Tick tock, tick tock...

and that's not my biological clock...

There's no such thing as TMI once you've given birth...

You know, it's strangely satisfying to get a "big one" when you're aspirating the boogers out of your child's noise. Kind of like when you pop your significant other's zits. Admit it - you know you've done it!

I'm pathetic

Today was the first morning we attempted to start Weez off in the toddler room (as opposed to starting off in the infant room and then being moved over to the toddler room after I've gone). What a disaster - she just screamed and clung to me when I tried to leave. Tears and snot everywhere... and Weezie was a mess, too! This never happens when I drop her off in the infant room. She usually doesn't bat an eyelash when I leave and just gives me that "yeah, mom, go ahead and go, you're embarrassing me" look. I know she just needs time to adjust, but it breaks my heart. I asked them to let her stay in the infant room all day today. I know, I know!!

Mommy economics

So I just spent $150 at Gymboree to save $75 off my next $150 purchase.

This stuff is like crack.

Singing the mama blues...

Somehow my little newborn became a toddler when I wasn't looking. Seriously, it's like those little pills you drop in water that magically expand to became a spongey purple dinosaur. It's fascinating to watch her develop and learn, yet part of me wants to swaddle her up tight so she stays my little baby forever. My own little baby bonsai project, if you will.

They're transitioning her to the toddler room this week at daycare. I wouldn't have minded keeping her in the infant room forever - they love her almost as much as I do and teared up when they found out she's being transitioned. They actually transitioned younger children ahead of Weezie because her teachers (with only a teeny bit of encouragement from me) plotted to keep her in the infant room. It was rather comical, actually. Any time the daycare director walked into the room, they would pick Weezie up as if she were still a helpless little infant. I guess the helpless act wasn't working anymore when Reese started shaking her finger at them and saying "no, no, no!". I finally faced the reality that she has outgrown the the room and needs more stimulation and approved the daycare moving her up.

She's spent the last two afternoons with the older children, and she's doing really well. They have music classes and go to the playground twice a day, and I think she's having a lot of fun (ok, I admit I've snuck over there to check on her. Once. Maybe twice.) I can't help but think, however, that it's a slippery slope from the toddler room to graduating and going off to college... Waaahhhh!!!

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

Well I blinked, and Weez turned 1. How did that happen? I swear it was just yesterday that I was politely asking my angel of mercy (read: anesthesiologist) for just "a little extra" in my epidural.

What a bittersweet day for a momma. On one hand, I'm celebrating the anniversary of the day I was blessed with the sweetest, smartest, funniest, adorablest baby in the world. On the other, it's a reminder that she won't always be a little baby... that cuddles from mommy won't always make things better. I wonder if I put her in a shoebox if I can keep her little forever. You know, like fish, that only grow as big as their tank allows. She'll look a little funny, but she'll still be my itty-bitty baby.

We're having her party on January 7th as it's easier to get people together on a weekend other than New Year's weekend. I expect we'll be doing that every year since her birthday is so close to both Christmas and New Year's eve. On her birthday, proper, however, we took her to Chuck E. Cheese's. I figured that even if she couldn't ride the rides, she'd enjoy watching the other children. I guessed right - she had a blast. She was literally squealing with delight, and they even had a few toddler rides for her (though her favorite part of the rides was pushing the change button to get change. Did I mention she's just like her dad?)

Christmas Redux

We had a lovely Christmas this year. Jim's family traditionally has a Christmas Eve celebration, rather than Christmas day, so it works out well for splitting Weezie time between the two sets of grandparents for the holidays.

I brought Weez over in her pretty black velvet dress, white stockings, and patent leather Mary Janes so we could snap a few pictures in front of the tree. She looked just like a little doll! After pics, we changed her into her Christmas long-johns so the fun could begin! She seemed to have a great time. As typical with most children her age, she loved all the paper and ribbons most. She did seem to really like some of her new toys, though. I think her favorite is an Elmo boombox. She pushes the buttons to play songs, and she'll sway and flap her arms like she's dancing. How freaking cute is that?! When I helped her open it, I found myself saying, "Look Weezie! It's Elmo and Dorothy, and Mr. Noodle!". Wow, how my life has changed!

We went over to my parents' home for the traditional Vietnamese Christmas meal of lasagna and garlic bread ;-) It was really nice spending time with my family, and Weez had a blast being the center of attention. She is quite the ham-bone. She definitely gets that from Jim!

