Especially for Grandparents

Kids open Christmas gifts. I'm told it happens every year. So this post will probably only interest Teagan's grandparents. Here's a video of her favourite gifts of 2012. Enjoy!

Mummy's no dummy. Unless you ask Teagan.

We were having a nice family outing today, hitting Burger King for lunch and sundaes and heading to the park. Teagan was uncharacteristically well behaved while we were eating - I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact that she ate dessert first. I was basking in the glory of being a happy little family as Teagan pointed to Buddy over and over, saying "Daddy. Daddy. Daddy." Then she started to go back and forth between "Daddy" and "Mummy." It all became too much for her little brain and I became "Dummy." An innocent mistake, I thought. And then it happened again. 

I blame myself - we have been watching a little too much Chip 'n' Dale's Rescue Rangers around here since Christmas.

Hola, soy Teagan.

There's a chance we may need to scale back Dora at our house. Had I had even an inkling of how obsessed Teagan would become, I probably wouldn't have introduced them on that fateful day in March at the tender age of 5 months.

 

Some of the latest evidence in favour of us limiting exposure to The Explorer:

• Telling me to "Arriba" when she wants to go faster.

• Upon opening any of her Dora books, she opens with "Hola!" 

• We were praying with Brandon's sister's family and while her cousin (3 months younger) was saying the prayer, Teagan was counting in the background. In Spanish.
• "Dear Heavenly Father..."
  "Uno, dos, tres..."
  "Thank thee this day..."
  "quatro, cinco, seis..."
  "Amen."
  "siete, OCHO!" Fantastico.
• She got a backpack toy for Christmas and immediately after gasping with excitement, asked "Where map go?"

She ran around the airport on our way home from Christmas, yelling "HI! I TEAGAN!" so she still speaks mostly English. She reminds of the little boy in the movie "Fun with Dick and Jane" who has a nanny who speaks Spanish to him, so he wanders around the house speaking only Spanish. 

Not sure what it is about "Doa", but the girl just can't get enough. I was lucky enough to snag 4 Dora & Diego DVDs for $5 from a Facebook swap. Brandon tells me that's just what we need. Mas Dora.

One Step Forward. Two Poops Back.

To say we're potty training would be an outright lie - I'm not ready and she's not ready, so I'm not going to force it. I should, however, figure out what the heck I'm supposed to do.  Just so she warms up to the idea, I've been sitting her on it every now and again when she takes an interest. I thought she should sit on it with some success, so I manipulated the fact that she physically cannot resist peeing while the bath is running. So I've been sticking her on the potty and the potty in the bath. Works every time. Tonight, she begged to stay on the potty, but in an effort to conserve the water we had running, I insisted she get off. 

I should have listened. 

We washed, we rinsed, we dropped a Crayola bath tint in there with her as a reward for behaving uncharacteristically well while rinsing, then we saw it. Correction: them. Have you ever tried to chase down poop in the tub? I've done easier things. We whisked her over to the shower, which went infinitely better than expected, and redid all our hard work, sans floaties.

 

Never a dull moment with this one.

All was TOO quiet on the Western front.

Teagan was reading upstairs, as she is wont to do, so I decided to stay downstairs and blog about how wonderful she is. Was. In hindsight, I was asking for it. But, hey - even the best moms need a break...and so do I.

I couldn't hear her reading to herself or singing the ABCs anymore, so I ventured upstairs to see what she was up to. I smelled it before I saw it. Mod Podge (a whole jar), a futon and a toddler. In one sticky, glossy mess.

 

I HAD to take a photo, all the while remembering watching America's Funniest Home Videos and thinking "why are the parents taking a video when they should be cleaning up and disciplining?!" If you don't laugh at it, you'll cry. So I snapped a photo and then snapped into action. I'd love to tell you that I didn't raise my voice. I'd love to tell you that I didn't throw her in the tub and dump jugs of water on her while she screamed and gurgled. But I did. The futon pad is ruined. It won't come off for me to wash it, so it's festering in my bathtub, soaked through from vain attempts to wash off the glue. I can't deal with it right now, so I'm writing about it. Poor Buddy has no idea what he's coming home to.

I will say that while I was pulling my hair out (literally - I had dried Mod Podge in my hair) and wringing my hands over a ruined futon, I remembered that Brandon insisted we keep the pad from our otherwise useless futon that stands disassembled in our garage. What a wise, wise man. Don't tell him I said that :) Another reminder that things are things. But I won't be able to laugh about it until tomorrow.
I went into her room while she was sleeping, just to look at her face and remember how sweet she really is. I went with the intent of waking her up, since it's after 5:00, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. She was sleeping so soundly and looked so angelic. It isn't often that I see her sleeping - I usually steer clear of her room to avoid the risk of waking her prematurely. But I stood and watched her for minutes and finally set my finger in her open hand and she gripped it, just like she did when she was a baby. And just like that, all was forgiven. Not to self: remember her like this the next time she destroys something.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Teagan learning to communicate has been wonderful and maddening at the same time. Everything sounds like a demand, but I suppose when if I only knew a few words, and had pretty basic needs, I would sound like a tyrant too. Here are a few of the things I'm hearing. All. Day. Long.

"Coom on Mummy. I need milk." Her first fully formed sentence was a demanding one and it took me completely by surprise yesterday as she grabbed my hand and walked me down the stairs to the fridge.

"Here." Handing you anything from a spatula to a crayon and wanting you to guess what she wants you to do with it.

"Deesh one." Usually when she's picking out a movie.

"Copcorn!" We made the mistake of having a movie night as a family with a blanket on the floor and a bowl of popcorn. Now every time we watch anything on TV, she wants "copcorn".

"WAIT! Wait! Wait!" If she isn't finished with you, you'd better not think about walking away. We had a friend take care of her while we were at Scouts and by the time we could leave to pick her up, I had to run straight off to a choir practice. She was just around the corner, so Buddy said they would walk home, so I pulled out of the driveway and drove off, but not before Teagan saw me. Buddy tells me she cried "Wait, Mummy! WAAAAIIIIT!" all the way home. So glad I didn't hear it!

"Down. Sit down, Mummy. Read." Followed by "Pees" when I give her the look. Be sure to sit exactly where she points. If you're off, it doesn't count. She's detail oriented. No idea where she gets that from.

"Oh goodness." I said this one time, to get her excited about something and she's been saying it ever since.

