So now that the sun is shining and the wind's not tearing through, we spend a whole lot of time like this:
3/16/12
new setting
This weather? It's amazing, in the truest definition of the word. I want to EAT these days, they're so incredible.
So now that the sun is shining and the wind's not tearing through, we spend a whole lot of time like this:
It's pretty awesome. We're also tracking a whole lot of dirt into the house. Ah well. Some messes are just worth it.
So now that the sun is shining and the wind's not tearing through, we spend a whole lot of time like this:
3/15/12
clarification
Dear Quinn,
Believe me when I tell you that I couldn't be happier that you are finally finding Delia to be good company. The other night when you two were shrieking with laughter for the first hour of bedtime? I smiled all the way through it. When Deels drops a toy and you fetch it for her and offer it back saying sweetly, "Here you go, Dee Dee!" my heart swells with pride.
But let's be clear. When Mama puts you down for naps in the afternoon--you in your bed and Delia in the crib in Mom and Dad's room--you are NOT to wait for Mama to start the shower, then crawl out of bed, open your door, then her door, then TURN ON THE LIGHTS, and THROW CLOTHES into her crib, and CHUCK HER NUKS onto our tall dresser. Not ever again. Thank you.
Love you,
Mama
Believe me when I tell you that I couldn't be happier that you are finally finding Delia to be good company. The other night when you two were shrieking with laughter for the first hour of bedtime? I smiled all the way through it. When Deels drops a toy and you fetch it for her and offer it back saying sweetly, "Here you go, Dee Dee!" my heart swells with pride.
But let's be clear. When Mama puts you down for naps in the afternoon--you in your bed and Delia in the crib in Mom and Dad's room--you are NOT to wait for Mama to start the shower, then crawl out of bed, open your door, then her door, then TURN ON THE LIGHTS, and THROW CLOTHES into her crib, and CHUCK HER NUKS onto our tall dresser. Not ever again. Thank you.
Love you,
Mama
 |
| Hungry partners in crime. |
3/13/12
spring
I'm generally an easy-to-please type of girl, but believe it or not, spring has never been my favorite. Yes, I embrace that first day where the wind is more a gentle whisper than a sharp blow against my cheek, and of course I'm happy to say goodbye to months of snow and ice (though this wasn't really relevant this year). But still, spring to me is muddy, a little stinky and always messy.
People talk of spring and liken it to fresh beginnings. Spring cleaning. Spring training. Other spring things. They all hearken of a time to start over, and to do things the way you really want them done, this time. Again, these weren't sentiments that I really alligned with. Until this year.
Ever since Delia turned 1, things have gotten SO. MUCH. EASIER. I look back at that first year, and though there are so many moments I hold dear, above all, I feel a sense of how I nearly lost my mind, and how it would take more than all my fingers and all my toes to count the number of days I didn't know if I would survive to see the end. There were constant "one step forward, two steps back" moments, and it was hard. A lot of it had to do with how difficult of a time Quinn had adapting to baby sister. Delia was decidedly an "easy" baby, but her sleep issues and the last couple months of fickle eating ... well, those things take their toll.
And then Spring came. Yes, I'm capitalizing it, now. We spent a good chunk of this gorgeous weekend outside, coming in with hair that smelled of sun, and sweet rosy cheeks. Quinn ran outside from this to that to the other, marveling over his freedom in our backyard. Delia happily sat in the swing, smiling as her eyes chased Quinn around and around. Dave and I sat on the wooden bench swing, and were able to take in our children from a distance. Quinn showed us that he requires so much less hand-holding than he did even last fall.
When we started going to the park last spring, we were still counting Delia's age in weeks. I would schedule our walks to coincide with her naps so she could sleep while I helped Quinn up the steps and down the slides. She was at the park often, but saw the park rarely. She participated in the park even less. Again, this year is proving to be a change. Quinn runs up the playground steps, maneuvers all the equipment and chooses any one of the three slides. He is bold and brave and adventurous, but still just careful enough to give me relief. Delia is again pleased to be plopped into the swing, but when the ground dries and she starts walking, she'll be soon toddling around, herself.
