8 Months with Alaska

Favorite Things: The fridge.  You will hear it open from around the corner and put on your turbo-charged crawling pace to get there before it closes.

Special Talents: Cruzing along the couch, the chair, anything that will hold you up.  You've started to lift yourself from the ground in a stand and when you are up-right you look a little startled as to how you got there and sit back down carefully.

Remember When:  We were so excited the first time you stood up we cheered and clapped and scared you enough to make you plop down and shed a few tears on the floor.

A Month of Firsts: Your two bottom teeth are in and almost lined up.  The left is still a little lower because it didn't get the head start.  I didn't even know you were teething until I went to reach in for a piece of leaf that you love putting in your mouth when we're outside and felt something hard and nubby on your gums.  That doesn't make me a bad mom, that makes you an awesome little girl to not be grumpy when you've got teeth popping in.

Favorite Pastime:  Climbing stairs.  You love it.  And you're good at it.

Nickname: Alaska Paska most times, Punky others.

Sleep:  To bed at 7:30, up at 7:30.  You are ready for a nap at 10 and again at 1.

Crying: When you are hungry.  I've gotten kind of busy and you usually need to remind me to feed you.  You love kisses and don't cry too long when you bump a head or smash a finger.

Dislikes:  Baby food.  We're still mostly struggling with that.  You will sit on my lap and eat two or three spoonfulls and refuse any more.  In the high chair you are only interested in one or two spoonfulls.  If we do that 5 times a day we can get through half a bottle of baby food.

Likes:  Play dates.  You have gotten so lucky!  I am watching my cousin's little boy three times a week and you LOVE following him around.  I have also started water aerobics and trade babysitting hours with a mommy in the ward.  You love going over there to play.

My favorite part:  I am your favorite person right now.

Rookie Mistakes

It's been a month for rookie mistakes.  Of the dating sort.  If I were still writing chapters in the 'looking for Mr. Right' book of my life I would definitely have lost a few dates.

Rookie Mistake #1: Hairy legs.  We're talking HAIRY legs.  Not just a little stubble, but the kind that you can see from 5 ft away.  When I am in the shower I am washing my hair as fast as I can, grabbing a towel, and jumping out before Alaska even knew that I was gone while she was doing her exploratory rounds of the house in the morning.  You know, to make sure no one came in and stole her toys right from under her and that they are still laying by the kitchen sink, smooshed up against the fridge, scattered through the hall and sprinkled in the living room.  And then there I am, not even a second thought to those prickly legs, as I tear through my dresser drawers looking for something that isn't in the wash.  Because, let's face it, wash is hard to get around to when you have to haul not only the laundry, but a 17 lb baby up and down the stairs.

Rookie Mistkake #2: The bun.  Known on pinterest as the top knot.  I think it's cute.  It's easy.  Can be paired with a skirt as easily as it can be paired with sweat pants.  Apparently it's not attractive.  Says Handsome Husband.  And well, if I caught him once, I should be able to catch him twice.  But he says no way.  It's the scary monster in his nightmares.

Rookie Mistake #3:  My brain reflexes have been slowed down, immensely.  It used to be if there were a schedule conflict I could sort things out super quick and find un-used time or a second solution in seconds.  Now, if my plans are thwarted, I cannot for the life of me think of another solution.  I had a friend with me that I had begged to come with the pool with me.  We got to the front desk and the water aerobics was canceled because they were putting the bubble on to make the out-door pool indoor.  We turned around and drove home, I dropped her off, and as she got out of the car she said something about if it were closed next week we should go for a walk.  Duh!  Why didn't I think of that first?  And suggest it for this week since I still had a hour that I could leave Alaska at the babysitters?  Thinking on your feet is essential in the dating game.  If you want to stay a-top the jungle you have got to have solutions all over the place for dates gone wrong.  Had that of been a date it would have ended early due to my inability to think of a second idea.

And then there's Handsome Husband's rookie mistake.  He buzzed his hair.  It got too long, he hates getting it cut because no one can ever 'do it right' and he was in a 'I can do it myself' kind of mood.  The shears were opened, plugged in and his hair was gone.  And it looked bad.  BunX3 bad.  He's promised never to do it again.  And I've tried hard to find other quick-fix options for wet hair than the bun.

Am I Ready For This?