"Sua why!" In a big Super Why phase. It's geared towards children learning to read, but she loves letters, so happily follows along with what she can. His sidekicks Princess Pea, Red Riding Hood and Pig sound something like this: "Pincess P, Widing and Peeg."

"Soo tot!" a.k.a. It's too hot!

"Seep!" She loves to wake people up when they're "sleeping", so out of the blue she'll ask you to go to sleep so she can yell "Wake up, Daddy!" It's a fun game.

"Pitty pincess." As hard as I tried to avoid it, she's totally into princesses. I suppose I should clarify: I'm on board with princesses, especially Disney ones, as long as she doesn't adopt the "I'm a princess and I can do no wrong" attitude that often goes hand-in-hand with all the crowns and sparkles. (fingers crossed)

"Meeook." She still signs "milk" but she's getting better at saying the word.

"You're so cuuuute." She gets right in our little friend McKenna's face and lowers her voice (backwards, I know) whenever she talks to her.

She sings the ABCs all the time, but you'll need Buddy or I to interpret if you want to follow along. She also counts to 14 (she shocked me the other day). Once you hit 14, everything else is 19.

She's so much smarter than I give her credit for and she surprises me all the time. It's weird to almost be able to hold a conversation with your baby. We have conversations all the time, but most of it is still gibberish...on both sides.

Nigh Night!

Remember how I said that lightning should strike me if I ever complained about Teagan's sleeping habits? Well, that was then. This is now.
She's going through a phase, that happened to coincide with daylight savings time. She usually sleeps well past Brandon leaving for work at 7:15, but for a few weeks after the time change, she was up closer to 6. While that may not sound painfully early to you, when you're accustomed to her sleeping two more hours, it makes a big difference. Her only saving grace is that when Brandon would bring her to me in bed so he could shower, she would RUN to me, arms outstretched. She couldn't wait to hug me, and while I could have waited an hour or two more, I couldn't stay frustrated with her while she grinned her gap-toothed grin and squeeze me with all her might.
We're back to normal now, as far as mornings are concerned, but she seems to need a little extra love at night these days. She wakes up in the middle of the night, crying and calling for us and it's so unlike her that we always go in to see what's happening. Her problems are always solved by cuddling with one of us in the rocking chair for a few minutes, swaying back and forth, singing songs and stroking her hair. She usually falls asleep on me, which hasn't happened in ages and I relish the moments (for the most part). What is it about sleeping babies that just melts away any frustration or sadness? She looks so angelic and while I may feel differently at the time, in the morning I realize I would rather have cuddled her for 15 minutes than gotten 15 more minutes of sleep. So worth it.
Many a time, I think she's asleep and I lay her down in the crib and tiptoe out. She sighs "nigh night" and rolls over with her three binkies and sleeps through until morning. Since I was a kid, I always liked for "I love you" to be the last thing I say to my family at night...you know, just in case. My mum can attest that I would say it over and over again when I'd done something to upset her and wouldn't give in until she'd reciprocated. "You never know," I would always say...quickly followed by "I love you."
So I always tell Teagan that I love her, and she answers back with "Ya you. Nigh night."
"Night night. Love you."
"Ya you. Nigh night." Apparently the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree. It just rolls backward a little.

Alternative Lifestyles

Teagan pluralizes everything. From "Novies" to "binkies" to "Grandmas", when she's only referring to one. She calls us "Mummies" and "Daddies" a lot, which leads me to believe that if it continues, people may wonder about us. While it indeed takes a village, it's just Brandon and I filling the role of Mummy and Daddy.

"Oh goodness?"

I said it once, trying to get her excited about something and now "Oh goodness" is her go-to phrase for anything out of the ordinary. And it always sounds like a question. Sometimes she'll throw in "Oh my", but that's on rare occasions. Apparently I need to watch what's coming out of my mouth!

Silent Night? Fat chance.

I thought it was a brilliant idea to teach Little T to say "Help" instead of whining and grunting incessantly when she can't do or reach something. And it WAS brilliant. Until last night. 

Picture this: a Christmas fireside at church, with beautiful music and reverent silence in between. That is, reverent silence broken up by cries of "Howp! Howp! from a tiny voice in the back. Literally a far cry from a silent night.

Good Grief

The loss of all those innocent children in Connecticut yesterday has been haunting my thoughts since I heard the news. 

I'm not rallying for harsher gun laws or advocating for those with mental illnesses - there's more than enough of that out there at the moment. I'm thinking of those poor families who sent their children off to school and couldn't have imagined never seeing them again and I'm just holding my little family close. Last night, we spread a blanket and snuggled together to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, thinking that Teagan would last 5 minutes like she does with anything else that isn't Dora. She proved us wrong and didn't budge from the blanket for the entire thing PLUS the other special on the DVD, It's Christmastime Again, Charlie Brown. A personal best of sitting in one place for 45 minutes. At one point during the movie, she looked me right in the eye (I still get emotional when she makes direct eye contact with me), gave me a little kiss and put her little arm as far as she could around me. Words can't express how wonderful it felt, so I insisted Brandon take a picture so I could remember how sweet it was.

 

All day, she ran up to me and gave me great big hugs and let me hold her for as long as I wanted. Somehow she must have known that I needed to give and receive a little extra love yesterday. And the cherry on top of a super sweet day was Teagan dancing around like the Charlie Brown characters. She asked us to rewind it again and again and she did the moves every time. The girl's got rhythm, there's no doubt about that. I'm so glad she's mine and that I have her to snuggle with on days like this. I'm sorry that while I was watching cartoon characters saying "good grief" that there is nothing good about those parents out there grieving for their children. I will hug mine a little tighter and pray that I will be a better parent for having heard about their loss and rededicate myself to being a more kind and loving mother. Good grief indeed.

Drinking in the Rain

Yesterday's storm left a plethora of puddles in our backyard, specifically where the original cement meets the newer stuff. Teagan's friend Keaton had come over to play and wanted to go outside. Knowing that she'd gravitate towards the puddles (who wouldn't?) I insisted she wear her wee rain boots. I should have given her a straw instead.

Sending her out to play in the puddles didn't yield the results I had expected, but it shouldn't have surprised me that she surprised me. She's so creative and wonderfully weird. I tried to stop her from lapping up the pools of water that had collected on various outdoor toys, but was unsuccessful there. I didn't swipe it away in time to stop her from drinking the water from the bubble container I'd left on the picnic table. So I suppose it shouldn't surprise me when she burps bubbles later today.

