Not that kind of mom

A few weeks ago, I was at a playgroup and all the moms started talking about the Easter baskets they'd already put together for their toddlers. They were so excited and giddy as they discussed and compared notes.

I? Hadn't even thought to make one for Baby Girl.

When it comes to teaching kindness and empathy? I'm a rockstar. Sign language and language development? I own that. And as for my love? Well, nothing is greater.

But birthday parties, scrapbooks, art projects? Not so much.

Which isn't to say I don't try.

In the past two weeks, I've bought finger paint. I made window painting bags. I made homemade playdough. I made a freaking sensory bin, even though I still don't really get the point.

And every time, her response was the same. "Mmm, no thanks." Or at least that's what I imagine she's saying as she wanders off to scrub my windows with a baby wipe.

I really want these projects to work, for a lot of reasons. The day at home is really long, and I need ways to fill the time. I love the idea of teaching her to be artistic, of helping her develop multiple intelligences. But most of all? It's because they look fun.

You know, in theory.

In reality? I just don't get it. I hate doing it. I resent it. And then when she doesn't even like it, I get angry. I'm just not the right kind of mom for those things.

And that's okay.

But it doesn't always feel okay. Sometimes I feel like I must be missing a gene. Other stay at home moms do such great things with their kids, and I just can't. And it's not so much an issue of my baby missing out. She's fine. Happy as a clam.

It's me. I want to get excited about things the way the Pinterest mamas do. I want to enjoy being with my daughter. And when I don't, it makes me sad.

But I know in my heart that more projects I hate aren't the answer. I know that all I can do is be the mom I am, no matter how much I wish I could be that kind of mom. Does that mean I won't ever look again? No, I'm not that fast a learner.

But.

This morning in her high chair, my Baby Girl signed "bunny."

"Where's the bunny?"

She pointed at the window, so I walked over and looked out. And she started laughing hysterically.

I turned around slowly, with one hand on my hip. With a twinkle in her eye, my tiny comedienne patted her leg, said "Do(g)!" and pointed at the window again, busting a gut as I turned to look again.

This game? I could play all day.

Life's lessons: Being 18 months old

1. Being 18 months old is hard.
   
2. Even if you know sign language? You suddenly realize how many things are that you want to say but can't.
   
3. And then you say things like "A bababa da da squa squa daaaaat."
   
4. And throw a temper tantrum when your mom doesn't give you what you want.
   
5. While mom cries in a corner or says "JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT."
   
6. Even though, duh, mom. You're trying.
   
7. I know.
   
8. And when you're 18 months old, it's also hard to wait for things.
   
9. And hard to reason out why on earth mom would think you would want to start nursing less.
   
10. Or, you know, sleep through the night.
    
11. Or stay inside when it's raining out.
    
12. I know.
    
13. It's hard to be 18 months old.
    
14. You only have to do it for one month, though, kiddo, so hang on.
    
15. But it's hard to wait.
    
16. I know.
    

Life's lessons: What she can do

1. A one year old can't play Wii games (we've tried).
   
2. She can't fold a fitted bed sheet even though she seems to want to.
   
3. She can't say the final consonants of things, but mommy understands when she wants her "du" or her "do," to be held by "da" or to take off her "saaaaa."
   
4. She doesn't say "mommy" because really she doesn't need to.
   
5. But she can pull anything off any surface in the house, no matter how much you think it's protected.
   
6. She can sign "more," "all done," and "baby." She can sign other things too, but mostly she just wants to sign "baby."
   
7. She can dance if she wants to. She can leave her friends behind. Wait, I got a little off track there.
   
8. She can hand something to me or daddy if we ask for it. And if she feels like it.
   
9. She can hand me the dishes out of the dishwasher. (Sa-weeeeeeet. I win at parenting.)
   
10. And she can run across the room at me full speed with her arms wide open, laughing hysterically as she throws herself into my arms.
    
11. This mom thing? Is a pretty good gig.
    

Just like mama

Yesterday, I did something drastic. I tried to read. An actual book. While my baby - err, toddler - was awake.

I had been reading during naptime, and she was playing on the floor, and I really just wanted to finish the book, so I figured I'd give it a shot. And do you know what she did?

She looked at me, crawled over to her shelf, picked up a book, and started flipping through it.

Wow. So,apparently, she's watching.

(Okay, before you are all jealous, she did that for about 2 minutes before crawling back over to me and climbing on my head. But that's not the point right now.)

I guess I've always known that she was watching everything I did. I guess I've always realized that the things I did were setting an example. But suddenly in that moment, her tapping away on her Fisher Price laptop with both hands didn't seem as cute.

I try to play with her. I try to make her healthy food. I read to her. I sing to her. But what am I really teaching her?

If I want her to be a reader, she needs to see me reading. If I want her to eat well, she needs to see me eating and cooking well. If I want her to take care of herself, to feel good about herself, to lead a healthy and successful life? I may need to reconsider the way I'm living mine.

