Lila News: 21 Months

Dear Lila,

I started writing this post in March, and - can you believe it? - I got sidetracked and put it aside.  This is what I wrote:

You gave me a kiss for the first time last week (you had already smooched daddy and River a few days before and I was waiting anxiously for my turn).  It was a slobbery open-mouthed face mash and just about the sweetest thing ever.  It was evening, you were warm and cozy in your pajamas after bath time and your dad said, "Okay, Lila, it's time for bed.  Give mommy and River a kiss."  You hit us with your mushy love, waved and said "bye bye,"  and then led the way to your bedroom.  Amazing.  I think about the fact that you only just learned to walk a few short months ago, that it's even less time since you stopped putting EVERYTHING into your mouth, and I realize how quickly you've gone from baby to toddler.

My heart breaks a little bit to think of those baby days as "past."  To know that you won't ever again be a little 8 lb beauty practically floating in my arms; that I can't repeat those precious moments watching you discover your own hands; that I'll never again kiss those impossibly tiny toes.  Of course it's not a tragedy because I get to hold my 20 lb big girl as you chatter at me, and I can watch you discover how to hold a spoon or fork, and I can kiss those impossibly cute cheeks (and toes) anytime I want.

 

I wanted to share this with you because it's such a sweet little kernel of "Lila-life" and I don't want to forget it.  You have become quite an adept - and frequent - kisser, and every exit and goodbye is accompanied by a sweet smooch from you.  But should I try to request a kiss outside those parameters? Don't even think of it, buddy.  I used to worry that you would never be a cuddly kid.  You're so independent; you have never needed rocking and holding the way River did.  You have always pushed away too much affection and demanded your personal space.  But slowly, right about the time you finally deigned to let us have your sweet kisses, you started to allow a snuggle here, a hug there, until now, you will frequently occupy my lap for a long cuddle.  The key is that YOU must initiate.  If River or I go in for a hug (as we so often want to do), you will resolutely reject all advances.  This affection thing will occur on your terms or not at all.  It's something I love about you.

Your ability to fend off unwanted advances extends beyond people.  I remember a moment from last spring when we were at River's school to pick him up and one of the other parents had brought along their hyper, jumpy little puppy.  She was bouncing around from kid to kid and when she approached you for a quick nuzzle, you looked sternly at her and gave her a little "no, no, no" wag of your finger.  Every adult around dropped their jaw, then burst out laughing.  "Oh my," said one of them, "you don't have to worry about her at all."  We'll see.

While you don't want affection thrust upon you, you don't have the slightest compunction about thrusting your affection on animals.  Our long-suffering kitties have born the brunt of your rough love, enduring full-body tackles, sticky finger petting, and the occasional fur-pull.  Poe is smart enough to move away when she's had enough of your "love," but Edgar is too lazy to move; or perhaps so needy for affection that he is willing to put up with all sorts of indignities to get it.

You love all kinds of animals!  You gravitate toward animal picture books and whenever we're outside you're sure to point out the birds and squirrels and bugs that you see.  For a while you used the "bird" sign to point out small creatures, making a little "cheep cheep" sound as you pressed your thumb and index finger together.  Ducks made the "quack quack" sound, which you imitated quite well, but all other animals were ferocious beasts who made a deep-throated growl.  Elephant?  Growl.  Tiger? Growl.  Alpaca?  Growl.  After learning a series of real and made-up signs, you now know how to distinguish a monkey from a fish from a dinosaur.  For all the other myriad creatures you don't know the name for, we now sign "animal."  I miss the growl a little bit.

