The Weight Watchers

Last Friday, C went to her two year physical at Dr. P's office. I looked forward to sharing some of Caitlin's newest milestones with Dr. P., like jumping, occasionally peeing on the potty, and sometimes speaking in sentences. C seems to learn something new every day and we are consistently amazed and amused by her many achievements and antics. I had no concerns regarding Caitlin's development. In fact, I believed she was thriving in every way.

When we entered the examination room, a nurse and nurse-in-training asked routine questions about our home life and C's medical history. They measured her height, exactly 36 inches. Next, they tried measuring C's weight. As soon as C stood on the rickety upright scale, she began to cry and seek immediate escape. The nurses suggested I plop her on the infant scale. Again, C screamed, begged, and pleaded to get down. In order to soothe her apprehension, we tried to weigh C's dolly. I stood on the scale, grinning as though I loved nothing more than checking my weight, even 27 weeks pregnant. We let Caitlin play with the balancing mechanism on top of the scale. Nothing worked. Finally, the nurses led C to a digital scale in the next examination room. Although she only stood on the scale for one second, the nurses were able to record Caitlin's weight-34 pounds, 11.5 ounces.

We returned to our original examination room where the nurses entered Caitlin's information into the computer. Together, the nurses scrutinized C's chart and discussed something "not looking right." Calling me to the computer screen, they showed me how Caitlin's weight falls outside her projected growth given her height, age, and previous weights. Surely, the nurses thought they made a mistake and back to the digital scale we went. Again, C stood on the scale for one second and again the scale recorded exactly 34 pounds, 11.5 ounces. There was no mistake.

Since birth, Caitlin's weight and height have fallen above the 95%tile for her age, therefore I did not feel any concern regarding her current weight. She eats well, she is active, her overall health is excellent. Although I was not worried, the nurses seemed concerned and went to find Dr. P. Certainly, Dr. P. would reassure the Weight Watchers that C has always been big and this number was nothing to worry about.

After looking at C's chart however, Dr. P. also seemed slightly worried. She asked me about C's eating habits. She recommended we switch from whole milk to skim. She gave advice on portion control and waiting at least 20 minutes before offering C seconds. As I listened to her advice, I found myself feeling first defensive, then angry, then ashamed. Am I doing something wrong? Am I raising a child heading down a road toward childhood obesity?

I thought about our habits at home. Should I not allow Caitlin to drink an occasional juice box? Was I wrong to give her seconds at dinner last night? Do I need to throw out our box of Fig Newtons, even though they are the whole grain variety? Then, I began defending myself. For God sakes, my daughter eats quinoa! One of her favorite foods is broccoli. I told Dr. P. we do not have junk food in the house (not entirely true, but I do not share my Cheetos with Caitlin). We eat a balanced diet. I am a healthy cook. We take walks and go to the park almost every day. Dr. P. said she was certain we were doing everything right, but again mentioned we should switch to skim milk.

When we left the doctor's office my feelings of shame and anger gave way to insecurity. Maybe Caitlin is big because I am somehow negligent. Caitlin has always loved food. As a baby, she ate bowl after bowl of sweet potatoes, oatmeal, and yogurt. I never forbid her from having seconds. If C asks for more, I believe she must feel hungry and need the sustenance. While we stock our home with healthy choices, I certainly do not deny Caitlin an occasional hot dog, cookie, or bowl of ice cream. Since being pregnant, my own eating habits have steered slightly toward the unhealthy. Maybe I've steered my daughter in the same direction. I never once worried about Caitlin's weight, however leaving this appointment I began to wonder if maybe I had reason to worry after all.

Over the next week, a couple of incidents occurred that made me feel even more insecure. On Wednesday night, we celebrated Papa's birthday. After we sang Happy Birthday, Nana announced to the room, "Why don't we wait to serve cake until after Caitlin goes to bed. The doctor said she's overweight." While her statement was met with loud protests from the guests, Caitlin and I left very quickly. Heaven forbid we delay the family from eating cake. And last Friday while playing in the park, Caitlin sat next to a little boy on top of the slide. The boy's mother and I made small talk about our children and she asked about Caitlin's age. When I said Caitlin turned two about a week ago, the mother replied, "Oh my God! She's a giant!" Her son turned two in May and Caitlin was nearly double his size. Envisioning my enormous daughter trampling her fragile son on the playground, Caitlin and I soon headed for home.