For the most part I think of myself as a very relaxed momma.  A person could easily go crazy thinking of 'what ifs' and 'what thens' when it comes to children.  Especially raising children right to be outstanding citizens.  Children that know they came from a loving family in heaven, have a purpose on this earth, and a place to go when they leave their mortal body.

It's too scary.  So I don't think about it and know that everything will fall in to place as it should.  And if nothing else, I pray that none of my children need to go to jail to get their lives sorted out for themselves.

But I do get scared.  I get so scared that I start to hyperventilate about the future.  About Alaska going to school her first day.  About her going over to a friend's house.  Her first birthday party even.  And by first I mean the one that is going to be here in 5 months.  I know, it shouldn't be scary, but anything in the future is scary.  Anything that I don't know about right now is scary.  Anything where Alaska has to make a decision and I hope that I have taught her well enough to make the right decision hounds on me and takes my breath away.

I remember when I used to be so scared for her to sit up.  When I was holding that little baby that just wanted to sleep all day and snuggle I got nervous about her walking.

Silly, right?

Yes, totally ridiculous.  After having watched her roll over and sit up and now crawl I have realized that everything comes naturally and at it's own pace.  I think perhaps babies learn things in steps not for them, but for their parents.  Us.  Wouldn't it be a heart stopper to have your 3 month-old tell you, "Momma, stop kissing my cheeks.  You're making me claustrophobic"  Yes.  It would.

When Alaska's first day of school comes around, even though I am not ready for it now, I am sure by the time it is here we're going to be waiting for the bus half a hour early because we're both so excited.  Or, let's be realistic, we're going to be yelling and crying as I try to get her pigtails just so on her head as she squirms in excitement and I am going to pull too hard and she's going to cry and I am going to say something about how if she would just sit still... And then the bus will come and the bus will go and she'll be driving in the car to her first day of kindergarten.

I Don't Want to be THAT Momma

I am having a little bit of a hard time right now.  We've been to Oregon, family from Oregon has been here, and we've been back to Oregon all this summer.  School is going to start and the trips back and forth are going to slow down until the holidays.  Which means I am going to be low on adventures to tell people.  Which then causes me to talk about the thing I know the most about, Alaska.  The baby girl, not the state.  

And believe me when I say, there is nothing, absolutely nothing, more boring than hearing someone talk about their kids.  Unless their kids do really embarrassing stuff.  Then I don't mind at all because a good story is a good story, despite the main characters.  But I don't want to be that momma.  I want to have my own things to talk about.  After all, I wasn't always a momma and just because I can wipe spit-up on my own jeans off Alaska's mouth with my bare hand does not mean that my world needs to totally revolve around her.

I am on a quest.  A quest to continue to be my own person.  Let's relay the pitfalls first, though.  'Cause after that, anything is possible.  One) Handsome Husband doesn't have the same day off every week.  Two) Handsome Husband never has Saturdays off.  Three) Handsome Husband cannot be relied on to come home at the same time every day, let alone before 7 pm.  Four) I have a baby.  Five) I don't want to leave her with someone to watch because One) She's almost getting into everything.  Two) I have no money to pay someone to watch her.  Three) How much and what do you pay a babysitter anyways?

So... now that you know the problems and I have them typed out for myself... let the brain storming begin.  Ummm... zumba would be really fun.  Or water aerobics.  Or taking a painting class or a cake decorating class.  Dance.  Reading to kids in the elementary school.  Volunteering at a pet shelter.  Going to city council meetings.  

We have a solution.  Number one: Tell Steven to beg for the same day off a week.  Number two. Find one of those things to do that is on a week evening.

And because I am just that awesome and I would love to have two things to talk about with people... Number one: Offer to trade babysitting hours with someone in the ward.  Number two: Find one of those things to do that is on a week day.

First Mission: Crawl. Second Mission: Run

Well Alaska Paska... this one is for you.  Our little punky.  This is the story of how you learned to crawl.  Now before you knock it as "Momma's being too sentimental" you must understand that I am going to need to re-read this a few times when you are terrorizing the house at full speed.  And then I will remember that I knew it was coming.  There was a time I was prepared for your little fingers into everything.

You started at a baby's normal rate of army crawling it across the floor but all the while you would always ALWAYS be up on your hands and knees first.  You knees would move according to theory and would run into your hands bending you in half.  And then when you couldn't figure out how to move your hands forward you would flop into a belly crawl and scoot yourself to where you wanted to go.