You guys? This Spring ... it's going to be doable. I'm moving out of survival mode. I'm moving into enjoyment mode. I had no idea what I was missing.
Happy Spring!
People talk of spring and liken it to fresh beginnings. Spring cleaning. Spring training. Other spring things. They all hearken of a time to start over, and to do things the way you really want them done, this time. Again, these weren't sentiments that I really alligned with. Until this year.
Ever since Delia turned 1, things have gotten SO. MUCH. EASIER. I look back at that first year, and though there are so many moments I hold dear, above all, I feel a sense of how I nearly lost my mind, and how it would take more than all my fingers and all my toes to count the number of days I didn't know if I would survive to see the end. There were constant "one step forward, two steps back" moments, and it was hard. A lot of it had to do with how difficult of a time Quinn had adapting to baby sister. Delia was decidedly an "easy" baby, but her sleep issues and the last couple months of fickle eating ... well, those things take their toll.
And then Spring came. Yes, I'm capitalizing it, now. We spent a good chunk of this gorgeous weekend outside, coming in with hair that smelled of sun, and sweet rosy cheeks. Quinn ran outside from this to that to the other, marveling over his freedom in our backyard. Delia happily sat in the swing, smiling as her eyes chased Quinn around and around. Dave and I sat on the wooden bench swing, and were able to take in our children from a distance. Quinn showed us that he requires so much less hand-holding than he did even last fall.
When we started going to the park last spring, we were still counting Delia's age in weeks. I would schedule our walks to coincide with her naps so she could sleep while I helped Quinn up the steps and down the slides. She was at the park often, but saw the park rarely. She participated in the park even less. Again, this year is proving to be a change. Quinn runs up the playground steps, maneuvers all the equipment and chooses any one of the three slides. He is bold and brave and adventurous, but still just careful enough to give me relief. Delia is again pleased to be plopped into the swing, but when the ground dries and she starts walking, she'll be soon toddling around, herself.
You guys? This Spring ... it's going to be doable. I'm moving out of survival mode. I'm moving into enjoyment mode. I had no idea what I was missing.
Happy Spring!
3/12/12
thank you, grandma
Over Christmas, Dave's mom always ships us a big box filled with her incredible array of Christmas cookies. It is borderline obscene, the amount and variety of cookies this woman makes for the holidays. Don't get me wrong; I am NOT complaining. Are you kidding me? I'm a lucky benefactor. I just wanted to set the scene.
This year, Quinn got especially taken with a certain minty variety. He would sweetly ask for one after each meal. Green Grandma Cookies, were his name for them. And then, as all good things are wont to do, we ran out.
Enter Grandma to the rescue.
She found an extra bag of the goodies hiding in her freezer, and like a very, very good grandma, indeed, she brought them with her when she was out for Dee's birthday. Quinn is in heaven.
Last night, after he finished his meal, he so emphatically and pathetically asked for a Green Grandma Cookie that I had to get out the camera. So yeah, he's coached a little in this take, but it was 100% him just moments before.
NOTE: I especially like his politician thank-you at 1:00. Lord help us, I hope it's not a view into his future career.
Thanks, Grandma, for the delicious treat that makes the sir's day! Love you!
This year, Quinn got especially taken with a certain minty variety. He would sweetly ask for one after each meal. Green Grandma Cookies, were his name for them. And then, as all good things are wont to do, we ran out.
Enter Grandma to the rescue.
She found an extra bag of the goodies hiding in her freezer, and like a very, very good grandma, indeed, she brought them with her when she was out for Dee's birthday. Quinn is in heaven.
Last night, after he finished his meal, he so emphatically and pathetically asked for a Green Grandma Cookie that I had to get out the camera. So yeah, he's coached a little in this take, but it was 100% him just moments before.
NOTE: I especially like his politician thank-you at 1:00. Lord help us, I hope it's not a view into his future career.
Thanks, Grandma, for the delicious treat that makes the sir's day! Love you!
3/9/12
secret admirer
Yesterday, Miss Delia received a package in the mail. It was a sweet, adorable, and fun board book, The Hat. She loved it immediately.
