As She Grows...and I Grow

She's wanting to pick out the clothes I dress her in now.  I'll show her two shirts, and she'll decide on one.  She got upset when I tried putting on a pair of pants when she wants the nother ones she saw nearby.  When helping me fold her laundry, she found a pair of teal sweatpants that she wanted to wear to bed, along with her peach unicorn shirt (not jamas at all).

She wanted to wash herself in the bath, and she did a dang good job.  She scrubbed each of her body parts as I named them, and even held onto the edge of the tub to wash her feet.  We both leaned against opposite ends of the bath tub, water up to our chests, relaxing.  She's learning to blow bubbles in the water with her mouth, and she would laugh so entirely happily and hard each time I would show her, and each time I would cheer when she finally figured out how to (sort of) do it.

She laughs when she tries to run away when I want to change her diaper or clothes, and she laughs when I catch her.  She loves when she holds both mine and Daddy's hands and we swing her high in the air.

Farrah do it.  Daddy cough.  Farrah's socks.  Mommy hold you.  Mommy help you.  Farrah's daddy.  Farrah's mommy.

Her smile is beautiful.  Her silly faces are funny.  She can practically count to ten!  I had no idea she knew how to until my parents watched her and said that she was counting.  One...two...three...four...five...six...seven...eight....eight...nine...nine...ten...ten!  She knows a lot of her colors, and she still seems to prefer her left hand.

Yesterday I just randomly decided that we "didn't have her paci" when we picked her up.  She was so confused.  Daddy have it?  Mommy get it?  Paci?!  Farrah paci?  *extreme sad lip and teary eyed look*  She plead again at bedtime.  Same questions, while searching both side pockets of the rocking chair.  Mommy have it?  Daddy have it?  Paci?  Baby paci?  *sad face and sincerely sad tears*  

It broke my heart.  This parenting stuff, I'm telling you, is harder on the heart that it may seem.  I read an article about how we should treat and speak to our children the way that we feel we deserve to be treated and spoken to.  After long days of being overwhelmed or exhausted, we tend to forget how hard it must be for children.  They can't use the right words to express themselves which frustrates themselves as well as us.  They may not be able to move their hands well enough to do what they are trying to do.  They can't get themselves something to eat or drink whenever they feel like it so they have to ask us for help and sometimes we simply tell them "no" because we are busy or don't feel like it.  We get distracted by our phones or TV or something else when they are simply trying to talk to us or play with us or get our attention.  It hit home.  It was a good reminder.

However, at the same time, parenting is just that --- parenting.  Sometimes we have to do the hard things despite how it makes everyone involved feel.  Sometimes when Farrah cryning, we have to yell sternly at her to stop.  Stop crying.  Use your words.  We cannot talk to you until you stop crying.

Sometimes we have to tell her that she no longer has one of her biggest comforts, a best friend, her every car-ride, nap-time, and bed-time buddy, her pacifier.  Because why?  She's too big?  She's a big girl that day when she wasn't the day before?  Her mouth is too big for a paci?!  I decided to comfort her as I would want to be comforted if I could no longer have a physical object that I had grown used to and felt comforted by.  I told her this morning that I understand she is sad and that I am sorry.  I know I have to be her teacher and her parent.  I also have to do things, hard things, that will help her grow and mold into a healthy, strong individual.  So I simply explained that she doesn't need her paci anymore.  I chose to veer away from lies and excuses such as we lost it, forgot it, it got broken, or someone else has it, etc.  I told her this morning that Mommy took it away.  I explained that she is getting older and that her mouth is so pretty and that she can use her mouth to talk and to eat and to drink instead of needing it for a paci.

I told her that she's Mommy's girl and Daddy's girl.  I told her that she's my best friend.  When she said home while smiling as I was taking her to daycare, I told her how much I would love to be home with her and playing with her, and that I love her so very much!

Parenting is a mixture of loving so ever deeply and fully and beautifully + not ever being able to get enough of that child + knowing those perfect moments and stages will continue to change + having to do hard things to teach your child to do and be their very best + constantly being intentional + learning selflessness + doing things that you don't find fun on behalf of being there for your child + discovering depths of your heart when you see your child laugh and learn + knowing that this list never ends...

Some Daycare Photos:

Update on F.O.B.

