Slides and Swings

Dear Layla,

While your G-Parents were visiting we took you to the neighborhood park for a little fun. I've wanted to take you there for a few weeks, but it always seemed to rain when we had some free time. I just knew you would love the swings. I was SO wrong.

When we first got to the park, G-Pa put you on the slide because some other kids were swinging. You absolutely loved it. Here is the proof:

After a few trips down the slide, we put you in the swing. It was obvious that you missed the slide. You kept looking over at it with a look of longing. Don't believe me? Check this out:

So we put you back on the slide. You love slides! In this video, we pretend that we are leaving the park. Clearly you did NOT want to leave your precious slide!

Oh Layla, you are such a silly, little girl! Thanks for all the giggles!

Love,
Mommy

Work It Girl!

Dear Layla,

I think you are on your way to a modeling career. When a camera comes out, you pose and smile. It's cute and very diva-like.

It all started when you were just days old. I started taking "Daily Dose" pictures for G-Ma and the rest of the family. A "Daily Dose" is a picture or two that I email to G-Ma every morning. And believe me when I say this - she gets a little testy if I miss a Dose or two. I once got an email that simply said, "I NEED A FIX" in the subject line. Apparently pictures of you are like crack to her - she's gotta have it!

Here is one of my favorite Daily Dose pictures.

So after many months of Daily Doses, you know exactly what to do when the camera comes out. You always give a big smile. You always let your personality shine though. You occasionally blink at the flash - but who doesn't?

The Office

Dear Layla,

Those super late/early morning feedings were pretty brutal. I mean, at 2:00 a.m. most people want to be sleeping, but you liked to eat and play for about an hour, sometimes longer. One time, when you were about a week old, I fell asleep while you were nursing. G-Ma was the one who found us on the couch. She was freaked out and so was I. I knew I needed to do something.

The Office was my answer. I set the DVR to record the series on any and all channels it came on. When we got up for a feeding, I turned on the show. I watched an episode or two until you were back asleep. I was able to stay awake and entertained! It was great catching up with everyone at Dunder Mifflin, especially since I never really watched the show prior to you being born.

Now I LOVE the show. And by the looks of things - so do you.

Love,
Mommy

Driving Lessons

Dear Layla,

My first car was a teal blue, four-door Saturn. Uncle Jason always agrued that the color was green, but I'm convinced he's color blind. It was blue, no matter what he says. That car was the bomb! I loved that car. It had manual windows and locks, a ink stain on the back seat from the previous owner, and a tape deck! (I got a CD player installed one year for Christmas, which totally rocked!)

Your first car is a pink converable. Lucky girl! Perhaps the best part is that you don't even have a gas bill.

Love,
Mommy

What's So Funny?

Dear Layla,

I don't know why, but sneezing is so funny to you. It doesn't matter if it's a real sneeze or a fake sneeze - it's all so funny. I don't think sneezing is funny at all, but watching you laugh makes me laugh.

Love,
Mommy

Home Cookin'

Dear Layla,

You've been eating solid food for several months now and you've never had a home cooked meal. During my pregnancy I had this naive thought that I would make your baby food. It honestly didn't seem that difficult or strange to me. I mean, if that ditz Nicole Richie can do it, why can't I?

My plan was simple: I would take an hour or two each Sunday afternoon to cook up some veggies and fruits, puree them in a handy-dandy food mill, and store them in the fridge to use throughout the week. Viola!

It has never happened. Sheesh.

You really don't seem to mind. Apparently Gerber makes a mean meal. You are particularly fond of the peaches and sweet potatoes. Peas, on the other hand, disgust you. Daddy likes to laugh at your facial expressions while eating them. As torturous as it is, I still feed you peas. I've learned to feed you a couple bites of peas, then a bite of fruit as a reward. You still don't love peas. You just tolerate them until you get a bite of something sweet and yummy.

I honestly don't know what I was thinking with the whole homemade baby food thing. It sounded like a great idea at the time. After a long day of Working Motherhood (more on that in a later post) I don't even want to cook dinner for myself and Daddy. You probably eat better than us!

