sleeping in

Yesterday, Ally slept in until 7:30. I was at work and Rob was at home anxiously waiting for her to wake to complete the morning routine and go to his own office. I had a slight sinking feeling when I spoke with him on the phone that morning. You see, we tend to only get a morning like that once every few weeks. And to know that it happened on a day when we were both out of bed before 5 feels like a terrible, terrible waste. I anticipated an early Saturday morning.

When Ally woke today at 5:30 I stumbled into her bedroom, laid her back down, and said “go to sleep.” But this wasn’t the kind of early wake up that leads to playing in her crib, but rather the kind with lots of crying for pacifiers that have been thrown from the crib or for lost stuffed animals.  As the volume increased, Rob took pity on me and got out of bed to begin the day.  Wonderful Rob!  When I ventured out of the bedroom at 7, Ally was a sight.  A blue sight.  “She dressed herself,” Rob said.

Later in the morning as I prepared to take Ally out to the store with me, I tried to sneak her into an alternative outfit.  She had a bit of a fit, so out we went as-is.  I’ve heard of some kind of button you can have your children wear that says, “I dressed myself today!” Genius.

the goods

Just a quick post to say that we had our 20-week ultrasound today (I know, I’m only 18 weeks along. Call us eager.) and all is well with the peanut. The radiology center had a 4D ultrasound machine so we were able to get some great pictures this time around of our little… baby… GIRL!

we saw, we towered, we learned

After almost two weeks of waiting, our learning tower arrived yesterday. I was so excited to see the box that I assembled it with Ally’s “help,” with only two moments of squealing “no Ally!” as she investigated the pieces. Let me first say– this thing has a weight limit of 500 pounds. I don’t know who, or how, or why such a tower would be used for that kind of weight (painting projects with multiple adults? jabba the hut helps you cook?), but the limit underscores the sturdiness that has impressed us both. It is strong and well-made and even attractive. Ally quickly learned how to climb in and out of the tower onto the platform, which raises and lowers based on your child’s height, and it places her at a height that is just right for kitchen counters and the sink. It is, in a word, perfect.

Today we prepared some salad together to have with lunch. She was at the sink helping me wash lettuce and tomatoes. I asked her to take the stems off the tomatoes, wash them and put them in the salad spinner, and she did every step, and I was so stunned and awestruck that I had one of those peaceful zen Mom moments where everything feels so right and, briefly, I thought that maybe I’m not so bad at this Mom thing, or at least I have my lapses of success. It might be the learning tower, it might be a mood swing in a positive direction, but goodness knows we’re going to be spending a lot of time in the kitchen together in the future.

And no, that’s not a Dunkin Donuts box in the background.  And of course Ally didn’t have any, particularly any with sprinkles.  And even if we had donuts I’m certain they would not have contributed to my general feeling of satisfaction and well being today.

kitchen helper

Beginning when she was around 15 months old and continuing until she was nearly two, Ally cooked meals with me while riding on my hip. Somehow cooking with Mommy trumped attempts to distract her with alternative activities or even the lure of television. And sometimes that was great– like seeing that she could identify and name a bottle of olive oil at 18 months– and other times it was downright scary, like when she would reach for hot pots or a knife. In the past few months as she has become heavier and more independent, she has asked to sit on the counter, which is even more dangerous. So I was thrilled when she began asking to stand on a step stool at the kitchen counter so she could help cook or play in the sink.
But as Ally will tell you, when she stands on the step stool it “makes Daddy nervous.” And it makes me nervous, too. So now we’re waiting for the UPS man to bring a special kitchen step stool that is supposed to be safer for kids. I can’t wait. Cooking together can be great fun. She can crack eggs (well she cracks them, I break them open), add ingredients to a bowl, wash vegetables, and stir quite well. And I think that she is sometimes more apt to try food she helps cook.

Tonight we made together a pasta dish I could only describe as summer in a bowl.  Rob surprised me on Friday with an entire cooler filled with tomatoes from his cousin’s garden that are some of the most delicious tomatoes I have ever tasted– which is good, because we have enough to keep me busy eating for a week!  Ally helped to wash the tomatoes, “cut” them with her play knife, stirred everything together, and added the salt and olive oil to the sauce.  Best of all, when we sat down to eat she said, “Mommy, you made delicious noodles!  Good job!” and she clapped.  Well sheesh.

Forgive the poor food-picture-taking skills.  But really, if you have some fresh tomatoes, this was the most wonderful, fast dish!

catch up

While browsing recent photos today, I realized that I completely forgot to write about our recent trip to visit Mark, Emily, and Efram in New Jersey. Sheesh! Perhaps I was distracted after our return by the release of a certain book? Given that this trip was pretty much our summer vacation, we packed a whole lot of excitement into a couple days. And a lot of cake. If you ever happen to be visiting the Trenton area you must stop at Cairo Cakes.