She was soaked from head to toe (having tripped in the puddle) and a saturated diaper (having lost a shoving contest with Keaton and landing on her bum) and she loved every minute of it. She's such a hilarious example to me of making the best of things - just like her Dad. She claimed multiple times that she wasn't thirsty, so I finally gave in and stopped trying to stop her. I just stood in the doorway with a towel, clean clothes and open arms, waiting for my little puddle licker. Partly because I'm mellowing out as a parent and partly because of a tragedy this morning in Connecticut. A 20 something man marched into the elementary school where his mother taught and shot and killed her and, several other teachers and 20 children between the ages of 5 and 10. Heartbreaking. Absolutely heartbreaking. My heart aches for those parents who instead of holding their children close tonight, and reading them bedtime stories will be weeping and wondering about the life cut so tragically short. Rest assured I'll be a little nicer to my sweet, silly goose today. Today she can lick all the puddles she wants.

Let's Give 'Em Something to Talk About

Parents, you've been there. Perfect strangers passing comments on your child. Comments that have been made hundreds of times before. I nod along politely as I usually can't come up with anything to say, witty or otherwise. Because people (friends and strangers alike) tend to say the same things about Teagan, I thought it would be fun for her to look back and read about some of those compliments and observations to see what set her apart as a beautiful little baby.

Here's just a glimpse of what people having been saying since she was born:

THE HAIR
"<gasp!>" Unfortunately this was the doctor. Then an uncomfortable amount of silence from someone who's just sliced open my uterus, and... "Wow! She's got a lot of blonde hair!" Giant sigh of relief from me.

The hair comments have continued over the past two years.
"Wow! It's SO long!"
"It's SO blonde!"

THE CHEEKS
"Ooh, I could just squeeze those cheeks all day!" (Okay, that one's me.)
"What is she eating? Oh, it's just her cheeks."
"Those droopy cheeks are darling."
"Look at those cheeks!"

THE EYES
"WOW! They're SO blue!" over and over and over

THE LIPS
"I wish I had lips like that."
"They're so full and heart shaped!"

THE SKIN
"She's so fair."
"I thought my kid was pasty."
"I've never seen a baby so white!"
I see THIS in her future (in a tasteful one piece):

THE HEIGHT - hands down, the most commonly occurring
It's typically just Teagan and I out and about during the day, so people tend to be a little shocked when they see how tall she is, because clearly she doesn't get it from me.
"SHE'S HUGE!"
"I can't believe she's only two! Are you sure?"
"She is SO tall." 
"How tall IS she?"

And that's a little snapshot for Little T so she can find out what people are saying about her. And they say a lot.

What do YOU do in 25 mph wind gusts?

We blow bubbles.

What with it being frigid and all, I insisted she wear a warm jacket. I reached for a sweet little number with a furry hood. It was a little snug, so when I zipped it up, her giant cheeks became a little smushed, impeding her speech.

Teagan: "Rrr."
Me: "Yes, your jacket is warm."
Teagan: "RRR."
Me: "Yep, still warm."
(this went on for a while)
Teagan: "No. Lion. Teagan. ROARRR."

Seeing that I clearly wasn't understanding what she was trying to say, she backed up and spelled it out for me. I keep underestimating her - she's so much smarter than I give her credit for!

So the lion and I stepped outside to blow some bubbles. Correction, we stepped outside to hold our bubble blower aloft (a la He-Man) and let the intense wind gusts do the bubble blowing for us. It was actually really fun. Chilly, but entertaining. And I wasn't out of breath at the end, so that was a plus.

She Wuvs to Weed.

(That's how she says it.) I wish she actually loved to weed, since I can only seem to keep those plants alive, but I'll settle for a love of READING.

I don't remember what the carpet looks like in her bedroom. She had a set of A-Z Sesame Street books on top of her bookshelf, but now they spend more time in her hands or serving as a literary fortress around her. I find myself getting frustrated at times when I wind up having to pick up after her (she picks up a few, but I can't expect her to pick up her entire library) but after giving it some thought, if it means that my daughter is developing a love for books I will bend over 1000 times a day. Which would be less than I'm currently bending over. I may have to start squatting instead, and count that as my workout.

 

On the bright side, I always know where she is. She leaves a literary trail wherever she goes. I've made sure that she never has to go very far to find a book - they're upstairs, downstairs and in my purse. I'm a mobile library.

Sometimes she'll curl up in our overstuffed chairs, other times she'll lay down on the floor - looking eerily like a teenage girl flipping through a magazine, she'll sit at her little table like she's doing homework or in her wee Dora chair...with my library books. She thinks she's big stuff.

 

 

Brandon reads to her at bedtime, usually 4 of the Sesame Street books I referenced earlier. They've read through them so many times that she knows when certain words show up. It's kind of adorable. I caught her reading the other day and she uncharacteristically allowed me to video her without her begging to see the baby in the camera. While it isn't going to win an Oscar and it isn't "My Baby Can Read" material, I thought grandparents might get a kick out of her weeding. 

HOARDERS: Toddler Edition

You can take the girl out of Vegas...

That's funny, I remember her having pants on BEFORE naptime. 

1, 2, Skip a Few...

We've been counting body parts lately, trying to make some progress when it comes to counting. And we would be making progress...if I actually had 7 eyes.
I've been making a concerted effort to turn every day things into learning opportunities as best I can. That usually means we end up counting eyes, ears, fingers and toes. Yep, I was born to teach (that was meant to drip with sarcasm.)

There have been a few setbacks. Namely, the numbers "4, 5 and 6". She counts her eyes well enough, but when it came to counting mine, she tells me I've been blessed with 7.

But today, we had a breakthrough. On the way home from some errands, I had a Dora CD blasting. You know, to entertain Teagan. I stopped belting out the inane backpack theme song long enough to hear her count from 1 to 7 (4,5 and 6 included) of her own accord! Hooray! Then I realized that I was paying more attention to the music and turned it off. After Shakira's duet with Dora, of course.

I respectfully disagree.

Teagan thinks she's ready to pour her own cereal. I respectfully disagree.

Feelings. Nothing more than feelings.

We've been learning about emotions lately - happy and sad, mostly. We've been playing with the tried and true face that smiles one way and frowns when you turn it upside down. Just as entertaining as when I was little.

She's got a pretty decent happy face (apart from when I tried to take a picture, of course. She loves to practice switching between her happy and sad faces.