But it would appear to have come from a secret admirer. The packaging was labeled "Amazon" and there was no note inside. We want to wholeheartedly thank the kind person who gave her this, but we aren't sure where to start! Anyone want to fess up to this sweetness? I have a little girl who wants to say thanks.
But it would appear to have come from a secret admirer. The packaging was labeled "Amazon" and there was no note inside. We want to wholeheartedly thank the kind person who gave her this, but we aren't sure where to start! Anyone want to fess up to this sweetness? I have a little girl who wants to say thanks.
3/8/12
uvh-oooh
Just thought it worth mentioning that Delia has expanded her vocabulary. Last night at the dinner table, she looked dotingly at Daddy, and then plain as day said: "Uvh-ooh." It could not have been more obvious that she was telling him she loved him.
This morning, she said it to me, too, just before she threw her head down onto my chest and patted both of my shoulders vivaciously with her sweet, chubby little hands. And when I asked for a kiss, she opened wide, and plunked her drooly, wide mouth over my cheek.
You guys, it is a miracle that I haven't yet eaten her up.
This morning, she said it to me, too, just before she threw her head down onto my chest and patted both of my shoulders vivaciously with her sweet, chubby little hands. And when I asked for a kiss, she opened wide, and plunked her drooly, wide mouth over my cheek.
You guys, it is a miracle that I haven't yet eaten her up.
3/7/12
day: made
As I've mentioned numerous times before, Quinn has an obsession with tractors. I don't even know if that word gives his condition its proper merit. He thinks, eats and breathes these things. He talks about them day in and day out. It's recently occurred to me he doesn't even realize that the library offers books that aren't about tractors. Tractors have carved a deep, trench-like groove in his brain, to be sure.
So the other day, when Papa handed Quinn a tractor catalog (you know, like the ones farmers reference), Dude nearly lost his mind.
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He literally yelped "OHHH!" every. single. time. he turned a page of that catalog. That was a few weeks ago. He's still flipping through it on a daily basis, and begs us to read it to him. Sometimes we do. It goes a lot like this: "Green tractor, other green tractor, another green tractor, ... ahhh, what is that one? Oh! Baler! Red tractor, big tires, ..."
So the other day, when Papa handed Quinn a tractor catalog (you know, like the ones farmers reference), Dude nearly lost his mind.
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He literally yelped "OHHH!" every. single. time. he turned a page of that catalog. That was a few weeks ago. He's still flipping through it on a daily basis, and begs us to read it to him. Sometimes we do. It goes a lot like this: "Green tractor, other green tractor, another green tractor, ... ahhh, what is that one? Oh! Baler! Red tractor, big tires, ..."
3/5/12
what the dude's been up to
Sometimes I realize I'm taking Quinn's 2-year-oldisms for granted. Then, on nights like we had this Saturday when we shared our kids with the wonderful company of good friends (Amy and Adrian--there are some NOISY dog toys coming your way ... in my mind), I remember that his kind of goofy? Well, it's not to be taken for granted.
When we told Quinn that we'd be having friends join us for dinner, I asked him to start practicing saying their names. He would not. Instead, he referred to them simply as "those funny guys" for the rest of the night. They are funny, granted, but I still thought "Amy" and "Adrian" might be nice.
Lately, when he's finished resting/using the bathroom/eating/getting stuck in the exersaucer, he repeatedly yells out: "HE'S ALL DONE, MAMA. HE'S ALL DONE, MAMA. HE'S ALL DONE, MAMA." The kid doesn't even take a breath. He will repeat it as often as necessary until someone comes to his rescue. This is sometimes an hour long (in his "resting" scenarios, this is sometimes the full extent of his rest. Standing in bed, shouting this out.). I love that he refers to himself not as "me," "I," or even "Quinn," but instead: "he."
The dude hasn't been eating very well as of late, and he knows he only gets a cookie when he does a good job with his meal. I've noticed that this has translated to him asking for milk in a specified cup instead of asking for a cookie. So now, when he's done eating, instead of hearing "How 'bout aaaaaaaa .... COOKIE?" he says "How 'bout .... milk in green cup!?" or "milk is tractor cup!?" or "milk in monkey cup?!"