The highlight of the trip was a visit to the extraordinary Philadelphia zoo. Ally and Efram seemed beside themselves with the animals and Ally kept saying, “keep going, see more animals!” because there was always something amazing a little farther down the path. That said, they were really excited to see ducks and geese. Because you never see those. What a big smile from Efram!

Ally as carrot

Smitten!

serenity now

In a couple short weeks, Rob and I have decided to begin weaning Ally from her pacifier. The method we’re going to try involves snipping first the tip of the pacifier off, and then gradually more and more of the pacifier until nothing is left. We hear this method tends to be successful, and I think will go better than trying to reason with a two-year-old.

Tonight at bedtime she immediately ran for the drawer containing her two last pacifiers, happily saying “I want my P’s!” I wanted to wait until after her bath to get them out, so a battle of wills began that ended with the following exchange:

Me: Ally, big girls don’t use pacifiers! You are a big girl!

Ally: I’m not a big girl! I’m a boy!

See what I mean about reason? So the snipping will begin very soon.

crave

Can you spot in this picture the proof that Beth is pregnant?

I would guess that Rob’s stomach begins to rumble the moment he hears me say, “you know what sounds good?” Because the question’s response tends to be something quite delicious and most un-Beth-like, like buffalo wings, or chocolate cheesecake, or even a cheese steak, which I don’t even eat. Today he was quite happy to enjoy my craving for Popeye’s red beans and rice (though of course he had a sandwich). Other recent cravings? Chicken salad, peaches, enchiladas, cucumbers, pudding.

Now a few weeks into the second trimester, I’m feeling great. The nausea and relentless hunger of the first few months have dissipated and there are times when I forget we have a second baby on the way, until of course I look down at my stomach or realize I’m crying for absolutely no good reason. Hello, mood swings. I hope all the good food for Rob makes up for those. Sorry, honey.

The ultrasound where we hope to learn the baby’s sex is in two weeks. We can’t wait to get a closer look at the tumbly bean.

time goes by

Every six months I have a new picture of Ally with her youngest cousins, and each time they all look so much older and, I have to say, they are so much more fun!  At this visit, they all swam together in our community pool.  I was stunned to see how much better they all have become at swimming, and Ally finally ventured into the big pool and tried bouncing on a noodle.  Supervision?  Hah.  “I want to do it all by myself, Mommy.”

getting the wiggles out

A theme of this blog is the many ways Rob and I were unprepared, baffled, and at times blindsided by life with a child.  Neither of us had much experience with young children before Ally’s birth.  Short visits with our younger nieces and nephew or with friends’ children were brief enough that we could explain away challenging behaviors– oh, they’re acting that way because we’re visiting! because it’s a holiday! And frankly behavior a parent may consider frustrating can be, to a visitor, quite adorable. Perhaps that is why, at a moment that revealed to many family members Ally’s current mealtime eccentricities, I broke into tears with laughter while trying to explain just what she means by “scrape the sides, Mommy.”  Because for that moment I saw the charming quirkiness rather than the annoyance of, yet again, being asked to push all of her food into a pile so she could scoop properly with her spoon and fingers.

So here’s five things that make mealtime fun with Ally these days, in the effort to make them cute and charming in the public sphere.   Because at home? Not so fun.

1. The first five minutes of every meal is spent negotiating whether the food is too hot or not.  And blowing on it.  And trying her portion and saying “mmm! Just right!”
2. Ally insists that her food be provided in BIG pieces.  She’s getting better at taking bites, but sometimes she pushes the entire portion in her mouth, gags, then sort of retches it back at you.  But cut the pieces smaller? Then she won’t eat it at all.
3. Condiments are best eaten by the spoonful.  Especially ketchup and guacamole– a meal in itself!
4. There was a time when I thought that mealtimes would, over time, become less messy.  A linear progression, if you will, eventually leading to the possibility of a table cloth or at least a meal that didn’t require a roll of paper towels at its conclusion.  I am learning that the graph would perhaps better resemble a sine wave, because meals these days are even messier than when she was a baby, and as a parent it is more frustrating because she knows better than to smear the barbecue sauce in her eyes.
5. For a long time the end of meal time almost always led to a time out, either because she threw her food or because she would hit us while we tried to wipe her down.  We have learned to take her food away the moment she starts to play with it to prevent throwing, but for a long time we didn’t know how to prevent the hitting, and time outs have not been an effective deterrent.  Then I decided to try to pull her away from the table and say, “Ally! Let’s get the wiggles out!” So at the end of meal time these days, everyone shakes their arms like crazy and when she’s done, she lets us clean her up.  Granted, more food goes flying. But no hitting.

Ally here

Hi, Ally here. Everything has been a bit weird lately. Mommy keeps turning green every time we play ring-around-the-rosie, and Daddy gets upset when I play my new kick-the-belly game with Mommy during diaper changes. Then they keep making me wear this t-shirt to family events and then people laugh and hug a lot. Well, whatever.