 

Her pout could use a little work. It looks more like a Maybelline commercial than a sad face and it's hilarious to hear her saying "shad" through those ridiculously full lips. But I'll take it.

Stroller Down Memory Lane

We walk a lot. That happens when you don't have a car during the day. We were strolling around the neighbourhood the other day and I was smacked upside the head with a memory as clear as day.

I remember pushing Teagan in that very stroller when she was a week old. To CVS on Warm Springs, just down the street from our condo. It was our first outing together after my Mum went home and it took me a laughable amount of time to psych myself up for it. (Had I known that my outings with a newborn would be the easiest I could hope for in the first two years, I wouldn't have spent so much time on my couch. Hindsight is 20/20.)

 

I took it upon myself to home my punctuality, setting a goal for a departure time in order to practice being on time for important things like doctors' appointments and church. Yep, I'm a little neurotic. I nursed her 5 minutes before my intended departure time so she couldn't possibly be hungry when we got to the store. But just in case, I pumped and packed a bottle - I really didn't want her to cry. (Looking back, a crying newborn isn't nearly as offensive as a screaming toddler - people don't really mind the former.) I successfully unfolded the stroller, having failed at my first attempt the day prior and was reduced to a crumped, snivveling mass in the car park. I had gone through the same routine, in preparation to make the trek to the front of the complex to get the mail, and spent 10 minutes trying to figure out how to unfold the stroller to rest the carseat on top. After shedding a few tears, I hoisted the infant and carseat (which I technically shouldn't have done while recovering from a C-section - but how else are you supposed to do anything?) back up the 20 steps to our condo to sit an stew about what a terrible mother I'd turned out to be. (For the record, now I can fold it up with one hand. And apparently it doesn't have any bearing on my mothering skills!)

Our CVS run went off without a hitch and on the way back home, I called my Mum with a full report...basically that she slept the whole time. She sat in her carseat in the stroller, facing me and I remember looking at her tiny little sleeping face through the peephole in the stroller's shade and just taking in the moment.

Flash forward to today, as we were walking around the block and I looked through that same peephole at that same baby and I couldn't see her, because she was sitting on the edge of her seat, pointing at things around the neighbourhood, taking it all in and yelling things out to me. It was a bit surreal. When did she grow up?

Sweet and Sour.

Great on chicken nuggets, not a good colour on my daughter. Thursday was sour. She's never been so moody. If I looked at her wrong, she burst into tears, running to the other side of the room (or backyard) collapsing in tears and crying uncontrollably. To say it wasn't a little maddening would be a lie. I couldn't do anything right for her and she just cried. ALL day long. It had me questioning whether I was cut out for motherhood. That may sound terrible, but I think it's important to document the bad with the good, so years from now when my family is reading this, they'll know that motherhood is hard. It isn't hugs, kisses and happiness all the time - and that's okay. I want to be real to them, even if it means that I confess that I wasn't a great parent all the time (and they weren't well-behaved kids all the time). I'm guilty of selective journaling - picking out the impressive stuff, or the fun stuff and leaving out the embarrassing and the mundane.

 

But Friday she was sweet. Deliciously sweet. We had a GOOD day. I'm talking a jumping-on-the-bed-together, reading-on-my-lap, playing-hide-and-seek, piggy-back-rides-around-the-living-room good day. One of those days that you envision before you actually become a parent. We could have been a Huggies commercial. 

Now, I don't say any of this to toot my own horn, but I wanted to record my feelings to be able to remind myself what a good parenting day feels like - it's been a while. We were both in sync today. We'd make eye contact and smile and laugh. We had tickle fights and she giggled a giggle that melted my heart. and reminded me how lucky I am to be her Mum. She made a concerted effort to look right at me and we'd have conversations. Granted, I didn't catch a good portion of what she said, but there was back and forth, which was considerably more pleasant than the screaming and whining I had to endure on Thursday. 

 

Today she was sweet and sour within minutes of eachother, up and down all evening. She woke up from a good nap with a bad attitude. She refused to tell me what she wanted, the best she would do is cry in the general direction of something. She couldn't be pleased. Maddening.She rarely cuddles with her Dad (breaks his heart) but with a well-placed episode of Duck Tales, a little Halloween candy and the world's most comfortable blanket, they banked some cute cuddle time.

After a few minutes of cuddling she jumped up all of a sudden and played Stop & Go, which she loved. Coloured, which she loved. Practiced shapes, which she loved. Then she got whiny again. Holy mood swings, Batman. We endured dinner and dreaded bedtime. Then she found a princess book (just starting to get into princesses) and got really excited about it. She identified all of them by the colours of their dresses (names will come later), a proud moment since up to this point everything has been "yeyo". We started to sing "I Am a Child of God" as part of our bedtime routine and she chimed in on a surprising number of words. It's in the rotation of bedtime songs, but we don't sing it very often. To hear her singing along melted my heart and ended the day on the sweetest note possible. Or so I thought. Then she sat perfectly still for the prayer with her arms folded and arms closed. And the cherry on top: she kissed me a goodnight kiss before running into her dad's arms for her bedtime stories. All is right in the world tonight. Couldn't love her more.

We have good days and we have bad days, but the good FAR outweigh the bad. Sometimes it's hard to remember that in the face of one of the bad ones. Sometimes you have to take the sour with the sweet.

Isn't it about...time?

Lately I've been obsessing over recording Teagan's every funny move. I just can't seem to find the time. It either takes me away from her or away from Brandon. Ah, the irony of trying to be a family historian infringing on time with your family.

I try to squeeze a blog post in while Teagan's napping, but there are so many other things vying for that same block of time that I can't seem to get it all done. Generally speaking, she's content playing on her own, so selfishly I sit at the island on the laptop while she colours next to me. It feels more than a little bit hypocritical.

So lately I've tried to implement a "Drop everything" policy when it comes to Teagan wanting me to read her a book or colour with her - I'll never refuse her the opportunity to read or create. And when I say "everything" it generally consists of writing a blog post, reading a book or wasting time on Facebook - so it isn't anything important. I don't mean to spoil her, but I want her to know that she's more important than clickety clacking on the computer.
Making a family history AND recording it is a balancing act I've yet to figure out. Wish me luck!

"Cars are fun!"