All in all, Weezie's first Christmas was wonderful, and I was reminded how blessed I am with my dear friends and family.

Coming up for air....

The movers are coming tomorrow, and we're nowhere near finished packing.

I've resorted to giving stuff away. I dropped off ten garbage bags of clothes at the local charity thrift store and freecycled 20 pairs of shoes, a phone charger, 3 lb hand weights, 4 1-gallon bags of travel toiletries, a broom vac, and, this was a hard one to give a up, my cherished Duran Duran poster. Sniff...

Oh, did I say this house was for sale?

I'm taking a little mini-break from packing (in other words, I'm procrastinating). We put our house on the market in October...basically for shits & grins. If we happened to sell it, then great... if not, we're in no hurry to move. Our realtor told us that if it didn't sell by November, it wouldn't sell until Spring because Winter is a dead time. We were just about to take it off the market when a buyer came in one weekend and submitted a contract the next day.

Oh shit.

That pretty much summarizes my reaction. I have mixed emotions about the move (note the reference to just myself. Jim is ecstatic - think Scrooge McDuck swimming in his money vault). While I'm glad we sold the house, I already had visions in my head about Weez's first Christmas and first birthday here. I love this place, and it would have been nice for Weez to have memories of growing up here. Oh, well, I guess as long as we're together as a family it doesn't really matter where we live.

I'm now in the process of trying to figure out how to cram 3000sq. ft worth of belongings into 1400sq.ft. We plan to build another home on a lot we own in the same neighborhood, but in the interim we're moving to an apartment. In the past two weeks, I've had to find movers, storage, a place to live, and a new home for Mr. Biggs. Needless to say, everyone's getting gift cards this Christmas.

Once we're finished with the move, I'll be a little more excited about planning the next house. Right now I'm teetering on the brink trying to keep it together...

I Hope this Doesn't Warp Our Daughter...

I have a confession. While we still occasionally call Bean, "Bean", a new moniker has taken over.

We call our sweet, angelic, doe-eyed beauty... Weasel. And she answers to it. It all started when her dear cousin referred to her as "Baby Weese", and it went downhill from there. I didn't realize how much we used that nickname until a girlfriend exclaimed when we showed up at her house, "Oh, you brought Weasel!".

So, our dirty little secret is out. I see years of therapy ahead of the Weez.

Snoooze....

I stayed in bed until 9:45 this morning. Wow - I can't remember the last time I stayed in bed that late - certainly not since Bean was born. She woke up at 7, and Jim brought her to bed with us. If we're lucky, she'll fall back asleep for a bit after she eats. Unfortunately, this morning she decided to play her new favorite game -- "Smack Mommy in the Face and When She Moves, Grab Her Face as Hard as Your Chubby Little Hand Can Squeeze".

Jim took her downstairs to play with her so I could steal a little more sleep. I didn't wake up until 9:30, and I laid in bed listening to the sounds of my husband playing with our daughter - silly songs interspersed with running, squealing, and crashing sounds. It's moments like this when I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

I finally went downstairs, and Jim had a big pot of coffee ready for me. We chat about our plans for today (not much since Bean has a bit of a cough), and then he says, in a serious voice you would use to tell someone you're going to an IRS audit meeting, "Oh, I need to go watch the UT-A&M game today at Texadelphia."

Hmmm, coincidence? In any case, I still feel pretty darn lucky :)

When the Cat's Away, the Mice Will Play...

We had a wedding to attend Saturday night, so I dropped off Bean at my parents' for an overnight. She absolutely loves my parents and has spent several successful overnights with them (including a 3-night stay when I went to Rachele's wedding).

While I adore my little Bean, it's nice to have an evening out sans poopy-maker. I partied like a rock star! Okay, so I only had 2 drinks and snuck a couple of cigarettes, but it was nice to get out. Of course I'm afraid I've become one of *those* moms that just can't stop talking about their kid. Can you blame me? ;-)

Yes, I'm a slacker...

Rachele posted a link to Fear and Trembling on her blog, so I felt compelled to make an update. It's been exactly three months since my last post. Sad, eh? So in the last three months, Bean has:

- learned how to wave "bye bye"
- developed three more teeth
- said her first real word. Nope, not Mama. Not Dada. Doggie. "Dah dah" to be exact. I hope Mr. Biggs' heart is warmed.