But there will come a time when Gerber will no longer be your chef and I'll have to step up to the plate, er . . . stove. I'll cook your meals and pack your lunches - probably with a little help from Little Debbie.

Love,

Mommy

The Caitlin Post

Prelude:

It seems like my mind is always racing. Gotta do this, gotta do that, gotta do it all NOW. Some days I feel like Wonderwoman because I manage to to crawl into bed feeling successful and accomplished with my day. Being a Working Mom (and no - that probably shouldn't be capitalized, but I think it ought to be, so I will take the literary liberty and do so on behalf of all Working Mothers out there) is a challenge.

With all the things on my plate, this blog often suffers. Poor blog. I keep telling myself, "Don't be like some of those other bloggers out there in cyberland that create a blog, abandon it, and then write a lame apology post saying 'life is crazy' and that is why I didn't post anything for 9 months". Weak!

This brings me back to the fact that my mind is always racing. In my mind, I have about 20 blog posts swirling around just waiting for me to compose. I admitted this to Aunt Caitlin and said that one of the yet-to-be-written posts is about her. She reminded today that she is still waiting for her post. That was the gentle nudge that I needed to get my fingers typing. I hope this post lives up to the hype.

Dear Layla,


I love you. I love everything about you - from your microscopic pinky toenail to that one super long strand of hair that grows just above your right ear. You are perfect and you can't do anything wrong.

I am sure that Daddy feels the same way. And your grandparents. And the rest of the family. And your Aunt Caitlin.

In fact, if anything were to happen to Daddy or I, I'm sure Aunt Caitlin would swoop in and raise you like her own daughter without any hesitation whatsoever. I'm also sure that Aunt Caitlin would swoop in and raise you like her own daughter even if Daddy and I were perfectly capable of doing so. She wouldn't really need a reason to take you. She would just do it.

My relationship with Aunt Caitlin began at the gym. We were pretty good friends who hung out, ate Mexican food together, and talked about baby stuff a lot. She asked the best questions about being pregnant. Questions like, "Do you think she can hear me?" and "How does she poop?" and "Does she have prune fingers like we do when we sit in the bathtub for too long?" I thought she was hilarious. She told me that she wished she could talk to you the moment you were born so that she could ask you about your time in the womb. Oh my God - just thinking about potential conversation makes me giggle.

So when it came time for me to sit through an all day New Baby class and Daddy couldn't go, I asked the one person who was almost as obsessed with your development as I was: Aunt Caitlin. She agreed. That was when we took our relationship to the next level of "Spend the Whole Day Together".

She made that day of sitting around listening to the do's and don'ts of baby stuff a blast. We were both repulsed by the video of the OB/GYN yanking a baby out by it's head, in love with the super cute couple that sat near us (She was the classic blonde and he was the dark, Persian-type. I'm sure their son is a studmuffin!), and eye-rolled the hippee couple that swore they were only going to use cloth diapers for their son because they were so much cheaper. Pa-leeze! Cloth diapers?! What do you do with a dirty, cloth diaper when you are in the middle of running errands?! Anyway. . .

During one of the activities, we had to get a baby doll to practice diaper changing and bathing. Aunt Caitlin wanted the big Black baby who looked about 2, but I wanted the little, cute one that was smiling. She teased me that I wanted that one because it was White. With that, we took our relationship to another level of "Make Slightly Inappropriate Digs At One Another Without Anyone Getting Upset".

At the end of class, the instructor had all the pregnant ladies sit on the floor so that the partners could give massages and shoulder rubs. That is something we did not do. We did not go to the level of "Give Friendly Massages in Public". That would be going too far. LOL!

Aunt Caitlin was the Assistant Birthing Coach, ready to jump in the delivery room if Daddy failed and needed to be subbed out. She was the first person to give you a bottle. She was the first person to babysit you for the day while I went to work. She was one of the first, non-family person to hold you.


You love her. I can tell by the way you smile when you see her or hear her voice. When she sees you, she always calls you her best friend and says that she loves you. And I know that she means it too.

Your relationship is at a level that I can never mess with.

Love,
Mommy