A dear friend lent us her car while she's out of town for a few weeks. While I'm incredibly grateful and appreciative, I think Teagan's the one who's enjoying it most. While she's already been to a library storytime AND the park, she seemed to get the biggest kick out of sitting in the car after a particularly miserable trip to the grocery store.

I kept her in the car while I unloaded the groceries and when I came to retrieve her, she would not be retrieved - she was having too much fun exploring. Happy that she wasn't begging to watch TV, I entertained her for a while, disappearing around the car and popping up in a different place. The wind was miserable, so I ducked inside the car. 20 minutes later, we were still hanging out in a parked car in the driveway. I tried not to make eye contact with our neighbours - they already think we're weird. She was loving it, repeating over and over "Cars are fun!" - she hasn't said many sentences, but this was one. She climbed back and forth between the back and front and took a turn "driving" all the while pretending to honk the horn and saying "beep!" (I may be a bit liberal in my usage of the horn.) After a while she accidentally honked the horn and the look of surprise on her face was absolutely priceless. Almost as priceless as the face she made when she pulled the lever that collapses the seat forward into a < shape. She makes the cutest sandwich.

It was so much fun to watch her entertain herself for so long - longer than she plays with any of the toys that have been bought for her. All we need is another car! She was yelling, "Cars are fun!" and I was yelling, "I've got to get me one of these!" Apparently we need to get out more.

It reminded me that sometimes it's the simple things in life that get overlooked. It also reminded me that it might be a struggle to convince her to get buckled into her carseat the next time.

Living with an Amazon Baby

The title of my theoretical book, intended to help other vertically challenged mothers cope with their impossibly tall children. I know you shouldn't place blame, but in this case it's clear that Brandon is to blame.

It seems like she's growing every day. How do I measure this? Not by a growth chart but by the objects that she manages to reach, pull down or turn off. 

Nothing is safe anymore. She's been able to reach our kitchen countertops for a while, but now her reach is extended inland, so knifes and the like have to be directly in the middle. Sigh. She loves to "cime" on the bar stools because she just doesn't feel tall enough. She's also found a way to "cime" the cabinets, squeezing her fat little feet onto the lips of the cabinets and giving herself another 6 inches. Just what I need.

Lately she's taken to turning the lights off. But she isn't quite tall enough to turn them back on again, leaving us in the dark on more than one occasion until one of us can pry our butts from the couch to re-illuminate the room. Or I could just wait until tomorrow when she's tall enough to turn them off AND on.

She ain't heavy, she's my daughter.

The results are in. She's been weighed, she's been measured. And at 2 (and 12 days) my "baby" is no baby any more.

Head circumference: 48.5 cm = 75th percentile

Weight: 31 lbs. 6 oz. = 90-95th percentile

Height: 36 in = just shy of 97th percentile. 

She grew 3 inches since we visited the doctor in May - Dr. Goebel's jaw dropped.

"Wow. She's a big girl!" The doctor said it, friends say it (after they try to put her down for a nap in a Pack 'n' Play and she won't fit) and perfect strangers say it all. the. time. Our doctor told me to anticipate people thinking she's older than she is and ordered me to "set them straight" about her age and "keep them in line" in regards to their expectations of her. She told me to work her age into the conversation so people know she's younger than she looks. It reminded me of a story from Brandon's childhood - she doesn't get her height from me :) He was about 18 months old and had put on a cape and jumped off the top bunk, a la Superman. Except he did less flying and more spraining his neck.

When his Mom took him to the doctor, he asked him all sorts of questions like "How did this happen, Brandon? How high were you jumping from? Tell me exactly where it hurts and how much." When Brandon sat there with a blank stare the doctor thought he must be concussed. "No," said Brenda. "He's a year and a half. Mama is about the extent of his talking." The doctor thought he was 4 years old! Last week my eye doctor thought Teagan was 4. What's that saying about apples falling from the tree?

She's predicted to be at least 5'9" when she grows up. So regardless of how many vegetables I eat, the best-case scenario is that my daughter will be half a foot taller than me. At least she'll be able to commiserate with her aunts - I don't have much in the way of advice or general thoughts on being tall. I don't pretend to know how hard it is to be tall as a child (this hasn't hit Teagan yet, but based on the Richards' family history, she'll be in the back row of her class photos) but here's at least one good thing about being a tall toddler: you'll have a lot more fun at Disneyland. At 3 feet tall, she'll be tall enough to ride a good portion of the rides. Whether she's mature enough to ride the rides is another issue.

Lest you think she's a beanpole, I will testify that she's a solid little thing if ever I hefted one. (I'll stop making remarks like that when baby fat stops being adorable.) Even in spite of the fact that she's taken to claiming she's "all done" after two minutes at the table, she must be getting some nourishment, because she's growing like a weed. I can't resist squeezing her thunder thighs when she's sitting on my hip - they're just. so. deliciously. squishy. (Sidenote: thank heaven for my sister-in-laws who pass on clothes from their really tall girls. We're in 3T already!) It's getting harder and harder to wrangle her these days, what with her being more than half my height and freakishly strong. If she wants to get down? She gets down.

I hope that regardless of how tall or short, thin or not-so-thin she ends up that she always feels beautiful. What a different world we'd be living in if girls always felt beautiful and had confidence in themselves. Until she can internalize it, I'll just have to keep telling her how beautiful she is. And how much she's hurting my back.

"Oopsh...ees ok."

Three "words" I hear far too many times a day in a high, breathy little Munchkin voice. At first, the words made the hair on the back of my neck stand up because I knew that something had gone horribly wrong. After a few episodes, I came to realize that the disasters playing out in my imagination were always a hundred times worse than the crayon scribbles on the table, spilled cereal, torn book pages or broken toys.

While it was frustrating and annoying at first, after a while it made me stop and think. She's getting into repeating what we're saying. She must have heard me say "Oops! It's okay" enough times to know that the world won't come to an end if something gets spilled or broken. This may not sound like much to you, but it's a bit of a breakthrough for me.

You see, I don't like messes. I like things to stay looking new. I hate when things get broken and I loath having to spend money to replace them. Why did I have a baby, you ask? Crazy, I know. But the longer I have one, the more I come to realize that things are things. You probably already knew that, but it was a lesson I needed to learn. I'm devastated when my clothes shrink or get a hole in them, my world crumbled when our car got hit for the first time (within 3 months of us driving it off the lot, no less) and my heart stopped every time Teagan got within 10 feet of our new microfiber couches with her greasy, grubby little fingers.