In less than three months, my baby girl will be 2.  T.W.O.  A two-year-old.  That's almost harder to believe than when she was turning 1.  Without the major adjustment to her birth, maternity leave, milestones, and countless hours awake with her throughout the nights during her first year - her second year has flown by ever so quickly.  I so often stop all that I could be doing and play with Farrah.  We one-by-one stand up all 9 of her farm animal figurines, saying what noise they make or what they are called, and then lay them all down telling them all night night.  We play with her kitchen set.  We run around (her run is quick, short high steps and it's adorable) and laugh and shh shh her baby doll.  We dance to Daddy playing the guitar.  Or I just simply watch her.

I'm realizing that the way I have kept track of Farrah's progression will have to change.  That's because she has been changing so rapidly.  And the amount of things she does and says cannot be listed out anymore.  She is the center of my whole world.  I can say what's coming next because of the former statement:  She is a beautiful mess.  She's one of a kind.  She's something else.  She's a mess.  She's hell on wheels.  She is her father's daughter in so many ways - she keeps us on our toes, her moods are always changing, and she's unpredictable as can be.  I've been hearing Keane tell Farrah that she is like me in the way that she is caring.  A top priority to her is taking care of the pets (feeding them, talking to them, giving them treats) and her baby doll.  Oh, and she always wants ice in her tea (like Daddy).  She usually only drinks milk or water, but occasionally she'll get her iced tea.

Some of the cutest things she's saying lately is almost as a commentary.  Farrah walking.  Farrah sit.  Rudy schwim!  Awww....SO cuute!!!  Mommy's drink.  Daddy blue shirt.  Farrah all done.  Mommy get it.  

She still cries each morning when we drop her off at daycare.  Except one day.  Last week, on Tuesday, she didn't.  It felt amazing.  Until Wednesday morning, when she cried again.

She loves her daycare teachers and friends.  We name them all each evening and talk about how they all are going night night.  Hadassah.  Caitlin.  Abe.  Lainey.  Kate.  Jay.  Charley.  Marissa.  Paxton.  Azzy.  WayWay.  Nicky.  Phyllis.  

She's really into Roar! (Daniel Tiger)  She always has to have four things with her when we go anywhere: 1) Lambie; 2) baby doll 3) Blankie 4) Paci.  And in the car I usually have to rub her leg and hum.  She requests her sunglasses when it's bright, so we always have those ready.

We have been letting Daddy go in to pick her up at daycare and take her outside with him to feed Rudy and put wood in the stove...trying to help strengthen and foster their relationship, as she is very used to Mommy being her go-to person.  She is so in love with Kaden and Kylie.  The other night she thought she heard Kaden and asked Kaden talking?  And she walked to our laundry room door and asked about six times Kylie home? Kylie home?

She usually doesn't want to take a bath, until she takes a bath.  She's never ready to say good night, but she sleeps really great once I rock her to sleep.  She sleeps in usually, sometimes after 9:00 a.m. and then she is ready to take on the world...but after she eats.

I'm learning that our parenting has to be intentional.  We have intentionally made an effort to provide healthy snacks for her in the car, as opposed to the pecan spinwheels and cookies she had been eating.  Now it's cut up fruit usually.  Farrah's hollaring when someone speaks to her now requires a quick spanking or stern correcting because that is not acceptable.  She has to learn to say please when asking for something, and to do what is asked of her.  What I also mean to say is that parenting is becoming real and harder and constant.

But she's beautiful and smart and quick and silly.  She is learning to catch and throw.  She is always asking that we sing A-B-J (alphabet).  She remembers so much, like the one day we saw a kitten outside her daycare in August - when we were leaving the other day she asked kitty go?  She brushed and tossed around my hair the other night and kept saying Mommy hair pretty!  If only she would have known I would have let her stay up way past her bedtime if she would have kept doing that, ha!

The first stages of motherhood (soaking in, embracing, and feeling) have passed into the stage of motherhood I am currently in now: learning, strengthening, and enjoying.  It's not quite as perfectly ideal.  But it's real and it's amazing and it's rewarding.  I feel so good when she plays out her apology, Sorry Daddy with her little arms stretching tight across his broad shoulders and he closes his eyes embracing our on-the-go toddler.  My day literally feels like a success when it ends with her eating a delicious and healthy meal, giving her a bath, and rocking her to sleep.  When she puckers up her lips for a requested kiss and replies Lud you, Mommy.  

I love you too, baby girl.