We went through a very rough phase of his treatment to Delia. So rough that it got to the point where I was wondering if I needed to bring him to counseling. He was hurting her and not seeming to mind in the least. It was so difficult for me to see, and as he never quite warmed up to the little lady, it was beyond frustrating that 365 days after her appearance in our house (not to mention the 10 months she was in my belly), he was still having a hard time with her. Finally, I started talking about his actions to other people in front of him, emphasizing how awful it was to see, and how it hurt Delia and how I knew he was a sweeter boy than to behave in those ways. Dave and I talked to him about it over and over during our dinnertimes, and finally we decided that the next time he hurt her, we would take away his beloved Blankie Caw.
That was it, folks. I saw some toddler form of repentance on his face, and it's been a week-plus without any major sisterly trauma. We have a tunnel for crawling through in our basement, and last week it became known as the Tunnel of Love, for how sweetly they played together, together, inside of it. I've noticed him walking more carefully around her, reaching out for her soft head to protect her from his hurried ways. He smiles at her without our prompting him, and FINALLY stopped screaming every time she comes into his view.
I'm sure there are many reading this with their jaws dropped wondering at how a 2-year-old could have held such a grudge against a baby for so long. He was a mere 16 months old when she was born, so I don't think anyone could have predicted it would take this long for him to accept the new normal. But folks? A year later I think we're there. Thank the good Lord, because I wasn't sure how much more I could take.
But I hate to leave this post on that note, and so I'll add that this guy's memory is starting to freak me out. He remembers absolutely everything. He remembers a beard from 10 months ago; he remembers a toy from last summer; he remembers words to books that we haven't read in ages. And when Dave and I talk during dinner, he picks up on every word that's said, and then repeats whole phrases as best he can. It's awesome to hear "It's just so hectic right now" coming out of a 2-year-old's mouth.
To sum it all up, this boy is bringing us more joy by the day. The "terrible" part of his 2s seems to have faded, and perhaps living through that phase is making this new attitude all the more sweet for us.
He is such a silly, smart, sweet boy. We're so lucky to call him ours.
When we told Quinn that we'd be having friends join us for dinner, I asked him to start practicing saying their names. He would not. Instead, he referred to them simply as "those funny guys" for the rest of the night. They are funny, granted, but I still thought "Amy" and "Adrian" might be nice.
Lately, when he's finished resting/using the bathroom/eating/getting stuck in the exersaucer, he repeatedly yells out: "HE'S ALL DONE, MAMA. HE'S ALL DONE, MAMA. HE'S ALL DONE, MAMA." The kid doesn't even take a breath. He will repeat it as often as necessary until someone comes to his rescue. This is sometimes an hour long (in his "resting" scenarios, this is sometimes the full extent of his rest. Standing in bed, shouting this out.). I love that he refers to himself not as "me," "I," or even "Quinn," but instead: "he."
The dude hasn't been eating very well as of late, and he knows he only gets a cookie when he does a good job with his meal. I've noticed that this has translated to him asking for milk in a specified cup instead of asking for a cookie. So now, when he's done eating, instead of hearing "How 'bout aaaaaaaa .... COOKIE?" he says "How 'bout .... milk in green cup!?" or "milk is tractor cup!?" or "milk in monkey cup?!"
We went through a very rough phase of his treatment to Delia. So rough that it got to the point where I was wondering if I needed to bring him to counseling. He was hurting her and not seeming to mind in the least. It was so difficult for me to see, and as he never quite warmed up to the little lady, it was beyond frustrating that 365 days after her appearance in our house (not to mention the 10 months she was in my belly), he was still having a hard time with her. Finally, I started talking about his actions to other people in front of him, emphasizing how awful it was to see, and how it hurt Delia and how I knew he was a sweeter boy than to behave in those ways. Dave and I talked to him about it over and over during our dinnertimes, and finally we decided that the next time he hurt her, we would take away his beloved Blankie Caw.