Then I received a phone call from Dr. P's office. While I sat in a meeting, my iPhone vibrated, alerting me to a voicemail from the doctor. Clearly, a terrible message was waiting for me. Why does a doctor's office call, unless they have bad news to share? Unable to leave my meeting, I became increasingly distracted and anxious, fearing an endless list of terrible possibilities. By the end of my meeting, I convinced myself Caitlin had type I diabetes. I imagined a life filled with insulin shots and a gluten-free diet. Finally, my meeting ended and I was practically in tears as my shaky hands dialed voicemail.

As I listened to my voicemail, a nurse cheerfully told me Caitlin's blood work was normal and she was not at risk for lead poisoning. She did not mention Caitlin's weight. She certainly did not mention diabetes. Feeling great relief, I suddenly realized my worries were truly ridiculous. Yes, my daughter is big for her age. One day, she may be the tallest child in her kindergarten class. She may soon outgrow toddler-sized clothing. She may like to eat a second, or even third, hot dog every now and then. But, she is healthy, she is growing, and she is beautiful. Worrying about her weight and denying her the chance to eat food she enjoys will only create further anxiety and possibly distort my daughter's views about food forever. I am not going to take that chance. We will switch to skim milk, but tonight, we are also going to eat some cake.

Happy Birthday Two You!

Happy Birthday to Caitlin! Our little munchkin celebrated her second birthday on August 23rd.

Caitlin loved smashing pieces of red velvet cake into her mouth, while Bella hovered nearby, hoping for a taste or two. I think we took this picture about five seconds before bringing Bella indoors for compulsive food stealing.

Caitlin and cousin Keira spent hours playing in the backyard, chasing Bella, sliding on C's slide, "helping" rake the yard, and rolling in the dirt. This picture was taken before both girls permanently destroyed their birthday finery. By the end of the day, C's tutu shredded to pieces and her 2 t-shirt somehow turned brown. Thankfully, the bow and the Wee Squeak shoes survived.

Here we are-Mama and the Terrific Two Year Old. We've learned so much together in these two years, however I have yet to learn how to make C smile for a picture. This seems an impossible dream.

Second Pregnancy Syndrome

I am tired. So tired that last week I fell asleep while watching a Red Sox game-in Fenway Park. I fell asleep standing up in the shower. I felt similarly exhausted during my first trimester, however that was expected. Now I am well into my second trimester-a time of supposed abundant energy and vigor. If I'm this tired now with 16 or so weeks left, how will I ever stay awake through my third trimester? Maybe I'll sleep through the entire end of my pregnancy and wake up when the new baby arrives.

I thought something was wrong with me. Maybe I am dehydrated. Maybe I do not eat enough iron. Maybe ice cream contains tryptophan. I shared my concerns with Midwife Suzy at my 24 week appointment on Monday. While Midwife Suzy said my exhaustion could be due to any number of things-low iron, dehydration, heat and humidity-she said most likely I suffer from a very common, yet widely unknown condition called Second Pregnancy Syndrome.

I am not alone. Millions of women, usually after an extra glass of pinot noir or two, willingly, some with great diligence and determination, actually try to get pregnant for a second time. Suckers like us forget how physically and emotionally challenging pregnancy was the first time around. We actually had time to care for ourselves and we only had to care for ourselves and not worry about a little tot running around underfoot.

When I was pregnant with Caitlin, I took a nap almost every day during my first and third trimesters. I slept hard. I drooled. During one afternoon nap, a giant oak tree fell down on my street and landed on my neighbor's car, taking with it a telephone pole and power lines, and knocking out power to the entire neighborhood. My street was illuminated by the flashing lights of emergency vehicles and flashes from nosy neighbor's cameras. I slept through the entire thing.

Being pregnant with a toddler, I do not have the luxury of taking drool-inducing three hour afternoon naps. Sure, I could nap when Caitlin naps, but when would I do laundry, clean my house, pay bills, watch Bravo, or write this blog? And now that Caitlin only naps once a day for about two hours, I spend most of my day chasing her from various place to place. She would rather play "Hide from Monster" or visit the playground, than play "Let's Watch the Inside of Mom's Eyelids and See What Happens."