This would happen over and over again.  A few days later you were moving your hands according to theory as well as your knees but it was common for you to trip over yourself.  You still wanted to move faster than you were currently able.  So you would start off crawling, trip, army crawl, decide crawling was faster and back up to your hands and knees you would go.

This all happened remarkably fast.  I have made it a rule to never compare you to any baby ('cause, let's be honest, they don't have a fighting chance) but sometimes I can't help but notice obvious differences.  Like how alert you were from the very beginning, how you never banged your head around - you were always in perfect control - your very precise leg exercises and now your crawling learning curve.  You are pretty awesome and I have a feeling you are going to achieve some pretty awesome things.

So go get 'em baby girl.  In no time you're going to be running all over the place and peaking into drawers and slamming your fingers in cupboards.  It's bound to happen and right now, I am ready for it.

Seven Months with Alaska

Favorite Things: Pink painted toes.  You love them.  I'll be cooking dinner and stay still just a little too long and your little fingers have pounced on my toes before I know you're even there.

Special Talents:  You certainly didn't mess around with any kind of army crawling.  You are up and moving and getting faster every single day.

Favorite Pastime:  Following your momma around the house.  I can keep you quite busy just by moving room to room as I pick up and do laundry.

Nickname: Your sweet personality is starting to show through more than ever but you've got a strong will.  Right now you are most often called 'punky' as I scoop you into my arms after you have told me all there is to know about how much you hate going to bed at 7:30.

Sleep:  Thank goodness teething hasn't caused any problems to your night sleep.  I can still count on you sleeping 7:30 to 7.  Your naps are slowly coming back and you are ready at 9 and at 1 for a good mood booster.

Crying: I am pretty sure you bonk that noggin of yours every day and you cry a little each time.  You need more and more attention and let us know with little hyperventilated gasps.

Dislikes:  Food.  The first time I gave you anything in a spoon you swallowed like the good child that you are but clamped your lips shut tight and would back away if I came at you with a spoon again.

Likes: You still get baths in the sink and I let you play in the water until you get bored enough to start searching for things outside of the sink to play with.  You have been known to stretch yourself across the counter to grab a measuring cup.  You also like practicing with your sippy cup.  You can hold it correctly and get the right parts in your mouth but you still struggle lifting enough to get the water in the right place.

My favorite part:  You have so much energy and are so curious about everything.  When we go on car rides you are so anxious to get out that you push with your arms away from the carseat after I unbuckle you.

Toothpaste Etiquette

Handsome Husband and I rarely get ready for bed together.  I know, you say, "How unromantic!"  But seriously, we're avoiding cracked ribs and bruises in all seriousness.

You see, whoever is the last one in bed has to turn off the light.  I hate turning off the light.  It's always a big race as to who can get done brushing the fastest and out the door.  Believe me, I can brush my teeth the fastest.  Steven has to take his contacts out before he starts brushing.  Something about 'rule of the routine'.  But getting out of the bathroom?  That's another story.  I always always always get pinned against the mirror on the opposite wall and if I can get my hips out from around him my feet can't keep up and I get pinned against the door.  Then I am lost.  You can guarantee I will have bruises come the next day.  So then I take a last attempt chance at sneaking the other way and maybe landing a 'soft, playful punch' in the tummy for the blockade in my way and then one punch deserves another so I end up even more bruised and still not able to escape.  And I lose.  I have to hit the light.

Yesterday was a night where I was being sneaky and wasn't rushing my teeth brushing to get ahead and Steven didn't even know we were racing.  I won.  But only after getting pinned into a discussion about toothpaste etiquette.  I know, right?  Classic married problem.  Yuck.

But really.  I squeeze the paste from the bottom, put the cap on the toothpaste, clean my brush so it doesn't get nasties everywhere and I always rinse the sink after spitting.  Who could complain?

It wasn't good enough.  I wasn't putting the cap on tight enough.  Apparently there's air in the tube and if I don't create a seal then the toothpaste falls to the bottom.  I had no idea!  And I guess I do have a problem of twisting things on enough.  Which is why soy sauce was sprinkled over our whole fridge at one point.  I had merely twisted once instead of screwing it on.  I digress.

So, I learned some bathroom etiquette and beat Steven to bed.  All in a evening's work.