That was it, folks. I saw some toddler form of repentance on his face, and it's been a week-plus without any major sisterly trauma. We have a tunnel for crawling through in our basement, and last week it became known as the Tunnel of Love, for how sweetly they played together, together, inside of it. I've noticed him walking more carefully around her, reaching out for her soft head to protect her from his hurried ways. He smiles at her without our prompting him, and FINALLY stopped screaming every time she comes into his view.
I'm sure there are many reading this with their jaws dropped wondering at how a 2-year-old could have held such a grudge against a baby for so long. He was a mere 16 months old when she was born, so I don't think anyone could have predicted it would take this long for him to accept the new normal. But folks? A year later I think we're there. Thank the good Lord, because I wasn't sure how much more I could take.
But I hate to leave this post on that note, and so I'll add that this guy's memory is starting to freak me out. He remembers absolutely everything. He remembers a beard from 10 months ago; he remembers a toy from last summer; he remembers words to books that we haven't read in ages. And when Dave and I talk during dinner, he picks up on every word that's said, and then repeats whole phrases as best he can. It's awesome to hear "It's just so hectic right now" coming out of a 2-year-old's mouth.
To sum it all up, this boy is bringing us more joy by the day. The "terrible" part of his 2s seems to have faded, and perhaps living through that phase is making this new attitude all the more sweet for us.
He is such a silly, smart, sweet boy. We're so lucky to call him ours.
 |
| Checking out the sales with Grandpa. One of his very favorite guys in all the world. |
3/2/12
ity bity
Delia had her one-year check-up this week. You've heard me talk about how much this girl can put down at the dinner table, so I never thought her weight would be something to think twice about. But then they weighed her, plopped her weight on the growth chart, and announced that she is in the 6th percentile. Yes, 6TH. The doctor didn't bat an eye over this news, so I'm not stressing over it either, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm shocked at what a little bean our lady is. Here are the rest of her stats:
- Weight: 18 lbs. (6th percentile)
- Height: 29.25 in. (54th percentile)
- Head: 17.5 in. (32nd percentile)
I compared these to Quinn's one-year measurements and my mouth hung open when I saw that he was 22 lbs. and 32 inches. And we always thought he was a bean! Delia for the win, folks.
3/1/12
grandma time
Both of my parents' (giant) families live about 1 1/2 hours north of us. That's not terribly far, but regardless, we don't get up there very often. When my cousin Annee was home, we decided we would make a trip up to spend time with Grandma and ask her to teach us how to make the colored embroidery projects she does. Like this one:
(Actually, this one was a team effort with Grandma and my aunt Sheila. Beautiful, no?)
Annee done left for Hawaii, but Mom gladly took her spot, so last week we packed up the kiddos and headed north. What a wonderful trip we had! We had lunch and caught up, and then it was to work with us. Grandma got me started on a cute Little Bo Peep piece and taught me how to embroider. I thought I knew how to embroider (I've done a fair amount of it) but it turns out I was literally stitching backwards. The "new" method is so much easier, neater, and more efficient! Good grief. Thank the Lord for Grandmas. I especially like mine:
While we colored and stitched, Quinn made a new best friend in Uncle Frankie. Frank got out his blue tractor that he played with when he was a kid, and Quinn went to tractor heaven. He's STILL talking about it, a week later!
I'm hoping to make these visits more frequent, and that's putting some pepper in my motivation to finish Bo Peep so I can get Grandma's approval. That will require a little shopping, first, because I'm pretty limited in my embroidery floss at the moment. Hopefully it won't be long, though, and I can start working on some other projects! I have a couple in mind, but want to perfect my stitching before getting too far. I spent the first 15 minutes accidentally back-stitching, for crying out loud. I have some work to do.