Enter our "new" couches.

We scored a MAJOR deal on a couch, love seat, chair & ottoman and a recliner. All were used, but in good condition. The fact that they came with scratches and a few spots of nail polish (nothing a convenient pillow placement can't hide) makes anything Teagan does to them insignificant. (I hope I don't come to regret that statement.)
The timing of my post couldn't have been better, as I had my own "Oops...ees ok" moment last night. I was dancing around the kitchen to One Direction (wait, that isn't the most embarrassing part) and knocked our griddle off the counter, cracking the handle. Wait for it...
Then WHILE apologizing to Brandon for breaking it, I went to put it away and dropped it, smashing the handle and one of the legs completely. 

Brandon just laughed it off. His easygoing nature is one of the many things I love and admire about him. I told him if the tables had been turned and he'd broken the griddle, he never would have heard the end of it from me. He never overreacts about anything, so he balances me out well and I hope one day to be able to adopt his forgiving nature and perspective. He always tells me that things can be replaced, and I always ask him if he's come into some money I should know about. :)

It's a hard thing to fight - I think I've always been this way - that is, concerned about things and the state of those things. I distinctly remember an incident on my 17th birthday. I'd received a pot of shimmery Revlon eyeshadow from a friend and was sitting on my bed applying it and admiring it. My Mum came in for one of our heart-to-hearts and sat down next to me, spilling the container, dumping 1/2 of the contents on my bed. I snapped. At my Mum. I freaked out. On my Mum. I'll never forget the hurt look on her face as she got up and left the room. I'll always regret my reaction over something so insignificant (in fact, I still have the eyeshadow laying around, unused for the better part of a decade.) SO not worth it.

It seems like patience and remaining calm in the face of messes come naturally to everyone but me, but I'm working on taking things in stride. I've taken to buying/using previously owned things, especially when Teagan is involved. While it doesn't fix my attitude or way of thinking, it helps me avoid situations where I might place things about people on my list of priorities. I think it's made me a nicer Mum and I hope to become increasingly nicer. When Teagan tells me "ees ok" it makes me feel like I'm doing a better job of teaching her that things are things and I'm doing my best to make sure she understands that as long as she's safe and happy, "ees ok." And that's what matters.

Code Brown.

WARNING. You're about to read a post about P-O-O. Avert your eyes if your constitution is weak.

You know the saying, "_ _it happens"? Well, it happened. The term "Crappy Karma" comes to mind as I remember laughing at the plight of my friends as they posted about their children smearing feces all over themselves. I'm not laughing now. Is it one of those things that all kids do? Is it just a rite of passage for children and parents alike? Well whatever it is, it stinks. Allow me to set the stage...

I was nagging my husband (as I am wont to do) to get out and run his Saturday errands (that is, early voting and a bank trip, neither of which I could do for him) before Teagan woke up so it wouldn't be just another day when the two of us are home alone together. There was a little dillying, a lot of dallying and even more research on political candidates, so sure enough I heard her yelp from her crib before he'd left the house. And boy was I glad. Merely opening the door to her room burned my nostrils. 'Oh, she has a poopy diaper' thought I. But where is it? Answer: the floor. Which was a blessing in disguise, because she apparently hadn't left herself much to work with when it came to smearing. But with what little she had, she managed to hit all four sides of the crib, the sheet and saved some for her feet, legs, hands, arms and <shudder>  face.

"BRANDON!" He knew something was wrong because a) I never call him Brandon and b) I was shrieking. He came running and upon seeing/smelling our predicament said the following: "I have to get to the bank before it closes." Needless to say, the joke was NOT well received. He hobbled to the bank after wiping down the crib.

Never again will she nap in only a diaper. (What? It's still hot here!) And never again will Buddy crack a joke (pun intended) when there's a poo-covered toddler involved. Hoping that's the end of it. That was one nasty milestone!

Booday partay

I am painfully aware that birthday parties have to stay the same or get bigger every year, and so we opted for another small gathering of friends this year, and specifically no no-ed presents. Apparently people love Teagan, because she still got some really sweet gifts. We have good friends. 

They even came in spite of me warning them that Teagan had a nasty cold the day before and was laid out on the couch for most of the day. Everyone braved it, and I'm glad they did, because she was well rested for the party. Only a runny nose remained, which completely negated the adorableness of her dress.

Like a good neighbour, Statens are there. That's our jingle for the Statens down the street, who we couldn't survive without. Whether it's borrowing a van or power washer or scavenging ingredients for things, Katie and Ryan ALWAYS come through for us. Today was no exception. Katie came early to see if there was anything I needed help with, and of course there was. She made the icing from scratch, with her own ingredients. Then, when I burst my icing bag (ahem, Ziploc) creating The Blob that threatened to take over the entire cake, she stepped in, scraped it off and finished writing Happy Birthday Teagan for me. Unfortunately I didn't get a photo of the finished product, but it was a sight to behold. I'm going to skip the middleman next year and just call her to begin with.

Teagan's little friend McKenna came, and Teagan cannot keep away from her. Poor Kenna puts up with her, and Teagan will not tolerate indifference.

Her little friends seemed to have fun with all of Teagan's toys, while Teagan contentedly played with an infant carseat in the corner. A gracious hostess indeed. Brandon had friends to talk sports with and I had some of my dearest friends in the ward to commiserate with and wonder where the years have gone. She opened a colouring book and fancy crayons from the Headlees and practically fell out of her chair with excitement. Amy said she'd never seen such a reaction to a dollar store colouring book :) It was awesome. She loves her Rapunzel tea set from the Statens, and I'm sure Olivia can give her some proper tips on hosting a princess tea party. So sweet of them.

Cake and candles went over much better than they did with Grandma & Grandpa Richards - still befuddles me that she got so scared the second time. It was wonderful to have our house filled with friends, food and fun. Her best birthday this year!

My Baby Can Read!

Teagan read a book today. We're very proud.
In the interest of full disclosure, it was one of those books with a mirror on each page. So it went like this:

"Teagan...Teagan...Teagan...Teagan...The End."

We still think she's pretty awesome.

Tea for Two and Two for Teagan!

I know it sounds terribly cliche, but I'll say it anyway. I can't believe it's been two years! I blinked and missed the last 24 months. What did I do before I had a sassy little Mini-Me running around after me? Hard to say. But here's some of what we've been up to lately...