All of this toddler chasing and lack of rest led to my diagnosis of Second Pregnancy Syndrome. The primary symptom of SPS is sheer, utter, mother effing exhaustion. The secondary symptoms of SPS are simultaneous sneezing and pants pissing, as well as borderline precarious caffeine consumption. Midwife Suzy recommends trying to rest as much as possible, knowing that in reality this will probably equal five extra minutes of rest per day. There is no cure.

I'm afraid Second Pregnancy Syndrome prepares second time moms for the chronic condition known as, Second Child Sleep Extinction, which transforms once semi-rested, content mothers of one, into night walking zombie mamas with gaping black holes where their eyes once sparkled. They may or may not eat their young, especially if it will buy them some extra shut eye.

I am also afraid SPS will initiate my downward spiral toward Crappy Parenting. Many days, I feel too exhausted to give parenting all of the energy it deserves. While I want to run in the park with my daughter, my body wants to lay down on the couch and turn on Sesame Street. I fear I am often too tired to put forth my best effort and my child will suffer the consequences of my fatigue.

My diagnosis of Second Pregnancy Syndrome leaves me frustrated and fearful, however whining and complaining will not remedy my situation. The only remedy is to make a concerted effort to get more rest. I began my course of treatment today and enjoyed a delicious afternoon nap. I may even go to bed before 10:00 tonight. If you see me night walking around the Boston suburbs, please send me straight to bed. Good night.

A Morning at the Capron Park Zoo

Last week, I took Caitlin to the Capron Park Zoo. The Zoo is located in Attleboro, minutes from the highway. The Capron Park Zoo provides toddlers, preschoolers, and their families an educational, fun, and affordable outing. First, the zoo is small, which means Caitlin could walk through the entire zoo without tiring and whining, "Up, up." If you arrive close to opening, the zoo is not crowded. This afforded Caitlin a prime view of the African lions, snow leopard, and red kangaroos on display. While many animals were napping in the sun or hiding, we were able to witness red kangaroos hopping alongside their mamas, sloth bears wrestling, and a Visayan warty pig playing with a basketball.

There are also two different feeding areas at Capron Park. In one area, children are able to feed goats and llamas. Walk across the bridge over the pond and there is another spot where children can feed ducks. Animal food costs a quarter, so if you visit the Capron Park Zoo bring change or ask for change in the visitor center.

After children see the animals, they can play on the splash pad located right near the zoo entry. Outside of the zoo there is a large playground with distinct areas for older children and toddlers. The Capron Park Zoo is located within a larger park, so there are plenty of tables and grassy spots for a picnic.

Admission prices are highly affordable. Children under three are free. Admission for children ages three to twelve costs $5.50. Adults pay only $7.00. If you happen to be an Attleboro resident, admission costs even less. There is a concession stand and eating area inside of the zoo, in addition to the picnic areas outside the zoo gates. Wagons are available for rent, which gives tired tykes a chance to rest and watch the animals.

The Capron Park Zoo gets high praise from this mama. If you are looking for something fun and affordable to do this summer, definitely pay them a visit!

http://www.capronparkzoo.com/

Trucks are for Girls

During our recent Maine vacation, I took Caitlin to Reny's, a self-proclaimed "Maine Adventure." Reny's sells items such as, plastic lawn flamingos in various heights and colors, boogie boards, Crocs, last season's Oshkosh Bogosh fashions, hunting supplies, and wicker furniture. Reny's also boasts an impressive toy section, complete with a variety of beautiful, wooden Melissa and Doug toys.

I took Caitlin to Reny's to buy necessities for the condo and pick out a new toy. After eight days in Maine, the five toys I packed in my L.L. Bean tote no longer cut the mustard. As we entered the toy department, Caitlin made a beeline to the truck section. My little girl loves trucks. She also loves airplanes, trains, bicycles, sailboats, vans, cars, motorcycles, helicopters, hovercrafts, and all other things that go. Despite an affinity for all modes of transportation, trucks truly captured Caitlin's heart. Since we did not have trucks at home, I encouraged her to choose a roaring, enormous, shiny truck to call her own.

As Caitlin inspected truck after truck, a little girl about three or four years old wandered over to us. Thinking she may love trucks as well, Caitlin handed a green dump truck to the little girl. Rather than accepting Caitlin's generosity, the little girl said to me, "The girl toys are down this aisle." I followed her finger to an aisle exploding with glittering tiaras, plastic cases filled with Barbies, princesses, and ponies, dress-up purple feather boas with matching purple high heels, costume earrings and necklaces, and pink, pink, and more pink. "Thank you," I responded to the little girl, "But my daughter likes trucks." Miss Informative shrugged and walked back to her parents. As they walked into the Pink Plastic Tunnel of Princesses and Fairies, Caitlin found a new red fire truck with a ladder that moves up and down to capture her attention. She showed no interest in the pink aisle and I did not encourage her to move.