You are a little expert at sign language.  I know we could be having full conversations in sign by now if I could learn it more quickly, because you pick up a sign within the first few uses.  It's helped us tremendously in communicating with you.  You let us know when you're hungry or thirsty, when you need to potty or sleep; you point out things you see like flowers and helicopters (for which you've created your own sign of "air train"!).  And while you're moving at your own pace in speaking, you are definitely not missing out on sharing your ideas with us.  Sign came in handy a few months ago when you insisted on calling any grown-up mommy, even your father.  I taught you the sign for daddy and instantly you were able to say the word.  Now grown-ups are divided by gender into "mommy" and "daddy" - which is pretty amusing when you attack a stranger with a hug and an exuberant "Daddy!"

I mentioned your use of the sign for "potty" above and I don't want to skip over the fact that at 21 months you have effectively potty trained yourself.  River loves to hear the story I tell about how this came about, so here it is: You followed me into the bathroom one afternoon having nothing on but a diaper.  We had taught you the "potty" sign in anticipation of using it down the road, and you signed it to me then.  I said, "Yes, mommy is going to go potty."  You kept signing and started pulling your diaper off.  Finally it clicked and I asked if you wanted to try to go potty.  You gave a resounding head nod, so I pulled out River's old training seat and set you up.  I figured you'd be there for a few minutes and get off.  When I asked if you were done you shook your head no, so we waited a bit more.  Finally, I heard a little tinkle tinkle in the pot and I couldn't believe my ears.  We decided to seize the opportunity and get you into panties for a training weekend.  It went so well that you're now in them all the time (except sleeping), and we have lots of days with no accidents at all.  I'm so proud of you.

There is still one area where your independence waivers a bit, and that is blankie.  River has his stuffed bear as a sleeping companion but for you, it's always been the little punk rock quilt I made for you.  You've never taken a pacifier to sleep, and as I mentioned above, you're not really a cuddler, so most nights your bedtime routine is a few books and songs in a chair, then we lay you down with blankie, you pop your thumb in your mouth and fall asleep.  But blankie is such a comfort item for you, you've started carrying it around whenever we let you.  And when you have it in your hand, you almost always want to lay down on it with your thumb in your mouth. It's the cutest Pavlovian response I've ever seen.  It's really the only time you suck your thumb - but you simply can't resist when you have the pink and black blankie in your arms.

Lila, you are growing into such a fun and amazing person.  I've loved watching you transition from teeny baby to independent toddler.  You love to follow River around and try to do everything he does.  As a result you're quite a good climber and have surprising dexterity.  You love music and will dance to the beat anytime you hear it.  You are funny and happy and so easy-going.  And while the two's are on the horizon, and I know they won't pass us by unscathed, you have already shown us your basic approach to the world: enjoy life, laugh a lot, and don't let the little things stress you out.

I love you my baby girl.  To the moon and back.


xoxo,
Mommy

Lila News: Nine Months

Dear Lila Jae (and, yes, you should get used to hearing both names - it's a verbal tick none of us can help),


I need at least three more of these updates to fully describe all that has happened in the past four months, but we'll just have to manage with this.  METAMORPHOSIS!  You are a little butterfly, my beautiful girl, compared with the cute little caterpillar you were just back in May.  Then you were just learning to roll over.  Now?  You roll anywhichway, sit up, crawl, pull up, feed yourself, and run a little sports-book in the back of the house. 



You're still an epically good sleeper, but you don't do it nearly as often.  For the first six months you pretty much slept all the time with very short breaks to wake up, look around, be cute, and fall back into your natural state of slumber.  Then all of a sudden you WOKE UP.  You still manage to sleep through the night, and given the right conditions you still nap easily, but you decided that 10 naps a day was for wussies, you only needed 2 or 3.  At first we were so confused that our little angel baby was turning into such a fuss bucket - and then we just stopped forcing you into your crib and you stopped screaming at us.  Funny that.