Pretending we're asleep. If you blink too long, Teagan thinks you're asleep and will put her chubby little finger to her lips and say "Shh. Deepin'." Then out of nowhere, "Cockadoodledoo! Wake up! Wake up!" Whether you're a page in her colouring book that features someone yelling with their eyes closed, a doll that opens and shuts her eyes, or you're praying, Teagan will find you and call you out on your "sleeping". Just a few days ago when we were Skyping with my sister, she told us which one of us was to fall asleep next, the first time she's directed traffic and told us to take turns. 

Dancing. More than frequently, we can be found having dance parties in our living room. Before you wonder whether your invite was lost in the mail, the playlist featured One Direction, Hanson, Nirvana, ABBA AND The Wiggles. Yikes, I know. But it's something for everyone and the three of us have a lot of fun parading around the living room. 

Lip Syncing. Ever wanted to feel like a rockstar? Mouth the words along with the Dora soundtrack, The Wiggles, or anything on the radio. I've never seen Teagan's eyes get quite as wide as when she's watching me lip sync to her favourite songs. She's absolutely riveted and it's so much fun.

Reading. The girl loves books and I LOVE that! It's been refreshing to come downstairs after starting a load of laundry to find her in a pile of books and not fishing in the toilet. (knock on wood)

Watching Bubble Guppies, Dora and Sesame Street. In that order. She's a bit obsessed with Bubble Guppies at the moment, and unfortunately we don't get the channel and there's only one DVD on the market. I have it memorized and Teagan's getting there. She has a few favourite songs that she dances along with, mimicking the Guppies exactly.

Practicing animal sounds. Some kids embrace colours, others take to letters and numbers, but Teagan loves animals and the noises they make. She's got elephant, lion, horse, cow, sheep, pig, frog, cat, mouse, duck, chicken, rooster, seal and a few others down and they're pretty hilarious. Click HERE to see a sample.

Walking around with our eyes closed. For months now, Teagan has been into sensory deprivation, closing her eyes and seeing where she ends up after a few steps. From time to time, she'll eat with her eyes close as well. She always manages to find her mouth - shocker. It's a little bit hilarious.

Sleeping. Teagan is the best darn sleeper there is. May lightning strike me if I ever find myself complaining about her sleeping habits. More often than not she sleeps 12 hours a night and takes a good 2 hour nap in the afternoon. That's right. She loves me. And I love her and owe her my sanity for allowing me to get rest of my own. We start every morning with "Good Morning" from Singing in the Rain. I sing it (with a few lyrics changed) as I switch off her nightlight and noise machine and pull back her curtains. She jumps up and down in her crib, all the while smiling and laughing...or pointing out where she threw her binkies for me to retrieve them. (She insists on sleeping with one in her mouth and at least one in her hand, sometimes two. On a related note, she's finally saying "binky" and not "dinky". What a relief.)

Being tall. Everywhere we go, people can't believe that she isn't two yet. I think that's mostly because she's usually with me, and heaven knows I'm not renowned for my stature. When they see her with Brandon, it makes sense. People constantly think she's older than she is, so I'm constantly defending her honour and letting them know that she probably won't answer their in depth questions. Based on her 15 month check up, the doctor predicts she'll be around 5'9". Must be nice!

Playing with friends at the park. She's a big fan of splash pads, as long as she's wearing her clothes and not a bathing suit, which keeps things interesting. The first time we went to a splash pad was in April and it wasn't quite warm enough to be enjoyed. I put her in a little raincoat and she had a blast. She looked more than a little goofy, but she enjoyed herself. She loves to slide, but her favourite thing to do is sit and eat snacks while watching her friends play. A regular social butterfly.

Loving each other. Nothing feels quite as wonderful as a random hug and kiss from my Teagan. I love feeling her chubby little arms wrapped around my neck. She's taken to saddling up alongside me and putting one arm around me in a little side hug. Love her.

Can't believe I have a two year old. Can't fathom how much I love her. Can't get over how much she amazes me every day with how much she learns. Can't be more grateful for her unconditional love and sweet, sassy spirit. Can't wait for tomorrow with her.

Teagan's Booday.

We weren't two hours into the day and I found myself misty-eyed. She's TWO! Two and, to this point, not incredibly aware of her surroundings. We've told her that her birthday's coming up soon and that didn't mean much, and we've tried teaching her that she'll be two years old, but she doesn't seem to take any notice. So while I was excited to celebrate her birthday, I didn't want to break my neck trying to make it memorable. We started off the day singing "Happy Birthday" instead of the usual "Good Morning" from Singing in the Rain. She surprised me by chanting "BOODAY! BOODAY!" over and over while I was singing. Then throughout the day she would sing "Happy Birthday" to herself at random. It seems she woke up today a big kid!

I had balloons waiting for her on the stairs and surrounded her with them while she watched one of her favourite Dora episodes so I could make chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. We She inhaled them. I busted out a party hat and party horn for a wee photo shoot of my two year old. Once she figured out which end of the horn to blow in, she was having the time of her life. She wore the hat for a long time, pointing at it and saying "booday" every time, and sometimes shared it with me - "Mummy booday." We had a tickle fight with the party horn that reduced me to a sniveling mess of emotion. Then it was off to the park with her best buddy and lunch on the run.

 

I spent the bulk of her naptime making cupcakes and putting the finishing touches on her birthday video...all while watching Downton Abbey. 

We arranged to Skype with my parents and sister in the evening so they could sing "Happy Birthday" and watch her blow out her candles. It was really sweet. I love seeing how much Teagan is loved by her grandparents, aunts and uncles. All went smoothly, and she enjoyed the singing and managed to blow out her candles after the third try. She didn't dig in like we thought she would, but once she got a taste of the icing, she sucked it all off. I convinced her to give me a kiss, which transferred a glob of frosting onto my nose. So naturally Teagan ate it right off my nose. Waste not, want not, my Dad said. We chatted with them for a while and showed off her new tricks - animal noises, "awesome" and the like.

Seeing as it went so well the first time, we thought we'd bring Brandon's parents in on the action as well and Skyped with them later on. To say things went less smoothly would be the understatement of the century. The candles frightened her half to death and she cried for the entirety of "Happy Birthday" and refused to blow them out herself. Even after her dad blew them out for her, she remained upset and clung to him, crying "Mummy, Mummy!" Poor little mess. Though, the presents seemed to ease whatever pain was caused by the second birthday cupcake.