Annee done left for Hawaii, but Mom gladly took her spot, so last week we packed up the kiddos and headed north. What a wonderful trip we had! We had lunch and caught up, and then it was to work with us. Grandma got me started on a cute Little Bo Peep piece and taught me how to embroider. I thought I knew how to embroider (I've done a fair amount of it) but it turns out I was literally stitching backwards. The "new" method is so much easier, neater, and more efficient! Good grief. Thank the Lord for Grandmas. I especially like mine:
2/28/12
first birthday party
This weekend, we celebrated Delia's first birthday with a little party. And by "little," I meant that I mailed out five invitations (to our parents and three of our siblings), and 25 people said "HECK YES, WE'RE COMING!" And that's when I knew it was going to be a real party.
In our little family, we've decided to only have parties for the first birthday, and then see what requests come after our kids are old enough to have an opinion on the subject. Because of this, I really wanted the day to look the way I saw it in my mind. We hung streamers, floated balloons, and draped long photo garland below a perfect letter A.
Did you know that Lunds/Byerlies offers a free, yes, FREE, first birthday cake? I'm so glad someone told me. We took advantage of that offer, and added a special cupcake for the girl of the hour and a platter of gorgeous, vibrant, flower spritz cookies by Dave's mom. (Why, WHY do I not have a photo of that??? I didn't stop talking about those cookies all weekend long! Someone please send me a picture.)
At 4, the guests started to arrive, and we hung around, catching up. Grandma and Grandpa Bromeland, Auntie Sue, Uncle Justin, Josie, Scout, Auntie Jo, Uncle Jer, Erich, Amber, Annabelle, Henry, Uncle Mike, Auntie Jill, Katelynn, Caroline, William, Leonard, and Lizzy were all there to celebrate together. It was a noisy, happy house. Delia loved all the hubbabaloo, and Quinn did surprisingly well with so many playmates, too.
After a taco dinner and opening beautiful, generous, and thoughtful gifts, we stripped the birthday girl down to her diaper,
we sung "Happy Birthday,"
and we let her eat cake.
And more cake.
And more cake until it was gone,
and she had to lick her tray clean of the frosting.
Birthday girl approved heartily of the sugar buzz.
In our little family, we've decided to only have parties for the first birthday, and then see what requests come after our kids are old enough to have an opinion on the subject. Because of this, I really wanted the day to look the way I saw it in my mind. We hung streamers, floated balloons, and draped long photo garland below a perfect letter A.
Birthday girl approved heartily of the sugar buzz.
We haven't allowed either of our kids to have much (or any?) sugar before their first birthday, so I'm always nervous about how their bellies will react. Delia? She could not have been more pleasant after that cupcake. She had a scream-free bath, lotion, and dressing session for the first time in perhaps ever, and she smiled to beat the band. I think I may have to incorporate a little more sweet stuff into her regular diet.
It's times when we're all gathered together with so many of our family members all in one space, that I feel how very blessed we are. Granted, let's be real--I also hear how very blessed we are. And by "hear" I mean that I wonder if I'll be deaf by the end of the night. But when I reflect on these moments together, I'm always so grateful that our kids will grow up surrounded by family, crazy though they may be, that they know loves them so.
Thanks for helping us celebrate sweet Delia's first big day, family. We love you.
2/27/12
1 year, a love letter
Darling Delia,
Today you are 1 year old. 365 days has passed with you in our arms--in our family. You, my dear, are loved. One short year ago, Daddy and I were in our hospital delivery room, marveling over every inch of your sweet body. Your little legs that refused to straighten. Your sweet Africa-shaped birthmark on your forehead. The deep wrinkle above your nose. Your long, red toes. The deep, deep dark of your eyes. We were smitten at once. And even though I had told Daddy that if you were born with a head full of dark hair (and you were, sweet girl) we would name you Violet, we looked at you and knew the name you had waited for 39 weeks and six days for, was yours: Adelia.