It wasn't just that you stopped needing sleep, you really started engaging in the world.  You wanted to be in it - play with your brother, tackle the cats, show mama how clever you are.  You decided about 2 months ago that you wanted to crawl, and you just worked and worked and worked until you could do it.  You still entertain yourself most of the time (you go from toy to toy, investigate the kitchen or under the dining table - perfectly content), but you have to be moving.  In fact, your need to move is so strong that anything that slows you down gets the Lila Scream Treatment.  Diaper changes, dressing after bath, trimming your nails - all ridiculous tasks you want nothing to do with. And when I carry you, you are all business: what can I see? what can I reach?  where are we going?  There are no sweet snuggles into mommy's shoulder; I have to carry you face forward - arm across your chest and hand between your legs - so you have the view you want.



In fact, you have such a minimal need for affection that you weened yourself at 8 months.  By that point we were really only nursing a few times a day and you were so disinterested in the task, I stopped forcing it on you.  It definitely hurt my heart to think you weren't devastated by the loss of connection, but as Nanu recently pointed out, River probably nursed enough for both of you.  So, my body is my own again (for the first time in 4 years!) and you are thrilled to hold your own bottles.



I never imagined you would be so fiercely independent.  You are so easy going in so many ways, but when you set your sights on a goal you are relentless.  We struggled for months trying to feed you that icky glop of first foods (oatmeal and jarred fruit).  You wouldn't touch it.  You were obviously hungry, but you pushed the spoon away like a little rage-filled gremlim.  Finally out of desperation - even though I didn't think you were ready - I started trying more solid foods: chopped bananas, avocados, cooked carrots.  You LOVED them.  But you had to feed yourself.  You would reject any offer of help, and even if it took 12 pieces of cheerio falling into the cracks of your seat before one piece hit your mouth, you were determined to do it yourself.  We've since managed a kind of compromise; you get plenty of Lila-friendly bites and in return you grudgingly let me slip a spoonful or two of yogurt or pears in your mouth before you take the spoon and fling the contents around the room.  It works.




You have the sweetest krinkle-nose smile - made even cuter by the six teeth occupying your mouth.  You love to make people laugh and will do silly tricks or little pop-pops with your mouth to elicit a smile.  You love to blow raspberries and you say mum-mum-mum and dah-dah-dah. 

As for your brother, River is still the center of your world and when he's gone (as he will be much more often now that he's starting preschool), you get bored and fussy.  Where's my brother?  Where's the fun guy?  Thankfully he's dealing with your mobility well.  We try to distract you enough for him to finish any building projects (which he's usually making for you - his demolition crew), and he is great about finding things for you to play with or trading toys when you've got something he wants.  I love seeing you together. I love knowing you will have a relationship that no one can touch.  I love that he protects you and I love that you look up to him so much. 



It's been a busy summer full of travel and lots of firsts (ice cream! eating sand!), and through it all you just keep growing and asserting that amazing personality of yours.  You are still the zen master of the house, but under that calm exterior is a fierce little fireball lying in wait.



I love you my perfect little girl,
Mama

Lila News: Five Months

Dear Lila,

Last week your Auntie Jenn visited us here in Cambridge and got to spend some quality snuggle time with you and your cheeks. She's simply in love with you and has vowed to only buy you pink frilly things. I'm happy to indulge her since, quite frankly, I love having a little girl to dress up. I mention your aunt because not only was she here when you turned five months old (AAAAAAHHHHH!!!! FIVE MONTHS!!!), but because she can attest to how different my experience of motherhood has been between you and your brother.


She saw me in my insane new-parent state when River was just a little older than you are now; she saw the hours and hours I spent sequestered in his room, singing and rocking and pleading with him to sleep. She saw me tip-toe out of his room, afraid to squeak the floorboards for fear he would wake; she saw me shush everyone near his room and watch his monitor with eagle eyes - dread on my face when that tale-tell squall eventually came letting us know we were doomed to spend ANOTHER half an hour locked behind closed doors trying to lull him to sleep.


And she has seen you. The first night she was in town we had just sat down to dinner and you gave a little whimper letting us know it was time for your nap. I went into your bedroom, laying you down and giving you a pacifier, and when I returned a minute or two later your Autie Jenn was wide-eyed with wonder. "That's it?" she said. "She's asleep?" And with more pride and gratefulness than I can possibly convey I said, "Yes. That's how Lila rolls."



