People like to tell you all the horror stories about having a baby, the sleepless nights, the crying, the spit up. But what they don’t mention is the wonderful sunrises you get to see when your baby suddenly becomes an early riser. I’ve certainly seen my fair share since the birth of my baby in February. The photo above looks out across my backyard and it is my favourite sunrise so far.
this post is a contribution from alli, an aussie lifestyle blogger over at The Girl in the PJs, and one of my sponsors. thanks for filling in for me, alli! that photo makes me miss springtime already.
dear ramona,
we first hear your soft whimpers and babbles on the video monitor around 5:00 in the morning. waiting for it to get urgent, we end up falling back asleep bc you do too. then again, you usually stir at 6:30, and by 7:00 you are fully calling for us to come get you out of your crib. we hear the thump thump thump of your pacifiers hitting the rug (i think you sleep with at least four. apparently you only care about them when flinging them to the ground for dramatic effect).
papa always is the one to go get you. he brings you up to our room and into bed and under our covers, and then the three of us snuggle while you nurse for the first time of the day. we spend the time cooing to you, giddy but still sleepy, and papa and i discuss our plans for the coming day. then, when you’ve had enough, you crawl around the bed and over our bodies, kissing first papa and then me and then otto. otto always gets lots of kisses. i realize this sounds a bit contrived, maybe saccharine. honest to goodness, this is what the first fifteen minutes of our day looks like and i wouldn’t trade it for anything.
but you, sweet sweet ramona, you are getting older, and much more independent. you devour eggs and yogurt and oatmeal for breakfast. you snack on cheddar cheese and bananas and smoothies papa whips up. you love pasta and red sauce and haven’t made up your mind about meat. unless it’s ribs, dripping from the bone. black beans are your absolute favorite. especially if they’re spicy.
and on top of eating solids like a champ (most of the time) you have discovered there is a world beyond your mama and your home and your backyard. and you love this fact. you are so ready to explore and introduce yourself and get to know the universe. when we are out walking you will seek out the nearest human or dog or ant or flower or playground slide to say hello to. fearless, you are, and sometimes i need to hold tight to your tiny little hand to protect you from dangers that are not evident to you yet (streets and cars and doors that slam shut and kids swinging on swings and dogs we don’t know).
i beam with pride at your exuberance and your confidence and your enthusiasm about the people and places and things around you. just yesterday you stomped around the playground with two older girls, not once looking back to check where i was bc you were so content to be making new friends. even when they accidentally pulled you over a high ledge and you fell, you simply got up, dusted off your hands, and toddled quickly back to grab their outstretched hands.
but what this means, ramona, (and this is something that will hold little significance to you until you are a mama one day) is that our relationship is changing. undoubtedly it’s for the better–and it’s natural and neccesary–but it is a little tough on me, your mama, right now. for nearly fourteen and a half months you and i have shared a special connection: since you were born you have nursed. and this was a constant i could count on (we both could count on). you needed me and i loved giving you the nourishment and “home base” you needed. it was a time for us to sit down, take a time-out from whatever was going on, and fill-up: you with milk and me with good hormones and a tangible reminder of who we are to each other.
but you are nursing less and less. once in the morning (my favorite nurse of the day with you), perhaps for a very short bit once, maybe twice, during the course of the day, and then right before bed. besides our morning time together, i don’t even think you are receiving much, if any, milk. and though it is a sweet time with you, i know this means it’s time to start weaning you (and myself) and to continue to move towards encouraging you to be the independent young girl you are becoming. the morning nurse/snuggle, will probably be the last to go. and i imagine that day, that morning–when you come upstairs and do not shriek with anticipation about your first nurse; when you go straight to morning kisses and being all roly-poly all over the bed instead of searching gleefully and frantically under my top–that morning will be so so so bittersweet for me. you are my daughter, my love. but foremost you are your own person and i must respect the changes in your development, in your needs, in your personality, and in your preferences. and while it is difficult for me to have this part of being-ramona’s-mama ending, i am so excited to see what else our mother-daughter bond has in store down the road.
i love you, my minka, my beanie bop, my mo and my moo. you are really the best.
love, mama.
see some other letters to ramona: about love, about style, about fun, about family, about communication.
photo by Tessa Richardson
aahhhh, mondays. these are my intentional stay-at-home-and-do-absolutely-nothing days. the powerdriver family usually has lots going on over the weekend and max is transitioning back to spending his days with us (for the record: i have one baby but nanny another one during the work week). so i make sure monday is reserved for catching up on sleep (naptimes are often missed over the weekend) and getting the three of us back on the same page and in the same groove. i stay in my pajamas and rarely do my hair. we do not leave the front gate. today, for example, except for playing with the water table, we have not left the living room. it’s been spectacular.
our typical stay-at-home-and-chill-out schedule
- 6:45 ramona starts stirring. jp and i keep sleeping
- 7:15 jp gets ramona and brings her back to bed. i nurse her while jp and i chat about the upcoming day’s plans
- 7:30 it’s up an at ’em. jp is making breakfast and getting ready to milk the goat. i’m dressing mo and making myself somewhat presentable (“somewhat” being a loosely used term around these parts)
- 7:45 the three of us are usually eating breakfast and drinking coffee (mo doesn’t drink coffee but she tries to) when max is dropped off.