My conversation with the little girl at Reny's made me wonder, when do children begin to notice the difference between "girl toys" and "boy toys?" What happens to the little girl who loves playing with trucks, rather than playing with dolls? When do children begin to tease the little boy who loves Barbies and playing dress up?

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a construction worker more than anything, despite my mom's "how 'bout an architect?" suggestions. I loved building with blocks. I wore a yellow Tonka hard hat, evidenced in many of my childhood photos. It wasn't until I was in second or third grade that I showed any interest in Barbies, My Little Ponies, and other toys deemed girly. Much like Caitlin, I had interests that lay outside of typical gender expectations. Sure, I had dolls and stuffed animals, but my heart belonged to the blocks.

Caitlin's heart belongs to the trucks. I hope she will stay true to herself. When she grows older, I hope Caitlin will continue to follow her interests regardless of what others think. I love that she plays with both baby dolls and trucks. I love that she doesn't show much interest in the Pink Plastic Tunnel of Princesses, at least for now. However, if one day Caitlin wants to walk down the Pink Aisle I will encourage her choices just as heartily. I will just miss listening to her make little "Vroom, vroom" sounds as she steers her dump truck across the hardwoods.

Only in My Dreams

The night before our eighteen week ultrasound, I could not sleep. Our room was too hot. My sheets came untucked from the end of the bed. My pajamas did not fit. I woke to pee at least three times. And worst of all, I had a crazy-time, pregnancy-hormone induced dream. In my dream, Matt and I went to our ultrasound, full of anticipation. While examining images of our baby, the doctor squinted, rubbed her chin, sighed, and repeatedly said, "Hmmmm..." Finally, she turned to Matt and me and said, "I'm not sure how to tell you this, so I'll just say it. Did you know you were carrying a horse?" While I was able to deliver a 9 lb, 13 oz baby, I don't have it in me to deliver a horse, even one of the those comically adorable miniature ponies you may see at a petting zoo or in the circus. I woke up sweating, anxious about the unknown, and fearing the worst.

The next morning, I went to our ultrasound appointment exhausted and nervous. While waiting for the doctor to arrive, I told Matt about my dream from the night before:

Me: "O.k. don't laugh at me, but I'm so nervous. I had a dream last night that our baby is actually not a baby at all, but a horse."

Husband: "Really. Well, I guess I'll have to build a stable. I wonder if there is room in the backyard?"

Me: "Seriously, I'm really nervous."

Husband: "I know, horses are expensive. I wonder how much hay our baby horse will need?"

Me: "Stop it. You are not helping. You are not funny. At all."

In the middle of this exchange, the ultrasound doctor arrived, eliminating my opportunity to really give my husband a piece of my mind. She asked routine questions about my past pregnancy, my current pregnancy, and my overall health. Suddenly, in the middle of her questions, I told the doctor about my horse dream. I over share. It's something I'm working on. While Matt stifled giggles, she nodded, looked at me as though I could be the biggest moron ever to walk into Boston Ultrasound, but said, "I'm sure your baby is just fine. Let's have a look and you'll see."

After moment or two, our little baby appeared on the video display screen looking every bit like a healthy, developing, and (thank goodness) human baby. The doctor commented on Baby's strong heart, developing brain, kidneys, lungs, and bladder. We saw Baby kick its legs and make fists with its tiny hands. At one point, it even looked like Baby waved hello. As I watched our new baby on the screen, I finally exhaled and released all of the anxiety I've been carrying throughout this pregnancy. I soaked in the images of our baby, imagining the color of his or her eyes, wondering if Baby would have long fingers like Caitlin. The only things distracting me from this little wonder were Matt's muffled whinnies, neighs, and hee haws. He thinks he is hilarious. I am considering attending all future appointments alone.

Here is a picture of Baby from its first photo shoot. Looks like he or she has my hubby's oversized head. Lucky mama!!