In this past month you've started sleeping through the night, really sleeping through - from 9pm to 6 or 7am. In fact, at 3 years old your brother is now waking earlier and more often than you. You haven't taken any steps, you can't sit up on your own, and you're still working on rolling over, but when it comes to sleeping you've totally out-paced your brother.


As for River, you are totally in love. I've had to start nursing you in different rooms than him because if he's there you're too busy watching him to focus on eating. The love is mutual and he attacks you with hugs and kisses whenever you enter the room. When you're sad he strokes your head and says, "It's okay, Lila. It's okay." It's rare but there are moments of jealously, times when he wants us to leave you alone so I can keep playing with him. But as soon as you enter the room all is forgotten and you're back to basking in the light of his attention.


You are a little observer, watching the people around you so closely. Sometimes I feel guilty about how much you entertain yourself, chewing on a toy or keeping tabs on me or your dad, but I also feel good that I'm not constantly swinging a toy in your face or teaching you baby signs. In some ways River did (and still does) demand that kind of attention, but you seem perfectly content to watch the world most of the time. Your independence has allowed me to pick up sewing again much sooner than I imagined would be possible, and I spend lots of time working on new projects. You hang out on the playmate or bouncy seat while I make bibs or little shirts. It's an incredible gift to me - to feel like I have more to contribute than just motherhood, to allow me space to create and express myself. I can't thank you enough for that my little Lila Love.


As for milestones you are certainly hitting them. You're very sturdy - able to sit in the bumbo or carrier with nary a head wobble. I think you'll be sitting on your own soon, which will be very exciting for all of us. You grab at anything in front of you and we've had to instill a practice of keeping our drinks and plates out of your reach. You're rolling from back to side really well and a few times you've gotten from your belly to your back (an inelegant little flip flop was involved, but you did it!). You recognize your name and light up whenever I say it, and you've definitely started showing a preference for me over other caretakers. We just started you on solid food and while you seem happy to experiment with it, you are not yet a voracious eater.


Lila Jae, you are my little bumble-butt. You have made our home brighter and happier and you have made me a more mellow mom. There's a lovely balance between the extreme boy energy River brings and the sweet girl energy you have. You give us all the chance for cuddles, quiet reading, and silly-sweet bouncing games. I love you so much.


xoxo,
Mommy

River and Lila News: 35 months/12 weeks

Dear River and Lila,

Is it wrong of me to measure the success of my parenting by how much I get out of the house? By how much you sleep? It feels like my absences from you signify balance in my life, faith that you will be happy without me. Or maybe I'm just neglecting the heck out of you. Either way, I do feel happy. I have been getting out, seeing friends, experiencing the world (more or less), and I don't feel one ounce of guilt for it. Perhaps that's the difference between a first and second-time parent; I can leave you without feeling excruciating pain.


This has come in handy of late since you, River, have started giving up your naps. You fall asleep about every other day, and while you may not need the extra sleep, I'm still waking up at least a couple times before morning to feed your sister and I depend on those moments of peace to function. Without a little down time in the afternoon I turn into a grunting, thrashing Frankenstein. So we've worked out a little compromise: you leave me alone for an hour (if you can't sleep, you read or play by yourself) and I try not to be a gigantic beastie in the afternoon. You're nearly three years old, so while it still tugs at me that you might cause yourself harm or tear down the house, that guilt and worry is not great enough to make me skip my nap.