Don't tell her we're having friends over for cake and ice cream on Saturday - she'll never get over it! Happy Birthday to Cap'n Teague. Love this little girl.

Teagan's "Birth Minute" Timeline

4:42 - tell Teagan to stop eating crayons
4:43 - remember what it was like to hear her cry and see her squishy little alien face for the first time at this moment two years ago
4:44 - start to cry and have my two year old wrap her arms around my neck and squeeze
4:45 - tell her to get her finger out of her nose. Aaand we're back.

Question: What do you do to keep a toddler entertained on a plane?

ANSWER: Whatever it takes. 

EXHIBIT A: Mum's face covered in stickers, complete with glow stick mustache.

Sixteen people on Teagan's last lap child flight on September 30th. Sixteen people. What a way to end our two year run of free flights. And a good run it's been. We've flown to and from Canada three times, Idaho twice, Seattle and San Francisco once. And out of those 20 or so flights (we had layovers on some flights and I'm too proud not to count them individually) Teagan cried for 20 minutes on one - waking up completely disoriented after sleeping for 3 hours. That didn't stop me from panicking for weeks before every. single. flight. Because weeks and months went by between them, she seemed a different child every time which sent me into a tizzy, printing colouring pages of whatever she was into at that particular time, hoarding stickers and glowsticks and packing her body weight in Goldfish, veggie straws and fruit snacks.
My in-laws were kind enough to lend us a portable DVD player and essentially save my life. Once we were able to use electronics, she was good as gold and just got better when the flights attendants came around with drinks and snacks.

It was the 15 minutes on either end of the flights when electronics have to be shut off that nearly gave me a heart attack every time. The take off and landing never seemed to bother her - when she was a baby it lulled her to sleep. The only problems we had were other babies around us - she's an empathetic crier. If someone's upset, she's upset for them. Sometimes there's nothing you can do, but when we could, we sat by ourselves so her heart didn't break for her peers. That and when she woke up from a deep sleep, she seemed to be in no man's land - not quite asleep, but not quite awake. This was on our way home from Toronto, in the wee hours of the morning and the people around us were surprisingly kind. I apologized profusely, but they all said that she was so well-behaved for the rest and that babies cry. The flight attendants actually asked a kindly lady sitting in the window seat if she wouldn't mind sitting in an aisle seat across the way so we could have a row to ourselves - seriously awesome. I've heard horror stories from friends dealing with less-than-friendly flight attendants and sitting next to cranky curmudgeons and thank goodness we haven't been seated next to many of those. One gentleman sat next to us on a Southwest flight when she was about 9 months old. We boarded with Family Boarding and he boarded in the first wave of the B group - this detail is important, because Southwest allows you to choose your own seat and he happened to choose the seat next to us despite the fact that the plane was essentially empty when he boarded. He had the nerve to ask me if she'd flown before and whether she was going to cry. She had and she didn't. I was happy to make him eat his words.
On several of the last few flights we've taken, we've been fortunate enough to have an extra seat for Teagan. Funnily enough, it hasn't been when I've flown alone with her. <sigh> She's not a small thing, and trying to keep her contained on my lap without encroaching on our neighbour's space was nigh impossible. On the way to Toronto (apparently this particular trip was fraught with difficulty) I was still wrestling Teagan at 1:00 in the morning, trying to find a comfortable position for her to sleep and glanced over at an Australian couple on the other side of the aisle with their toddler laid out across both of their laps, absolutely zonked. I confess, I was envious. She fell asleep eventually...and so did my arms.
While I'm not looking forward to shelling out the money for Teagan to have her own seat, but the personal space will be nice. The parental version of personal space, anyway. The parameters are a little different.

October 23rd - my due date, two years ago.

 Can't believe my "baby" will be two on Thursday! We've both changed a little in two years...

Teagan's Besties

We've raised a bit of a social butterfly. She loves her friends! She's generally friendly to everyone, but a girl has to have some besties, right?

We've made great friends with Natalie, Jason and their kids who live a hop, skip and jump away so we go over there A LOT. Teagan knows when we're getting close and starts yelling "SHASHEE!" (Sydney) "SHASHON!"(Carson) It's kind of hilarious. And the dramatic gasp I mentioned earlier? That started at the Giffords. We knocked on their door and when she hear footsteps, she gasped. When she heard the lock clicking, she hyperventilated. When Natalie and her kids opened the door, her excitement couldn't be contained. This was months ago, and she does it every time. A little ego boost for them every time we visit. While they're older than Teagan they always play very sweetly with her. She talks about them constantly and wanders the house saying "Shashee, where are you?" When we visited Canada, she popped up in the middle of the night and yelled "Shason, I love you!" Not soon after, Natalie told me something Carson said just before his nap: "I will grow bigger all by myself and I will marry Teagan." It's meant to be!

 

We have a beautiful back-and-forth babysitting relationship with our friends down the street, the Statens. Well, it's beautiful for us at least. They're our go-to people for last minute errands and quick trips that you'd rather not lug a toddler. on. We watch their cute kids from time to time, but if anything, it makes our lives easier. Exhibit A: How much Teagan and Livvy love eachother. (I know Teagan's "fair" but next to Livvy she's translucent!)

"OOK", a.k.a Luke is so sweet to her as well. He will drop everything and play with her and it's adorable to watch. He was kind enough to let her assist in choosing that evening's episode of Psych.

And last, but certainly not least, her good buddy Keaton. "Keat" is the magic word to get her out of bed in a good mood. The promise of seeing "Deat" as she calls him makes her pop up with a smile on her face. He is less than a month older than her, so they're adorable together. He's the smartest just-turned-two year old I know. He's really aware of his surroundings and the way he strings words together always surprises me. Hillary is so sweet to pile three car seats in her backseat and drive us to different activities and even take us to the gym as her guest. They live down the street, so we hang out a lot. It's so nice to watch Keat & T play with eachother and chat with Hillary about parenting triumphs and challenges, with them being at the same stage - of course she has more to worry about bless her heart, she has an 8 month old too!) We went to Chuck E. Cheese with them back in July and Keat was supposed to be in the photos, but jumped out of the booth at just the wrong time...twice! He's so funny - no wonder Teagan likes to hang out with him!

We are absolutely loving where we live. We'd love to have family close by, but the amazing friends we've made are the next best thing. Most of us don't have family near, so we all rely on eachother. So glad that my friends' babies get along with my baby and she gets to see so much of her besties.