I Said No

My daughter does not listen to me. For months, the Terrific Tot was compliant, pleasant, and agreeable most of the time. If I asked her to put a fork in the dishwasher, clean up her toys, or stop trying to ride the dog like a small pony, she would smile, listen, and obey. I thought I had a remarkable child, impervious to the obstinacy that comes with toddlerhood. I was a total idiot.

Over the past month, something has changed. Now when I ask the Terrific Tot to do just about anything, her standard response is, "NO."

"Caitlin, it's time to take your bath." "NO."

"Caitlin, let's go upstairs for naptime." "NO."

"Caitlin, please brush your teeth." "Seriously?"

"Caitlin, come eat your supper." "Didn't you hear me the first time lady? I said, 'NO!'"

When she hears my voice, Caitlin simply looks up from her toys, stares, looks back at her toys, sighs, says "NO," and goes right on playing. Could she speak in sentences, I think she would say, "Listen, Mom, I know you are trying to take care of me and all, but I'm kind of busy here."

What happens next depends. Sometimes, I wait until Caitlin becomes distracted from her present activity and try to redirect her attention to the task at hand. Sometimes, I tell her Bella made a mess in the bathroom, nursery, or kitchen, which we must investigate immediately. Sometimes after a long day, I let Daddy take over and hide in the other room with Facebook and an U.S. Weekly. When I am really exhausted and impatient, I pick up Miss I Said No, bring her to the desired location, and enforce my supreme motherly power. This doesn't usually end well.

I suppose Caitlin's refusal to listen means she is asserting independence, expressing wants and desires, and showing self-assurance. While I hope my daughter will be independent and confident, I also hope she will be respectful and listen to others. Somehow, I must allow opportunities for her to make choices and gain independence, while also teaching her the importance of listening and doing what is asked. Until then, I must teach myself to be patient and accept "No" for an answer, at least once in a while.

Certainty

Yesterday was my sixteen week doctor's visit. Caitlin came along since my appointment immediately followed school. Dad met us at the doctor's office, armed with Goldfish crackers, an Elmo magnadoodle, and an onslaught of board books, to help entertain the Terrific Tot during my check-up. Before Dr. W began the exam, she asked, "Does Caitlin know about the b-a-b-y?"

Good question, Dr. W. Yes, we told Caitlin a new baby is coming and she will be a big sister. She points at my belly and says, "baby." Caitlin even waves to my belly and gives my belly kisses. However, she also points at Matt's belly and says, "baby." She pats, kisses, and waves at Matt's tummy. Does she truly understand there is real, live baby growing exclusively in my belly? I'm not so sure. I am not certain she is old enough to truly grasp this whole "new baby" thing. There was not a simple answer to Dr. W's question. Rather than taking up precious appointment time with stories of Caitlin's baby confusion, I simply said, "yes."

And then something wonderful happened. Dr. W began a sonogram and we all heard the new baby's heartbeat, strong and steady at 144-150 beats per minute. As we listened to the heart beating I said, "Caitlin, listen. You can hear the baby." She stopped playing and sat in momentary silence. As she listened to her new brother or sister, Caitlin smiled and said with certainty, "Baby." This time I really think she did understand what this is all about. And it was amazing.

Second Time Around

If you look carefully at Caitlin's shirt, you may notice it contains a special message. Some time toward the end of November, Caitlin will become a big sister. I am approximately sixteen weeks into my second pregnancy. With each passing day, my belly becomes larger and my regular pants become tighter, which makes me think I have many months of elastic waistbands and flowing tunics in my future.

Second pregnancies are funny: the belly announces its arrival much earlier than the first time around, making it near impossible to conceal pregnancy from co-workers. People's reactions are more nonchalant, as though this news was expected for some time. And raising a toddler commands most of my time and energy, thereby causing me to often forget I am pregnant again.

Second pregnancies also bring many questions and much apprehension. How will I prepare Caitlin to handle the role of big sister? How can I minimize any jealousy she may feel when a new baby arrives? How can I let two little ones know they are equally loved, equally special? As with anything when it comes to raising kids, I know I will make mistakes. I suppose those mistakes will allow me to learn and grow as a parent. I think we are about to embark on the greatest, but most challenging, adventure of all. Wish us luck!!

The Rules of Boo

This minute, Caitlin's favorite game is Boo, more commonly known by people with fully developed vocabularies as Hide and Seek. To play Boo with Caitlin, one must obey a particular set of rules firmly established by the Terrific Tot herself.