I suppose there's evidence that you could cause some damage while I sleep. Take an incident from a few weeks ago. You were on a real Tic Tac bend (please don't get me started on how you were even exposed to Tic Tacs), and since they were within your reach on the dining table you were popping them like, well, candy. Before your nap, I put them on top of a 7 ft armoire in the dining room so you couldn't reach them. Silly me to let you see where they were. While I was in my bedroom trying to nap, you started a little project to liberate the Tic Tacs. I could hear a thump, then a few seconds later another one, then another. After about three minutes of listening to you work on something in the dining room I walked out to see you stacking your picture books next to the armoire. I'll admit, I should have worked it out a bit quicker (see above re: sleep deprivation) but it took some probing for me to get it out that you were building yourself a stairway to the Tic Tacs. And you know what I did? Rewarded your cleverness and gave you one. Seriously, if you can engineer your way to something you want, I think that deserves some kind of positive reinforcement. (I may regret that when you've built a time machine in the basement.)


Your ingenuity and cleverness shine through more every day. You are becoming an amazing story teller and have really worked on creating fun scenarios for us to act out. Lots of your story-lines are derived from Richard Scarry books (whose work sometimes make me want to gouge my eyes out, but hey, you love him), and you want us to be firemen or bakers or underwater robots (a River original plotline). You pretty much always have a plan for what games we could play, what activities to do. A few years from now you're going to have a little playground entourage of kids who follow you around and do your bidding. All the other kids will probably find you incredibly bossy and annoying. But that's the price of leadership, I suppose.


As for your language, I can't even say it's "developing" anymore. It's pretty well developed. You grasp so much and your father and I have no need to talk down to you or use small words. If you don't understand a word, you ask what it means. Most of the time you can then use it yourself. Aside from your vocabulary, your syntax is so adult. It's clear that you mimic the way dad and I talk and it makes me crack up when you bust out with, "I sure do like these grapes," or, "So how's it going, uncle Kevin?" You still have a few quirks, but they're fading. I'll be so sad when you no longer say "got-for" instead of "forgot" and "rec-T" instead of "T-Rex." Please stay my little boy a little longer, okay?


And Lila. You are amazing. I couldn't imagine an easier, happier baby. River and I drag you around to playdates, museums, yoga and art classes, and you just take it all in stride. You nap, eat, and play on the road and it doesn't - yet - seem to be a problem.

You like to watch what's going on, and increasingly you like to be held in an upright position. Your neck muscles are getting really strong and soon we'll be able to put you in the bumbo chair where you'll be able to sit up on your own and see the whole room. You still love to watch your brother and, other than a strange fascination with licking your face, he treats you like a princess.


You've started grabbing for toys and you love a good crinkle or bell. You can get objects to your mouth - a washcloth, octopus toy, or your fingers - and you suck away happily. You already have a favorite stuffed animal - a little bear blankie that you smile at and hug close. It pretty much kills me with cuteness. Your eye contact is great, and you give me the most amazing smiles when you first wake up. You love it when I get real close and make google eyes at you and talk silly nonsense. But you don't need constant stimulation. You're great about entertaining yourself, and you've given me ample time to sew and work on craft projects.


We've worked out your evening feeding schedule - it involves a bottle, an early bedtime, and me pumping some - and it seems to be making everyone happy right now. You still sleep incredibly well, and if I nurse you just before I go to sleep you'll sometimes stay down until 5am. To friends without parents that doesn't sound so great, but let me tell you, you would win the gold medal for baby sleep.


You guys are rocking my world right now. I love you both so much and I feel so lucky to be your mom.

xoxoxoxo,
Mommy

River and Lila News: 34 months/7 weeks

Dear River and Lila,

I can't believe how lucky I am. All the fears I had about how difficult it would be to have two kids have dissipated. I feel happy. And complete. That's not to say this parenting thing is easy. Lila you are still an infant, and River, you are most definitely a toddler. I juggle a lot and feel pulled in about 50 different directions all day, but I am not frantic. I'm not sad or overwhelmed. I feel like a mom who has her stuff reasonably well together.


Lila, you are a wonder. Where River can be prickly, hard-edged, and so intense, you are soft and yielding and quiet. You are a deep, slow breath. Where River has a ferocious desired to know, to do, to be, you are content to sit back and observe. You take the world in at your own steady pace.


