9 Months with the Monster

Tis that time. Pause on the political fiascos, the pop culture references, and the other things I should know better than to post. Goose update!  

9 months.

She’s the best kid. So silly and just the prettiest little thing. She has this laugh that takes over her body and blue eyes that go wide when she's overcome by the giggles. She can do no wrong. I will regret these words when she copies them off my blog 16 years from now, right after I catch her taking the car out too late or throwing a party when we’re on vacation. Karma is a bitch best served in parenting.

Also, this kid is loud. Her sillies come with an action packed soundtrack. 2/10 babies in my mom group are yellers. She’s one.

We left daycare this month and started at a nanny share with another friend from mom group. Her sweet, wonderful teachers were so sad to see her go, but I'm pretty excited for her nanny share.

Here's how much getting sick all the time sucks: I am leaving a 5-minute commute to her day care, that she loves, to take on a 30-minute commute and 2 hours of less care time. I'm done. My nostrils are scarred. My lungs are exhausted. My guts are begging me to please get it under control. And my brain is almost completely packed with a nice, dense fog. No more daycare. No more foggy brain. Plus, the nanny is great. She's like midwestern ballerina barbie with a knack for making the F-word sound like it belongs in Sesame Street. I find that just delightful. A "fuck you're cute" sort of girl. She has the small town grit you see a lot in the midwest and south and a "raise em like the 90's" mantra, where they go free range in the backyard most days, clothing optional. Plus, she was a kindergarten teacher for many years. You know what that tells me? She has a radioactive immune system. Let's do this.

She is growing up not fast or slow, but in her own quirky way. Her first teeth came in a little later than most. It was the bottom front two per usual, but they pierced through her gums as though they slept in and needed to sprint to make it out in time. One day she was gummy. The next, they were there. She isn’t crawling but scooting backwards and everywhere. In her last week of daycare they found her stuck in a corner because she'd scooted to the other side of the room and couldn't move forward. She can stand on two sturdy legs for about 5 seconds. When lying down she loves to grab the nearest pole (chair leg, table leg, etc.), kick her legs up, point her toes, and move em up and down to put on a show. Her Daddy calls this her Pink Pony Club. We’re just trying to be progressive and supportive parents of our child’s unique lifestyle.

In terms of eating and foods, she’s a yes to it all. Black olives. Beet puree. Onion. Dino taters. Most veggies. Dirt. Receipts. Clothing tags. Vegetables. But the few things she doesn’t like, she doesn’t just neglect on her plate or push to the side. She makes a dramatic scene to prevent her parents from EVER making the same stupid mistake. Today, she grabbed a pea, dangled it over her high chair, eye brows furrowed, then released it. As it plummeted down to the floor, her gaze remained on me - dead in the eyes. Though a little scared, I laughed. She. Did. Not.

When my mom and dad call, they enjoy at the loud noises in the background, marveling at how much more vocal and squirmy she is than Clark and I ever were. When her paternal Grandpa calls, he isn’t surprised, he says, with a wee little tickle of fear in his voice. And now we know who to blame if she isn’t perfect.

And finally - she says dada. And as much as I want to deny it’s for her dada, she looks at that man with every ounce of her boundless energy and explodes in giggles and all the happy feels, as she yells a “DADADADADADADA”. It’s actually pretty awesome.

We love you lil Quiche. You have only one month you’re allowed to grow, then my dear friend Jenna recommends we stop you there. Rumor has it 10 months is just the best.