She has yet, however, learned how to crawl properly. At 10.5 months old, well, let's just say she's a little slow. Literally.

Her pedi said that we don't need to worry yet as she's doing wonderfully otherwise, but it does make me a wee bit anxious that she doesn't crawl yet. Her cousin (my cousin's daughter) was born just a day earlier and is already walking. Oh, well, Bean is much cuter ;-)

Oh yeah? Well your momma dresses you funny...

Bean has been consistently in the 45-50th percentile in height/weight since birth. Not teensy, but certainly not an overly large child according to the charts. To put her size in perspective, she's 7.5 months old and still wearing 3-6months outfits with room to spare.

Yet not a day goes by without me hearing some variation of, "She's so big!" or, "she certainly doesn't miss a meal, does she?" One of my coworkers actually said, "She's a fat one, eh?" Um, excuse me while I set my daughter down so I can kick your ass.

Hellooooo, people! She's a BABY! Have you not heard the term "baby fat"?!? It's not "baby skin-and-bones", it's "baby F-A-T". Bah.

Uh-Oh, Don't Tell Jim...

Beanie is growing so fast... It seems like yesterday I brought my tiny little mouse home, and overnight she's turned into a veritable little person. She has not one, but two (!) teeth and is eating cereal, fruits and veggies. She's even moved to sleeping in her crib in her nursery - a far cry from the little limpet that had to sleep in our bed just a few months ago.

Jim and I haven't decided yet if we're having more children. Our little family of three just seems so perfect, and, admittedly, I'm afraid that our second child won't be as incredibly awesome as Bean. Lately, though, with Bean practically signing up for her SAT's, I'm starting to get the urge to have another baby. I know, lock me up now!

Let's hope driving ability is not hereditary...

So back in the day, I used to drive a spiffy two-seater roadster convertible... When we found out we were having Bean, I knew my days of zipping around town with the top down were numbered. All in all, a fair trade.

I've been driving what I call not-so-affectionately, "the dog car". It's the car we use to transport the dogs, and, well, smells like dog. I've been repeatedly pointing out to Jim that this car was just beneath Bean ("What will her friends think?"), and I regaled him with stories of how much she hated the car, how the ride was uncomfortable, how she really, really wanted to ride in a different car. If it were just me, I emphatically told him, the dog car would be perfectly fine. I am only thinking of Bean!

Well, my dear, sweet, wonderful husband surprised me this past weekend with a brand new car - just the one I told him Bean wanted! He made a crack about wondering when I'd have my first accident in it. Those other times were not my fault, I cried defensively. That pole just jumped in front of me! Oh, and that time I rear-ended that truck - well, he made a sudden stop and I couldn't help it! The time I backed into that Audi? Well, they shouldn't have parked on the side of the road RIGHT across from my driveway!

Suffice it to say, Jim didn't have to wait long. Ladies and gentlemen, on the SECOND day I drive my brand-spankin', fresh off the boat, still-smells-like-new-car SUV, I scrape the sideview mirror while going through a toll both...

"It wasn't my fault, really! The lane was obviously too narrow. I mean, the sign said, "Narrow lane, cars only!"

I'm not sure why Jim looked at me funny when I said that....

Yeeeeoooowww! Part II

Well it happened... She bit me. With teeth.

More of Bean to love...

At Beanie's 6 month checkup, she weighed in at 16lbs on the nose. Less than a week later, I brought her back to the doctor to check out a mysterious rash I was convinced was life-threatening. She had gained 12 oz in six days!

I should have known she was going through a growth spurt because our normally sweet little angel has been quite the cranky-pants. The last two nights, she's decided we were getting too much sleep for our own good and took matters into her own hands (or rather, lungs). I'm convinced this is some sort of cosmic retribution for bragging about how I have such a great baby. She's still a great baby... just a very loud one.

Her Father's Daughter...

As I was stroking Beanie's hair today , I noticed... a few blonde hairs. Say it isn't so!

At least she has my brown eyes...

Not that I'm biased or anything...

... but Beanie is pretty damn cute. I know every mom thinks that her child is adorable, but Bean really is. I've seen a couple of kids that I acknowledged were as cute as Bean, so obviously I have an impartial eye!