First, Caitlin is always the hider, never, ever the seeker. Should you attempt to hide, you may stay twisted uncomfortably behind a chair with your knees next to your ears, or trapped in a closet for the remainder of the day. Only Caitlin hides. Period.

Next, number sequence is arbitrary. When counting to ten (yes, even though she is always the hider, Caitlin still counts to ten), Caitlin's count goes something like this, "Two, three, five, nine, TEN!!!" Not bad, especially since some of my students count exactly the same way.

Third, even though Caitlin hides in the same place every time, you must always, always act as though you have absolutely no idea where she could be. Despite being in plain sight between the coffee table and the couch, you must pretend her hiding spot is extremely clever and difficult to find. Also, if Caitlin covers her eyes, that means she is invisible.

Finally, once you somehow find Caitlin's top secret, highly classified hiding spot, you must say "I found you!!!" and tickle her belly while she rolls all over the floor. The game is not over until this pivotal moment occurs.

After familiarizing yourself with this set of rules, you are ready to play Hide and Seek, I mean, Boo with Crafty Caitlin the Disappearing Toddler. Have a great time and if you need any help, ask Bella. She'll lead you to Caitlin every time.

Paradise

St. Thomas, USVI April 2011

Caitlin enjoying Morningstar Beach

During my school vacation week, our family took a trip to St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands. Our trip was exactly what this family needed-lots of time relaxing by the beach, leisurely dips in the pool, warm sunshine, afternoon naps, and plenty of frozen pina coladas. I do not remember the last time I went on a vacation and actually did nothing. It felt wonderful to completely relax, read, rest, and enjoy uninterrupted family time away from the bustle of home.

Stacking cups-don't leave home without them!

We stayed at the Marriott Frenchman's Reef and Morningstar resort, which boasts incredible views, a long, pristine beach, an outdoor glass elevator, muchos iguanas, and a pretty awesome breakfast buffet. The resort was perfect for our family-everything we needed was close by, the staff was friendly and helpful, and almost all of the restaurants were extremely kid friendly. We definitely want to go back. Like, right now.

At the swim up bar-we got a free pina colada because the bartender found Caitlin's presence amongst the drinkers so amusing.

Caitlin morphed into the ultimate beach bum in St. Thomas. Something in the Caribbean breeze made our little one let loose and kick back. She was so excited to ride the glass elevator, dig on the beach, throw sand at Mama and Daddy, drink copious amounts of apple juice, and float in the pool every afternoon. The people of St. Thomas displayed great affection for Miss C. Everywhere we went, people called Caitlin "Princess," which she seemed to love. Caitlin behaved wonderfully on the trip, which made it possible to eat at some nice restaurants, enjoy a steel drum band, and spend lots of time at the beach and pool. Just like her Mama, Caitlin loves travel and loves the beach. I see a lot of palm trees and sparkling beaches in our future.

Copycat

These days, Caitlin spends most of her days mimicking the actions of those around her. She spent about 19 months of her life quietly observing her surroundings. In the past month or so, Caitlin has moved from quietly observing to actively copying. Last Thursday night, Caitlin played with her stacking cups while taking a bath. As she repeatedly drank dirty bathwater from her green stacking cup, Caitlin began saying, "Mmmmm, coffee!" and "Hot!" After watching Mama drink a cup of coffee or two most every morning, apparently Caitlin now drinks coffee as well. I worry she will soon say, "Mmmmm, wine!" Note to self: wait until after bedtime to pour out a glass of Pinot Noir.

Caitlin also enjoys packing a purse, grabbing car keys, and heading out for work. Although Caitlin has play purses of her own, she prefers to use Mama's special Kate Spade bag. Caitlin slings the bag over her shoulder, grabs a set of car keys, asks for her coat, and heads toward the basement door calling, "Bye-bye!" When asked if she is going to work, Caitlin will grin and give an enthusiastic, "Yeah!!" as though leaving for work is really that much fun.

My little copycat is also beginning to repeat everything she hears. From time to time, Caitlin and I plug in my iPod and have dance parties in the living room. One of our favorite dance tunes is Cee Lo Green's inappropriately titled, "F*#k You." Despite the song's vulgar name, the lyrics and tune are super catchy. Since Caitlin and I only danced to this song a handful of times, I did not think much of the swear words becoming part of her vernacular. Last week as Caitlin and I drove to day care, Cee Lo's radio-edited version named "Forget You" came on the radio. As soon as the opening notes played, Caitlin sat upright in her car seat and yelled, "DUCK YOU!!!" Clearly, she meant to say something else, but her still developing articulation prevented the necessary sounds from coming out. Great. Now my daughter not only has a caffeine addiction, but also swears like a sailor. At least she likes going to work, although I don't think she observes that behavior from her Mama. I've created a copycat monster. It's time to start being a bit more careful with my behavior and my words. Somebody is watching.