A year later, and you have transformed from a quiet little observer to a giggle factory wanting ever so badly to take part in social chatter. You throw your hand to your mouth when you laugh, and you deliberately throw objects overboard just so you can look up and say "Uh oh." You eat with an appetite that startles us each mealtime. Finally, in the last few days, you started accepting milk in a cup. This week will be your last of nursing. You chase your big brother and you laugh, and laugh when he looks in your direction. You love your black and white board book, Hello Bugs, more than any other book in the house. You kiss on your baby dolls and you sneak a chew of Quinn's blankie caw whenever you can. You snuggle with your soft flannel swaddling blankets, and you suck a green nuk at bedtime. You wave hello and bye-bye, you call for Dadda and Mama. You imitate our sounds and you push buttons on the electronics as soon as we turn our backs. At your birthday party, you showed an affinity for yellow frosting and cake. You laugh at the green and purple balloons and you smile at pictures of yourself. You crawl at incredible speeds, you stand for moments at a time, and you cling to Mama and Daddy whenever you see someone new. You have two bottom teeth, and your second top tooth is finally through. Your smile is beautiful.
Adelia, Delia, Dee Dee, Deels, Dumpling, Bunting, Sweet Lamb, Little Flower, Baby Girl, Little Sister, Darling Pie ... oh, your list of names could go for miles. But above all, you are our daughter. Our firstborn girl, our secondborn child, our darling love.
Happy First Birthday, sweet girl. We love you.
Mama
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Today you are 1 year old. 365 days has passed with you in our arms--in our family. You, my dear, are loved. One short year ago, Daddy and I were in our hospital delivery room, marveling over every inch of your sweet body. Your little legs that refused to straighten. Your sweet Africa-shaped birthmark on your forehead. The deep wrinkle above your nose. Your long, red toes. The deep, deep dark of your eyes. We were smitten at once. And even though I had told Daddy that if you were born with a head full of dark hair (and you were, sweet girl) we would name you Violet, we looked at you and knew the name you had waited for 39 weeks and six days for, was yours: Adelia.
A year later, and you have transformed from a quiet little observer to a giggle factory wanting ever so badly to take part in social chatter. You throw your hand to your mouth when you laugh, and you deliberately throw objects overboard just so you can look up and say "Uh oh." You eat with an appetite that startles us each mealtime. Finally, in the last few days, you started accepting milk in a cup. This week will be your last of nursing. You chase your big brother and you laugh, and laugh when he looks in your direction. You love your black and white board book, Hello Bugs, more than any other book in the house. You kiss on your baby dolls and you sneak a chew of Quinn's blankie caw whenever you can. You snuggle with your soft flannel swaddling blankets, and you suck a green nuk at bedtime. You wave hello and bye-bye, you call for Dadda and Mama. You imitate our sounds and you push buttons on the electronics as soon as we turn our backs. At your birthday party, you showed an affinity for yellow frosting and cake. You laugh at the green and purple balloons and you smile at pictures of yourself. You crawl at incredible speeds, you stand for moments at a time, and you cling to Mama and Daddy whenever you see someone new. You have two bottom teeth, and your second top tooth is finally through. Your smile is beautiful.
Adelia, Delia, Dee Dee, Deels, Dumpling, Bunting, Sweet Lamb, Little Flower, Baby Girl, Little Sister, Darling Pie ... oh, your list of names could go for miles. But above all, you are our daughter. Our firstborn girl, our secondborn child, our darling love.
Happy First Birthday, sweet girl. We love you.
Mama
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2/23/12
sneak peek
Our baby girl turns one this coming Monday. To celebrate this milestone (well, ONE of the ways we celebrate it, anyway), we had my super talented sister, Jolene, take photos yesterday. These were our first "official" photos of Delia. It only took a year ... but it was worth it.
Just a taste of what's to come:
Just a taste of what's to come:
2/22/12
early riser
Finding time to freelance has always been tricky. This isn't news. Anyone who stays home with their kids and has to meet external deadlines of any sort has battled this. Sometimes I get an hour of overlapped rest time during the day, but sometimes I don't. If I turn my back on the kids playing together (recently) Quinn clobbers Delia. Game over. By 8 p.m., when both babes are in bed and the dishes are done, I am often so exhausted that even completing a thought registers on my Richter scale of productivity.
But then, I discovered early mornings. Delia got past that awful bump in the road from her illness, and has been sleeping until 7 or so each morning. Often, I can nurse her and put her back down for another half hour or so, too. I've discovered that if I wake around 6:30, I am motivated and thinking clearly enough to do some serious damage to my freelance pile for a good hour. It has been fantastic in every way.