I know we - your mom and dad - can take a small amount of credit for your contentment, but I think we will see in years to come that it is simply your nature to be easy-going, that you have taken on the role of zen master in this house of high-strung neurotics.


In general you are incredibly easy to make happy. If you are fed, dry, and well-rested the world is grand. You will sit contentedly on your playmat or in your bouncy chair watching the action or flirting with your brother. You have smiles for River like no other and you watch him as he moves around the room.


In the first few weeks of your life, the most difficult part of my day was the evening when you would be desperate to nurse for hours and hours. But even that wasn't so hard - I'd sit reading a book, watching TV, or just staring into your beautiful face while you comforted yourself. Slowly you eased off the boob and now you sleep a bit between nursing sessions in the evening and don't exhibit that frantic need anymore.


You still sleep A LOT. You take a long morning nap, play a little at lunch, and nap again all afternoon. I forgot how much infants sleep - I mean aren't you missing out on valuable crying time? Your dad and I have talked about how maybe you aren't as alert and engaged in the world as your brother was, and maybe you don't have the strength he did at your age, but you have the best thing we could have asked for: YOU SLEEP. You sleep for a 4 or 6 hour chunk before your first nighttime feeding, then you go right back down. I don't have to fight you, I don't have to think of 50 ways to calm you. You nurse, get comfy in your swaddle, get a pacifier and the noise machine, and you are out. It is the best present any parent could get.


You are a voracious eater and have gained nearly three pounds and 2 inches since you were born. Like your brother, you have a massive capacity for spit up, and I can count on you drenching me at least once every other day. You have gorgeous red hair and beautiful blue eyes, and you're building pudge like a walrus. I love that you're spending more time alert these days - the eye contact you make, the smiles you give me melt my heart. You're starting to coo just a little bit and I think soon you'll recognize that you have hands. You are everything I could ask for in a little girl. Just perfect.


As for you, River, you are an amazing big brother. You are so gentle with Lila, so patient when we need to give her attention, and so proud to show her off to your friends. I was afraid you would be too rough with her or resent all the time she gets with mom and dad, but you have been such an absolute champ.


I try not to make comparisons between you and your sister, but it's impossible not to - you are simply such different creatures. When we named you, your dad and I imagined a peaceful brook, a winding stream where one might go to philosophize or toss stones. You, River, are not a quiet creek. You are raging rapids, tumultuous white waters broken by cracked and spiky boulders. You are fun and spontaneous, smart and inventive, but you are not easy to navigate. Your toddler days are like the waterfall at the end of that wild river, and your dad and I are paddling as hard as we can to keep from being pulled down into the deep.


Let me give you a picture from a typical day: one afternoon you woke from your nap in a particularly nasty mood. You called out for me, but when I came you didn't want me there. You called out for daddy with the same results. You wanted nap to be done, but you didn't know what you wanted in its place. You wanted to play but you didn't want out of your crib. You turned down everything we offered, and when we gave you some more time to wake up and sort yourself out, you were upset we weren't sticking around. This went on for about 20 minutes. At one point I offered to lift you out of your crib again, and you said, "No I don't want to!" Very calmly and gently I replied, "Don't worry, honey, we're not going to make you do anything you don't want to." To which you responded, "NO! You can't say that!"

That's you in a nutshell, little man.


It's hard being two going on three. You're like a teenager: thinking you know everything there is to know and having to put up with parents who are so dumb and so cruel. I know these day won't last, but they're tough on all of us. You're a fighter, River, and one day those traits that make you so hard to live with as a toddler will make you such an amazing man. You will stand up for yourself and your beliefs. You will be creative and confident. You will have a determination I can only imagine. I am so proud of you, and while raising you isn't an easy task, it is an infinitely rewarding one.


I love you both, my little dears. You are each in your own way just what I always wanted.

Mommy