One Year Old

She is ready to walk. Standing up by her big girl self for a few seconds at a time. Not wanting to miss out on a single thing. I'm afraid my baby might be morphing into a toddler. There. I said it. Now, let me go cry a little.

On The Daily

Already there is the 2nd child syndrome. Fewer pictures, fewer blog posts, etc.

Wren is an awesome sleeper. My biggest irritation with new motherhood the first go-round is not even a blip on the radar. Thank GOD! But, I will reiterate what others have told me: adjusting with 2 can be harder than having the first. That's SO true in some ways. Not because Wren is difficult, but because I can't devote 100% of my attention to her. But she's a good sport.

We've established a pretty nice rhythm. I'm working Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and I'm home with the girlies on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Honestly, I worried about being home alone with them ALL day. What would we do? What if I needed help? How would I get anything done? Should I be doing activities? Playdates? Surprisingly, none of that matters. We just do whatever. Usually, I have ZERO plans on those days except to wash diapers and pack bags for the next day of work/school. And I've even checked the grocery-store-in-the-rain-with-both-kids box (one of whom had a poopy diaper during the event).

Wren started daycare without ever having taken a bottle. "Good luck!" I said as I walked out the door.  It's not that we had been anti-bottle. It's just that I hadn't left her for any length of time and so we hadn't needed a bottle. Well, daycare got a big fat refusal from Wren. For 2 whole weeks. They fed her with a medicine dropper... like a baby bird!! That girl. She's so easy going and smiley. I was surprised that she drew such a hard line in the sand. Since then, she's gotten the hang of it. The teacher that finally got her to take it said that Wren was so proud!! It's like she wasn't convinced the bottle would actually feed her until she "accidentally" drank from it. Then the light went off... "HEY! I can get full when Mommy's not even around!" She's still very much attached to nursing and more than makes up for being away from me on the days that we're home.

Day is so verbal that I have a hard time remembering that she is barely 3 years old. (For example, right now she's making up her own version to the Barney song. Hers goes, ""I like you. You like me. We're a big fat family.") And she tests and pushes every boundary I try to establish. CONSTANT pushing. On things that seem to be so insignificant. "NO! I want three pancakes, not FOUR!" And don't DARE throw off her nighttime routine. Must have a minimum of 3 books. Mommy must bathe and read, not Daddy. Ever. Or there will be flailing and snotty face tears. She can be vicious. She tells me she loves me about 100 times a day. Then she says, "We say I love you TWENTY times!" And she has this grovely inflection that I'm sure has mutated from the early days of growling her words. I love to hear her talk. And I stay amused with the things she comes up with.

Early this year we lost Chloe. That deserves it's own blog post, but I'm not sure I'm ready. After all, she was my first baby. On a lighter note, we now have three hens. Day named them Sheila, Fannie May, and Snappy. Perfect.

Here they are entertaining themselves/each other while I do laundry (the girls, not the hens):

And one more for your entertainment: