A baby on the move creates the highest level of anxiety. There should be a red phone somewhere that has a direct link to a team of highly skilled babyproofers that you can pick up like the BATPHONE and recieve immediate assistance from these superheroes. As you can see, her royal chunkiness is on the move. Commando crawling everywhere, taste testing everything in sight (including the 75 year old who knows what metal kickplates under the doors,) following mommy, evie and daddy, investigating and generally wreaking havoc on the household McCawley. Holy moley, she is FAST, too! When she sees something her little hands (or mouth) must have, it’s like the 100 meter commando crawl trials at baby olympics. And, trust me, she would TOTALLY win.
In addition to this baby nobel prize worthy accomplishment, we have graduated to small bites of table food (can you say heimlich manuever,) real baths in the tub, clapping hands and possibly, just maybe getting ready to say MAMA!! Oh & did I mention those adorable 2 lower front teeth?
Charley’s personality certainly matches her baby kewpie doll looks. She has got to be the sweetest child out there. Happy even when teething, the only thing that sets her over the edge is too much time away from Mama or a little tumble that knocks her wind out. Boy, you would think the child had a limb removed without anesthetic when she falls over. NO doubt in my mind that she has the LOUDEST scream on the island of Okinawa. She can however, shut her fingers in the drawer of the step tonsu and she will only grunt in response to that indignity. Hm. Can you say DRAMA QUEEN?
Speaking of Drama Queens, my little love bug is certainly deeply entrenched in the drama that is year 4. That little cutie pie has discovered her inner diva. My search for patience has gone so far beyond counting to 10 that I have discovered a new number. Alert mathematicians everywhere. It seems that every task requires negotiation, every meal is DRAMA and asserting herself is #1 on the priority list. While I’m over the moon that she is learning independence and how to make good choices, I secretly long for the days when Mommy was the coolest person on earth and hugs/kisses were 1st on the list of to do’s for the day. The angst of “my baby is growing up,” has already set in and she is only FOUR. Crap, I am so in for it. Reserve my spot on the funny farm.
Me, I spend my days hoping that tomorrow I’ll wake up with the secret to raising good kids. It seems like every day I come across a new and disturbing issue that I must wrestle with to figure out how to NOT damage my children. Lately, I am obsessed with fear over moving back to the US. It’s not my fear of moving to a place bigger or less friendly (well, yes it is) but really it’s my fear of how to raise them in an environment obsessed with THINGS. I spent a more than ample share of my life obsessed with THINGS and it has taken every ounce of my being to learn that life is about more than what we have or will have. How do I teach my children that when they are still small enough for it to make a true difference in how they view life? Don’t get me wrong, I like stuff as much as the next person, but I’ve had to figure out which stuff is truly important and what is just CRAP. Still working on it, as a matter of fact. Do they have commercial free TV in the lower 48? Can I send my child to school without her coming home wanting every new gadget with a logo on it? Is there a bubble available for me to move into?
I’m putting it in writing. I WILL raise my children without commercialism. I don’t really know how yet, but I will figure it out. And when I do? I will BRAG until I am blue in the face. Marketers everywhere, beware. I will NOT let you into the brains of my babies.
And that, folks, is all.
Off to a workout!
Luv,
Tiff