- 8:00 max and mo toddle around the first floor and front yard playing with toys and bringing me books and saying hello to each other
- 8:20 i feed max and mo breakfast
- 8:40 change diapers!
- 9:00 by this time both babes are in bed.
- 9:00 until whenever they wake up i catch up on various interweb things, clean whatever’s on my daily cleaning schedule, return emails, change the goats’ water, feed the chickens, tweet and pin, and package up any etsy sales and/or make any needed updates to the store. this is, hands down, my most productive time of the day.
- 11:00(ish) the kids are awake and we eat a snack (or sometimes it’s lunch) and then let them get some post-nap wiggles out. we read books, play with a very obnoxious tractor, and practice our animal sounds. we do this some more. we might head out to the water table, or go give scraps to the animals, or hop in the pool in the backyard, or climb through the vinyl tunnel, or ride the scramble bug, or climb the rocks. we just play play play. sometimes i’ll do something a little more structured but not always. it’s lots of just hanging out with them. snacks are involved. and getting them to do tricks for me (animal noises, responding to questions, pointing to body parts, generally showing off how smart they are 😉 ).
- 2:00 second nap. ramona usually will take hers. this is becoming just some quiet time for max as he doesn’t always fall asleep but will babble happily in his crib. i do, i don’t know what i do. write blog posts like i’m doing now. check google reader (again!). wash dishes. sit on my arse.
- 3:45 they’re usually both up by now and it’s time for max to be picked up! again, we’re playing in the living room. it is low-key, for reals. i know, you can barely contain your excitement for my mondays.
i should point out this monday looked absolutely nothing like what you see above. max still has not slept one wink (it’s 3:00) and ramona was a little grouch butt who only slept for one hour for her first nap and still, like her mother, has not gotten proper clothes on today. also, oddly enough, the schedule we seem to follow now seems weirdly similar and low-key to what was going on october when i first started looking after max and when the babes were much younger. except we go far fewer places as i am a slave to nap time (and you will be too once your child gets on some sort of cycle or schedule!).
what does your typical monday look like? any different than your other weekdays?
as i’ve become more and more comfortable with being away from ramona and having other people besides jp watch her, i have come to realize something quite significant about her personality. little miss ramona bean — my social, charismatic, and engaging child — is an introvert.
i started to notice this when we began to put stuffed animals in her crib. there’s a giraffe and a little doll (i’ve named it beatrice, or bea bea) that sleep with her. when she goes to sleep, she puts her arm around bea bea and falls asleep. and when she wakes up, she sits there and babbles to the both of them. on the days where i get her immediately upon waking up from her nap, i have a grumpy monster on my hands. when i give her time to sit there quietly with the dolls and talk with them and giggle, i find she is much happier and rested after she has had that alone time (not just the sleeping time).
so, from this first observation, i learned to let her be until she called for me after a nap. and then another thing started happening: as i mentioned before, we’ve been leaving her with other people for periods of time at least once a week. being away from her for more than two hours, and not just after bedtime, is relatively new to us. it became apparent that when she was dropped off or we picked her up or got home from being away this girl 1) cuddles like never before. she just sits quietly in my lap and soaks in “home base.” and 2) shows signs of desperately needing a nap (even if she just may have had one while we weren’t there). so i put her down in her crib and she sits there and talks with her dolls for a good half hour. this is her requested alone time. and then, when she’s had enough, she calls for me and is ready to interact again.
it’s precious, really. somehow, this one year old knows nothing of the annoying distinctions we (including myself!) try to label and project onto people to try and figure them out (introvert/extrovert. personality types, etc) but she does know that she needs alone time. and all i can do is make sure i’m reading her cues and allowing her the space and volume and interaction levels she needs (or doesn’t!).
this is not bea bea. this is the doll my mother made for ramona for her first birthday. ramona’s very first doll made just for her. it hasn’t been named yet and it’s about as tall as ramona so it’s pretty wonderful to see her try and lug it around. she’ll grow into it. 😉
what have you learned recently about your little one?
to continue yesterday’s topic of ways to keep babies cool in the summertime (if you aren’t blessed/privileged/lucky enough to have AC), here’s another thing i do with the kiddos to make the heat a little more bearable. after sunscreening them up we go out to the front yard where i have an old mid-century modern teak planter. i had high hopes of a little succulent garden in this thing but i have no green thumb. so it stood on the porch and faded terribly. until jp told me i should fill it with water and let the babes splash around. have i told you my hubby is a genius?
so we turn the hose on, fill the water table up, put toys in the water table, and let the kids get soaked. everyone is happy.
i advise, if possible, putting hats on your little one(s) to protect their adorable faces from the sun. i know what you’re thinking: max and ramona don’t have hats on. i know. i can’t. these little ones won’t let me. but i still advise it.
welcome