The Crab

Somebody in our house is going through a major I Heart Daddy phase. How can I blame her? Daddy makes noises that sound exactly like a trombone or a car passing by. Daddy has Superman strength and can lift a little one high into the air without his arms getting too tired. Daddy's patience never wavers. He does not constantly vacuum the living room and complain about dog hair. Daddy does not need a cup of coffee to feel cheerful in the morning. I understand my little one's adoration.

But as alliances shift in our household, I cannot help but feel a little left out, a little left behind. For most of Caitlin's life, our attachment was absolute. When I left the room, she followed. When C fell down, she only called for Mama. Things are different now. Most mornings when Caitlin wakes up, the first thing she says is "Daddy!" When Daddy arrives home, Caitlin runs to the door, awaiting her hero's return. Last night, Daddy left the bathroom during bath time, which prompted sorrowful cries of "Daddy! Daddy!" until he finally came back. Sometimes I wonder if I am invisible, or a least cast in the shadows of Daddy's bright light.

As our relationships change, I remind myself that love does not mean as one bond strengthens, another weakens. Although Caitlin's heart is tiny, its capacity to love is immeasurable. I may not be the one who can swing her high enough to touch the clouds, but I am the one who hears her cries at night, almost the moment before they begin. Daddy is the joy, I am the comfort.

This seems like a satisfying ending, but there is more to the story. Last week, Caitlin and I spent time looking at the different pictures on our refrigerator. With excitement in her voice, Caitlin squealed "Daddy!" while pointing to his picture over and over again. "Where's Mama?" I asked. Finally, Caitlin called, "Mama!" I followed her pointer finger to a magnet from Newport, featuring a large, red crab saying, "Don't be crabby!" As though to confirm my disappointment, Caitlin pointed at the crab again and said, "Mama!" So much for being the comfort, maybe I am just the crab.

The Time Out

Back in November, I brought Lil' C to visit her pediatrician for her fifteen month check up. All was well-C showed off her walking skills, she played with a stethoscope, she opened wide and said, "Aaah." After making sure Caitlin's physical development was on track, Dr. P. asked about other developmental milestones-changes in sleep, how many words can she say, is she using a cup? Then, Dr. P. asked if C had thrown a tantrum. Tantrum, no? Arching her back, throwing her arms straight into the air as though performing a high dive, and nearly sliding through my secure grip? Yes. But, no tantrums-yet. Then Dr. P said, "You know, you can start doing a time out now. One minute should be plenty."

I couldn't help but giggle to myself. The only time Wiggly C remains in one spot for one minute is either when she is eating, when she is asleep, when she is strapped into her car seat, or when I give in and put on Sesame Street. The thought of her sitting in a time out for one minute seemed as far fetched as her reciting poetry. I also laughed because I could not imagine my munchkin doing something to warrant a time out. Sure, she throws toys and food and sippy cups and rips bills and breaks remote controls and hides my iPod in the travel toiletry bag, but don't all toddlers do things like that? I could not imagine her doing something intentional, something malicious, which would result in a time out.

As usual, C proved me wrong. Last Wednesday, I stayed home from work to take care of Caitlin's disgusting, barking croup. While we were having a pleasant morning diaper change, Caitlin began kicking me in the stomach over and over again. This has become an ongoing, annoying routine during diaper change time. At first, I ignored her behavior. When the kicking continued, I used my very firm don't-mess-with-me voice and told Crazy Legs to stop kicking mommy. C found this hilarious, which lead to more enthusiastic kicking. Suddenly, Dr. P's voice popped into my head and somehow magically came out of my mouth, "Caitlin this is a warning. If you kick mommy again, you will have a time out." Despite my terrifying warning, C kicked away, oblivious to the threat of solitary confinement. Suddenly, I found myself picking her up, placing her into her crib and saying, "You are in a time out for kicking mommy."