So, naturally, now that I've had a good two weeks of this, Quinn would choose today, TODAY, to figure out how to climb over his guard rail and get out of bed. Quinn, the dude who is often in bed until 8:30 or 9 a.m., would choose TODAY to open his sweet little peepers at 7 a.m.
Naturally.
This better be a fluke, buddy.
But then, I discovered early mornings. Delia got past that awful bump in the road from her illness, and has been sleeping until 7 or so each morning. Often, I can nurse her and put her back down for another half hour or so, too. I've discovered that if I wake around 6:30, I am motivated and thinking clearly enough to do some serious damage to my freelance pile for a good hour. It has been fantastic in every way.
So, naturally, now that I've had a good two weeks of this, Quinn would choose today, TODAY, to figure out how to climb over his guard rail and get out of bed. Quinn, the dude who is often in bed until 8:30 or 9 a.m., would choose TODAY to open his sweet little peepers at 7 a.m.
Naturally.
This better be a fluke, buddy.
2/21/12
this guy
This guy has jumped into a new stage of the 2s. LORD, am I relieved!
Granted, I realize the difficult tantrums/screaming/whining/general 2-year-oldness could return at at any time, but that doesn't mean I can't relish in the sweet smiles he's been filled with these past few weeks.
He is growing by the second, and speaking better than ever. I feel like I have to translate less frequently than I used to, but there are definitely still some words he needs help with. For example, dude refuses to say "little." Instead, he says "noo-nah." I HAVE NO IDEA. This summer, Dave tried to help him. "Quinn, say little. Le, le, LITTLE." Quinn happily replied "Ne, ne, NOO-NAH!"
He is noticing more than ever the little quirks to our family. He proudly wears his new green watch that he earned from potty training, and tugs his little sleeve to partially cover it before quietly saying, "Just like Daddy."
When I pour Cheerios onto his tray as a little treat, he exclaims "Just like Dee Dee!"
And when I groan in frustration, he echoes my groan and says "Mama says, 'uhhhhhhhh!'"
The other day, I heard him close himself into my bedroom. I was playing with Dee, so I let him be. Then, about 15 minutes later it occurred to me that I should probably check on him. A quiet 2-year-old can be up to no good. I quietly opened the door so as to get a real view of what he was up to, and saw him sitting on our bed, with the little jar of goodies (jewelry, rocks, weird little stuff) that I keep on my bedstand. "Quinn!" I said, and he turned to me in great surprise before quickly saying "Playing Mama's special things!" When I caught him at it again a few days later, he much more calmly told me, "Just love playing Mama's special things."
Well, alright, then.
He is growing by the second, and speaking better than ever. I feel like I have to translate less frequently than I used to, but there are definitely still some words he needs help with. For example, dude refuses to say "little." Instead, he says "noo-nah." I HAVE NO IDEA. This summer, Dave tried to help him. "Quinn, say little. Le, le, LITTLE." Quinn happily replied "Ne, ne, NOO-NAH!"
He is noticing more than ever the little quirks to our family. He proudly wears his new green watch that he earned from potty training, and tugs his little sleeve to partially cover it before quietly saying, "Just like Daddy."
When I pour Cheerios onto his tray as a little treat, he exclaims "Just like Dee Dee!"
And when I groan in frustration, he echoes my groan and says "Mama says, 'uhhhhhhhh!'"
The other day, I heard him close himself into my bedroom. I was playing with Dee, so I let him be. Then, about 15 minutes later it occurred to me that I should probably check on him. A quiet 2-year-old can be up to no good. I quietly opened the door so as to get a real view of what he was up to, and saw him sitting on our bed, with the little jar of goodies (jewelry, rocks, weird little stuff) that I keep on my bedstand. "Quinn!" I said, and he turned to me in great surprise before quickly saying "Playing Mama's special things!" When I caught him at it again a few days later, he much more calmly told me, "Just love playing Mama's special things."
Well, alright, then.
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