room to the music and practically ignores me - which I take as a welcome sign that she is securely attached to me. To my delight does look over her shoulder to check that I am still there and that I am taking notice of her.
We have had our second and third cold / virus and also experienced vomiting in a taxi in her new convertible car seat. Fortunately we were inches from home and the clean up wasn't too bad. Just call it a rite of passage.
And of course you want to know if she is walking. Well, she took her first steps about a month ago and for a few days was interested in practicing sporadically, usually in the evening, and usually her walking and standing practice was permeated by bouts of walking around on all fours in a circle. But then she stopped and has not really tried since. Except today she pushed a cart along at our play date, and at Wiggleworms when we were doing a circle game and everyone was walking, she let me guide her by holding her up and she actually propelled herself forward with some motivation. And she stands all the time - usually leaning on something while she does it. We are trying really hard to be cool about it. "She'll walk when she is ready.."
Did I tell you about her divine scooting?
Happy Fifteen Months, Isobel, from your besotted mama and mommy!
No, not one year and three months, but fifteen months. I guess you start counting different when you have kids. It's my birthday on Sunday and I am going to be 44 - or 528 months! Holy moly! But I digress.
It is also a year ago since Isobel and I went out into the world of meet ups and baby n me classes and baby massage. Since I went solo in the day time and dragged my poor three / four month old everywhere with me in an effort to "get out and about" and to make mommy friends. Now we have known those people for a whole year, their babies are now toddlers and we all still enjoy each others' company. Oh wow, that sounds so hokey and idyllic I know. It wasn't without some trials and errors along the way. And seriously we didn't make fast friends with everyone we met. But the ones who have stuck have stuck and I'm so glad Isobel has friends and so do I.
I have to tell you that is Isobel has definitely perfected the art of scooting. Yes, she was doing it at the one year mark post, but now she is absolutely proficient. She can do it with both hands, one hand or no hands. She can do it backwards! She can scoot holding something in both hands. Naked or clothed. Outside or inside. On the wet grass or the soft sand. Isobel's scooting brings smiles to the faces of sour puss strangers and opens up many a conversation with a passer by. It often brings criticism in the form of "get that child off that filthy floor!" But really one cannot stop Isobel scooting if there is a flat surface that her mamas deem vaguely sanitary!
Isobel continues to turn into a fun sweet and yes, still Happy-Go-Lucky toddler. She loves reading books by herself (and just tonight started putting the books right side up while reading them!), "sorting" clothes - which usually means throwing them around her neck or over her shoulder, playing peek a boo ( still a favorite), doing laps around the kitchen island, carrying her baby dolly around and putting her hat on. She becomes frustrated if she can't put the dolly's hat on and asks us for help if she can't do something ( we think it's "help" - although it sounds a bit like a whine!) She has figured out how to make her cars go forwards sometimes ( though they often still go sideways) and has matched her first shape ( a star ) to its corresponding hole. She loves fridge magnets and just got some magnetic animals and letters so our fridge door is very full. She recognizes her favorite song, The Adventures of Isabel by Natalie Merchant, introduced to her at a very young age by this lovely blogger and bops and dances to it, as she does to most music.
Isobel can identify and say the words for cat and pig and she knows a cow says moo and makes a very cute monkey sound. Her favorite words at the moment are cool and no ( with a shake of the head - where did she get that shake from - I don't shake my head when I say no!) She has taken her own shirt off and loves to get in the bath and play independently with her toys, while I sit next to her and get splashed every so often. Our Christmas lights are still up on our mantelpiece and they reflect on the ceiling and walls with big circles of light - which delight her. At night time we turn all the big lights off and all just look at the LED light show and marvel at it. Last night Isobel deliberately sat down in a red circle of light that was reflected onto the carpet.
Our little free spirit really hates having her feet covered - to the point that when we tried putting footed pajamas on her after a long hiatus, she cried and screamed till we took them off. Socks and shoes get similarly short shrift - although the other day she kept them both on for about 3 hours - in the car, at the play date and home again. Not sure what that was about but it has not been repeated.
Yes, we live in a technological age and ours is quite a techy household, thanks mostly to mommy. I would still be in the dark ages without S, but we have our fair share of technology beginning with "I" and one beginning with flat screen "T". Yes, Isobel knows what the remote control is and she picks it up and says "T" when she wants to watch. Yes, I know, horrible mommies. When I was pregnant and before, I would never have expected myself to let my kid watch TV, and I wish it was in a different room hidden away, but it's in our living room and it's omnipresent. And we like it. We usually only watch when she has gone to bed, and we let her watch kids TV when we are exhausted or sick or both. She usually loses interest after 10 minutes or so. And her favorite I Pad app was Peekaboo barn for the longest time but she has suddenly developed an intense dislike of it and cries and shakes her head if we try to put it on.
For those of you who are shaking your heads at our TV watching, I have to tell you that she is deeply interested in the guitar, dulcimer and banjo that we have in our dining room and can bang a lovely rhythm on the drum. And just started doing Wiggle worms, where she dances in the middle of the room to the music and practically ignores me - which I take as a welcome sign that she is securely attached to me. To my delight does look over her shoulder to check that I am still there and that I am taking notice of her.
We have had our second and third cold / virus and also experienced vomiting in a taxi in her new convertible car seat. Fortunately we were inches from home and the clean up wasn't too bad. Just call it a rite of passage.
And of course you want to know if she is walking. Well, she took her first steps about a month ago and for a few days was interested in practicing sporadically, usually in the evening, and usually her walking and standing practice was permeated by bouts of walking around on all fours in a circle. But then she stopped and has not really tried since. Except today she pushed a cart along at our play date, and at Wiggleworms when we were doing a circle game and everyone was walking, she let me guide her by holding her up and she actually propelled herself forward with some motivation. And she stands all the time - usually leaning on something while she does it. We are trying really hard to be cool about it. "She'll walk when she is ready.."
Did I tell you about her divine scooting?
Happy Fifteen Months, Isobel, from your besotted mama and mommy!
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| at the park on the last warm day in January |
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| swinging! |
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| tired or thoughtful? |
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| sorting the beers in the fridge |
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| doing maintenance on baby dolly's stroller! |
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