I left her room and left the door open a crack so I could spy on my litle Mia Hamm. I am not sure what I expected to observe during this time out. C crying, realizing she had done wrong? A look of guilty remorse as she stared at the door awaiting my return? A moment of quiet reflection, considering the consequences of her actions? Maybe an older child would display any one of those behaviors, but not Caitlin. As I peeked into her room, I saw C jumping up and down on her mattress, swinging her stuffed monkey. Clearly, she felt terrible about her behavior.

I went into her room after a very long minute and was met with even more exuberant mattress jumping and giggling. As I told Caitlin her time out was over, I found myself stifling a giggle or two. Just like in the pediatrician's office, I could not help but laugh at the absurdity of a little toddler time out. I know one day the time out will be a staple in our discipline diet. I am just not sure if we are there yet. For now, the time out may give me a quiet moment when I feel myself losing patience. I have to admit, however, C has not kicked my stomach since the time out. Maybe, just maybe, she did learn a little something in between crib bounces. Maybe that look of guilty remorse did pass over her face, if only for a moment. Or maybe I've gotten lucky for a couple of days. We will see what happens tomorrow.

A Little Bit of Holiday Cheer

Is the statute of limitations up for writing a post about the holidays? Since wreaths still hang on our windows and front door, since there is at least two feet of snow on the ground, and since I still have not put away all of our Christmas presents, I think the answer is no. Feliz Navidad!



Christmas was busy and snowy this year, but we had such a great time. Caitlin loved listening to The Night Before Christmas over and over again. In fact, we read the story so many times that it is now in hiding until Christmas 2011. She loved opening her presents, although the wrapping paper still held more allure than the gifts the paper concealed. And most of all, Caitlin loved the opportunity to stay up several hours past her bedtime and eat an unlimited number of sugar cookies.



Now that the holidays are done, bedtimes are back to normal, and the decorations are put away, we are enjoying quiet time at home, playing with Caitlin's many new toys. She especially loves her new toy piano, rocking horse, and baby doll.





Caitlin visited the Zoo Lights display at the Stone Zoo. She was able to walk through the zoo after dark. Even though most animals were hiding or hibernating, we did see a reindeer on hiatus from the North Pole and lots and lots of bright holiday lights and decorations.

Caitlin loved opening her stocking on Christmas morning at Grammy's house. She managed to pull out the contents by herself, then went on to play with piles of wrapping paper. In case you wondered, she also really enjoys eating her Play-Doh.

Caitlin was delighted to meet Santa Claus. After waiting in a long line, she was so excited to get her turn with jolly old St. Nick. Can't you feel the holiday cheer?

Holidays are exhausting. There is never enough time to get things done and whether we want to admit it or not, I think lots of people can't wait for the holiday season to end. A part of me feels this way, especially when I am waiting in line to get into the Pandora store, or running out to buy stamps for the third time, or checking my bank account. But, this year watching Caitlin enjoy the holidays reminded me to seek the joy of the season and believe in a little bit of the magic.

Vocabulary List

Last week I met my friend Jess for a glass of wine in front of a roaring, albeit fake, fire at West on Center. While we chatted about the new and exciting developments in our lives, our conversation naturally shifted to Caitlin and all of new and exciting developments in her life-walking backward, Caitlin's first time on a sled, Caitlin's love of Brussel sprouts. As we talked, I bragged about Caitlin's growing vocabulary. She seems to learn a new word every few days. Jess said her mother kept a list of her first words, organized by month. She asked if I wrote down Caitlin's words. Shamefully, no. Since it is a new year and a time for new beginnings, I resolve to write more, more lists, more blog posts. If I fail to document these exciting times of change for Caitlin, I know they will be forgotten. So here it is, Caitlin's first vocabulary list:

Caitlin's words-16 1/2 mos.
Mama (her first word at around 9 mos.)
Daddy/Dada
Doggy
Puppy
Bella
Ball
Papa
Cookie
Cracker
More
O.k.
No (one of her favorites)
All done
Baa (a sheep sound, that counts, right?)
Ducky,
Jackie (Matt's cousin whose name Caitlin said over and over after he joined us for Sunday dinner)
Uh Oh! (another favorite)
Bye Bye
Hi
Juice
Moo

Caitlin has used some of these words just a handful of times, but I think that counts. It's so exciting watching Caitlin learn to express what she wants and how she feels. I feel like any day now she is going to wake up and speak in sentences. The girl loves to talk! I wonder where she gets that from....