My Baby Girl's Valentine from Shutterfly.

Love Hugs Kisses Valentine's Card

Invitations, announcements and Christmas cards by Shutterfly.

View the entire collection of cards.

Right now, Shutterfly is giving a $10 credit to bloggers who share a card they have made. Just click on the card, then click share and embed the card on your blog.

This is a card Baby Girl sent to her grandparents last year. I can't wait to make her Christmas cards!

Life's Lessons: Lunch date

1. So remember that lunch date DH took me and Baby Girl on when she was 8 months old?
   
2. Well, he took me back to that restaurant for lunch again.
   
3. And today? It was much less eventful. Thankfully.
   
4. Well, except when the old lady BG was staring at said hi, and BG decided to scream.
   
5. Or when I tried to give her a taste of my pasta, and she grabbed it off the spoon, lemon butter sauce and all.
   
6. Or when she let me know she was done with her bread by throwing it across the restaurant.
   
7. But somehow? None of that really bothered me so much. I was eating great food and laughing with my two favorite cuties.
   
8. Today was a reminder of how much things have changed in the past 5 months.
   
9. And how much things haven't.
   
10. I guess my point is, if there's a lesson to be learned from today? I haven't learned it yet.
    
11. So I guess DH is just going to have to keep taking me out to nice restaurants for lunch until I do.
    

Today, I'm linking up again with Donut's Mama. Stop by and give her a little extra love today, okay? She can use it.

Life's Lessons: The Wedding Guests edition

We went to a wedding this weekend, and so we've been out of town since Thursday. (Can I claim that as the reason I haven't blogged in two weeks?) It was a pretty hectic trip but I came away with some great lessons:

1. A seven hour car trip is the ideal cure for a nap strike. Thank God.
   
   
2. People think you're brave and admirable when you take a 10 month old to a wedding, which is strange when it wouldn't occur to you to go anywhere without her.
   
   
3. When brides tell you, "it's totally okay if she cries during the ceremony, I don't mind," it's best to ignore that advice.
   
   
4. Crying rooms? Are good. Very good.
   
   
5. My friends want to steal my baby. As soon as I got to the cocktail hour, my friend's wife said, "You need a drink. I'll hold her." And then disappeared.
   
   
6. They always come back to me when she cries though. Or poops.
   
   
7. Champagne? Also very good.
   
   
8. Baby food in pouches is the most ingenious invention ever.
   
   
9. Baby Girl is a party girl. I don't know if it was the strobe light (ooh pretty) or a particular fondness for The Black Eyed Peas, but as soon as daddy got her on the dance floor, she started laughing and singing. (Although, the words are "tonight's gonna be a good night," not "Dadadadada." Close enough, sweetie.)
   
   
10. When you are breastfeeding, you have an excuse to grab an extra piece of wedding cake without anyone looking at you strangely.
    
    
11. Stressing about bedtime is apparently totally irrelevant. My child can party until 10:30, then pass out without a single tear and stay asleep while I change her diaper, wash her face, put on her pajamas, and put her to bed in a hotel crib.
    
    
12. Sleeping through the night though? Not so much.
    
    
13. Going away and having fun is good for me, and it is good for our whole family.
    
    
14. Coming home is pretty darn good, too.
    

Rocking the Baby

In a rare public appearance, here is Baby Girl. Don't eat her please!

In the hospital:

On Halloween, at 6 weeks:

Helping me with the laundry last month:

The good stuff

I was talking to a new, dear Twitter friend yesterday and had myself a mini-revelation. (Why does the advice come easier when it's to other people?)

I told her to try as much as she could to focus on the stuff she was enjoying so the bad stuff didn't get bigger than it deserved. And then I realized that all I've been thinking and talking about is the bad stuff. While it's okay to feel sad and frustrated and overwhelmed, and I don't want to pretend I don't feel that way, it's also important to remember and recognize that sometimes it feels great. I'm not just waiting for this stage to be over. I'm enjoying so many things. For example:

Instead of crying when she starts to get tired, she gets grabby. And sucks on everything. I can almost hear her say "mommy, I'm not tired. I just want to eat your face, mommy. Mommy, can I eat your face, mommy?"

She is a genius at blowing raspberries. Particularly on her daddy's face. Presumably because she knows how much he enjoys a good flatulence joke.

I can lie on the floor with a blanket over my head and say "Where's mommy?" and Baby Girl will crawl across the room, pull the blanket off and laugh hysterically. She totally loves me. And she's got that object permanence thing down. (I'm a nerd. A proud, proud nerd.)

And there are a million more things that I love and enjoy. That I enjoy even when I'm tired, even when I'm frustrated. When I feel bad, it's easy to think that I always feel bad, and that I always will feel bad, but it's just not true. Sometimes I just need a little reminder.