It's a Christmas Miracle!!

Last night, on Christmas Eve, the very night of Santa's arrival, we witnessed a true miracle.

Amelia was running around naked, chasing her soccer ball. Justin and I were playing keep-away with A in the middle, squealing hysterically. Then she squatted. I asked her if she had to peepee and she ran into the bathroom, sat on her potty-- and promptly ran back to the game. Close, I thought!! Then, she squatted again and Justin took her to the potty again. Since the game was over, she sat . . . And peed!!!

She peed on the potty! PEED ON THE POTTY!!!

There were hugs and kisses all around. She took some TP, wiped, and stood to look at her victory.
It's a Christmas miracle!
AND she's still in bed. I believe, I believe!

So the next chapter has begun--and quite frankly, I have NO idea where to go from here.

Merry, merry Christmas everyone!!

And thank you Santa.
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Dear Santa

 

Hello again, friend. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I wrote you last! So many things have changed, Santa. Thank you for for helping me feel better, get off my medicines, and finally eat some cheese. I know it was you, Santa, who made these wishes come true from last year. I must have been a very good girl for you to be so generous!
I promise that I have been good this year too. I let my parents sleep a lot more and even give hugs and kisses when I want something.  I always stop when my parents catch me riding the dogs and only spit my food out when it’s really bad. I ‘use my words’ whenever I can and only stomp my feet when nobody’s listening.

It’s hard Santa, to be a toddler, but I think I am doing well. In exchange for all of my goodness, I only ask for a few things.

I would really like to get something with doors, friend. I like to open and close them often and hide things behind them. I can spend hours organizing cupboards and drawers, so it just makes sense to take my talents to the next level.

I think I need more friends too, St. Nick.  I spend way too much time with my puppies and sometimes forget that we are different. It’s been okay so far, but mommy is sure that I will go to school someday and throw socks at my friends. I already run to the kitchen and sit when my parents get ice or treats and run to the window barking when someone comes to the door.  I just love them so, Santa.

 

I also wish my mommy would go back to work soon so I can sleep. Since she’s been home on break, I feel the need to wake up at night and get up before the sun. I’m just so excited to see her, you know, but it makes me tired and cranky. You’d think she’d be excited in the morning because she doesn’t have to work, but she seems more confused and annoyed, Santa. Since I’ve gotten up before dawn every day since mom’s been off, it might just better for all of use if she goes back to school soon. 

And while we’re talking about mommy, she seems to want me to pee on the potty. I don’t know why because diapers work just fine, Santa. She keeps putting me on the potty and waiting but she doesn’t know that I wait too, until I have my diaper back on. Maybe you can help me figure out going on the potty, friend? It seems so easy and exciting and fun to play on the potty, but a little bit hard to, you know, go. Wink, wink.

That should just about do it this time. It was really great to meet you this month, Santa and I looooove saying your name! Sometimes I even chant it, “Santa, Santa, Santaaaaaaaaa” just so you know how much I love you.

Hope to see you soon!

Love, Amelia

Christmas card outtakes

To be filed in the “this was much easier last year” folder.

As if trying to a get a one-and-a-half year old to sit still, smile, and um, focus for one stinking minute isn’t hard enough, we added in two labs just for the challenge of it all. It’s called extreme parenting.

There was sweat. Muttered cursing. Bribery. Threats.

And a little giggling too. On my part I mean. I got to sit on the floor with the camera while Justin played shoot producer to a few unwilling participants. Amelia on the other hand, refuses to smile in front of the camera.

 

Really, you’d think the dogs would be the least cooperative. But no. They are like perfect statues. It’s the kid. The star of the show, without whom there is no shot, who insists on high maintenance.

There is a reason we don’t have a tree yet . . . and why our cards haven’t been sent also.

 

Winner?

From the Mama

Dear Santa,

I'm good.

Thanks anyway,

MamaG

Wordless Wednesday

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because, well . . .

 

The Life and Times of an 18-month-old

I’ve been a bad blogger and I think a decade into the 21st century that somehow also means a bad mommy. In any case, Amelia is 18 months old . . . and still alive! Since there was indeed a day when we didn’t know if we’d make it, I still remark at the miracle that is keeping another human alive.

The stats:

She is a tall girl, 33 inches and in the 90th percentile for height. I’m not much into the comparison chart thing, but 90th is significantly taller than most her age. She is, on the flip side, tiny, at only 24 lbs and in the 50th percentile for weight. Please don’t ask me how her father and I created a long, thin baby. Only some kind of genetic genius could tell you, I’m sure. That chub-rolled baby of last year has disappeared either way.

She is true to her genetics as a talker though. She talks as well as most two year-olds and has an expansive vocabulary that takes me off guard each day. She learns much faster than I teach apparently and I find myself having conversations with her that surprise me daily. The world is a much easier place to navigate with a talking baby. Not to mention that she tends to crack me up too. She’s reserved and shy, but thoughtful and sweet. She loves to read and sing and “help.” She’s the best friend a mom could ask for.

She’s also very sophisticated at the dinner table . . .

Even if a little sarcastic, no?

She truly is just getting more and more fun. Babies are sweet and chubby and drooly, but I’ll take my little girl any day. We are having the best time together . . . it seems that time is just slipping away as a result too. I guess that’s how cliches are born. . .

FALL RECAP:

Apple Hill

Thanksgiving

Hmmm. Nobody sees me with Mama’s phone

HELLO? One of her funniest bits is picking up the phone and saying, “Allo? Goooood. . . hahahahah” I have no idea where she gets that.

What? I don’t have a phone

Busted.

Another party?

I still can’t believe she’s a year and a half! Practically grown.

The adventure continues.

Wordless Wednesday

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Under construction

More soon!


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