A Photo Retrospective

Tomorrow my little baby will be 11 months old. I can’t believe that time has flown so fast. Very soon she will be a 1 year. Very soon she won’t be my little baby. And, if you have read a few of my posts you will know that I am very sentimental about my little muffin, monkey, pumpkin, sugar face growing so quickly.

Words can’t do it justice.

So instead, here are some never blogged before pictures of the little one over the last 11 months. It's rare for me to post pictures so this is a special treat. And tell me, wouldn't you want her to stay little like I do?!

~ humps

I Cheered

I wasn't paying attention. My head was down washing dishes while Baby played with her toys in the living room. I looked up periodically to make sure that she was ok. That she wasn't climbing furniture, or eating books, or getting into trouble. That she was safe.

When I rounded the corner she was standing up, holding onto the couch and facing me. She's been cruising for months so it wasn't too unusual. Finding interesting ways to make it across the room, holding on to various edges at varying heights. But this time she let go. And took two confident and exaggerated steps to the side. Without holding on.

I froze. "Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing? Is she? Is she walking?!!"

It took some time for the wires that connect my eyes with my brain to signal that I was in fact watching a fairly significant milestone. I was watching her take her very first steps at 10 months. It took even more time for my brain to tell the rest of my body exactly what I needed to do about it. Should I get the camera?

And like that my knees gave out. I feel to the floor and did what any excited-first-time-mother watching-her-little-baby-take-a-first-step would do. I cheered. I hollered. I waved my hands. I'm not sure if I was actually saying anything in particular, like "Go! Go! Go!" or if it was random jibberish. But whatever it was scared the crap out of her. She fell down on her butt. She looked at me.

In hindsight, the cheering maybe wasn't the best way to handle the situation. I can put myself in her shoes and appreciate that learning how to walk is hard enough without someone screaming in your face. But I was so excited.

The next day, I wasn't sure if I really saw her first steps or if I imagined it. Then she did it again. I didn't say anything. The day after that she took more steps. She can now make it from the couch to the TV. She is demonstrating her walk abilities a lot. She is mastering this walking thing.

And in order to help her, I don't say anything. I don't fall to my knees. And I only cheer a tiny, tiny bit.

~ humps

Going, Going, Grey

It was a busy day. Waking up late after a night of crying baby. Rushing through breakfast, and that weird dance of getting self and child ready. Showers and toothpaste and onesies and baby lotion. Did I put on deodorant? We were already behind schedule. I was trying to calculate if I had enough gas to make it to the destination, or if I should stop. How much time would that add on? Did I have cash? Am I going to find parking? Snacks! I should make sure to pack some snack in the diaper bag. And more diapers. And refill the wipes container. Don't forget an extra change of clothes. I bundled BABY up in her snowsuit, then her stroller. She looked up at me, barely able to move, with her pink and brown winter hat falling over her eyes. Why did I bundle her up so much? We were only going to the elevator and underground parking garage. Naah, leave her. I should bring the stroller with me.

We got home hours later, after many miles, spilled pear slices, circles around the block for parking, and gas station fumes. I put off meeting a friend for dinner to buy some time for an afternoon nap - BABY not me - and a snack - me not BABY.

I went into the washroom convinced that I should just put on some lipgloss - because surely shiny lips will distract from my exhaustion. As I bent over the sink, I saw it. The light danced over it and like a mirror reflecting rays of sun it caught my eye. As plain as day. A grey hair.

What? Huh? Is that a...

It was a grey hair staring at me on the other end of the mirror. I wiped the top of my head at first, because I really didn't want to overreact about some fluff. Then I leaned into the mirror and isolated the curly strand that sat on top of my head. It was attached alright. It was just like the other hairs that lay around it. But this one was white. Very white. My first grey hair.

My mind immediately re-traced my steps today. Recognizing that (1) I was walking around with a grey hair all day today. When did this happen exactly? And (2) my daughter is giving me grey hairs.

My not one to blame others, but really, how else could this have happened. Clearly my mom lifestyle is sending a message to my body that says, "Pack it in! She's a mom. Game over!". I'm too freaking young to have grey hairs.

After a few emergency phone calls - gotta reach out to the life line on things like this - I pulled the grey hair out by the root. And so it begins....

~ humps