This is a whopping 14 minutes long, but in my defense, I haven't done a video in 2 months. As soon as I finished editing and uploading it, I remembered about fifteen other things I meant to talk about!
A year ago, I was 40 weeks pregnant.
I couldn't imagine any kind of life but a pregnant life. I jotted down interesting things to talk about in my pregnancy vlogs as they came to me and read my YouTube comments and e-mails all day. I waddled to work, plopped at my desk, googled any pregnancy questions I had and ordered greasy chicken tenders from the cafeteria twice in the afternoons. I sat in the middle of the plush, blue rug in Carter's nursery at night wondering what it would be like to actually use all the baby gear surrounding me. I scowled at my closet - my maternity jeans didn't fit anymore, and any possibility of dressing like a cute, pregnant girl was long gone. In the back of my mind, I knew somewhere along the line, I'd turned into one of those large pregnant ladies. I watched strangers ogling at my belly and wondered if they realized they were 1 second away from the borderline of flat out rudeness.
I hadn't thought much about the world of mom-ness that was about to hit me. I knew I was getting a baby, and that was the most I was focused on. I'd read other people's accounts of getting through pregnancy and the first year with a baby. But the concept of mom vs. toddler was so far away ... so far, in fact, I wasn't exactly sure it would ever really happen. I remember wanting a baby so badly, I couldn't stand it. I overlooked the fact that the baby I'd obsessed over holding would turn into a toddler. A kid. My kid.
So, here I am. A year later and Carter's on the verge of toddlerdom; next Wednesday he'll be one, and in a couple weeks he'll be a full fledged walker. I can't hide in the shade under the new mom umbrella anymore ... I have a feeling I should at least look like I know what I'm doing by now.
I spent 40 weeks researching the ins and outs of pregnancy and learning about infants. This past year was such a blur and so incredibly jam-packed that there wasn't time for analyzing the make up of a toddler. I feel blind. I feel unprepared. And yet here it comes. I have a slight feeling there will be tears on his birthday. Not baby tears, though. Mommy tears.
Today we had another house showing, so the
three five of us (yep, we bring the cats out with us every time) went to get lunch.
Making our way through the Chipotle line, the manager sees Carter planted on Matt's hip, points out how awesome he is and asks his age.
Standard question, right? You hear it all the time. Normally we tell them, x-amount of months, and watch their faces as they calculate and compare the age to babies they might personally know. Except this time Matt doesn't answer, Eleven months. He answers, Almost a year.
Shouldn't we have had a meeting about this answer before you were allowed to use it? Is he really almost a year?
Yes, he is. I'm freaked out. His age will be a celebration, but it's confusing to also feel so sad and panicky knowing I'll never see my grunty, squeaky, wiggly infant again.
Yesterday our house officially hit the market; we came home from the grocery store to find a lock box on our doorknob and a giant sale sign in our bedroom window.
Today I woke up excited, fully expecting to be bombarded by phone calls telling us to leave so someone could come
invade check out our house. It's 4 p.m., and my phone lights up with nothing but Facebook alerts.
I'm starting my own campaign that's sure to snag a buyer. I call it the baby strategy.
Carter says, Please, buy my house.
First, he sets up his sign.
Sunday we were at our annual German festival, and I took Carter on his first hay ride with his cousins. I'm going to say he liked it.
He was on the verge of being napless and didn't want to be held or put down. You know how those days go - especially when you're at an event in the middle of the afternoon.
The hayride calmed him down. At least I'm hoping it was the thrill of the bumpy ride and not the gas fumes from the back of the tractor blowing in our faces.
Don't mind my humidity-battered hair. I know, it looks identical to the hay we're sitting on.
Since we started solids seven months ago, Carter seemed to hate everything he was offered. I just assumed he was a super picky eater as I threw away container after container of spoiled, uneaten baby food.
Two weeks ago everything changed. We conquered that highly sought after concept all parents strive for from the minute they leave the hospital. Carter's sleeping through the night (Well, mostly. Sometimes he'll get up once). After eleven months, I truly didn't think we'd ever get there. I'd just accepted that I'd be up nursing every three hours, 24 hours a day until he went to college.
And that's when everything changed ... and I don't just mean that he suddenly eats. Obviously, he eats food during the day now because he's not up eating all night (duh, Meghann!). His attitude is different. He's easier to negotiate with. He's not clingy all day long; he seems to even like playing with his toys by himself. He blows more kisses. It just seems like his brain is functioning better.
Life feels like it's reaching normalcy. I'm not exhausted all day anymore, so the house stays cleaner. It's easier to enforce naps on a schedule. Carter and I are so much happier together with some solid sleep in our pockets.
Yesterday we went to a party at Matt's friend's house to watch hundreds of bikes race at top speed in laps around the neighborhood. An impressive wind blew at our hair every time they whirled past us.
We came late, opting to miss the homemade roast beef sandwiches, root beer floats and kids' craft table in favor of letting Carter squeeze an extra half an hour into his midmorning nap.
It seemed he was interested in more exciting things than giant groups of colorful, racing bikes, anyway. Like say, other babies. Or bananas. Or blades of green grass.
Matt held a younger woman. Carter actually got jealous and was batting at her with his hand (aka, hitting her. I soo didn't want to use that word in the same sentence as my baby Carter's name). I, on the other hand, L♥VED the sight of my husband holding a little baby again!
We got home four hours later. Since when did this baby become so defiant? He's getting picky about being held ... when, how, why and who all have to be perfectly in sync.
The time came to give up my candied apple red, two door sports car this past weekend. It was our third car, and we haven't driven it since before Carter was born. Since we're moving in six weeks, we knew we had to sell it - asap.
Before delivering to its new owner on Saturday, we let Carter sit in it and relish in its shiny, sexy red glory. Is it just me, or is his face ridden with a look of complete disappointment?
You can't say you never had anything cool, Cart!
The countdown to his first birthday can officially begin! Eleven fun facts about my 11 month old:
1. When we're shopping, he points at everything and quietly calls it a Boosh.
2. Diaper and clothes changes are an all out war
3. He has trouble sitting still in shopping carts.
4. He'll blow a kiss on command. Unless, a lot of people are watching.
5. He has an obsession with closing doors, laptops, cabinets, books and anything else that's closable.
6. When there's food in his mouth, he refuses to allow any other food in until he's completely (and slowly) swallowed that first bite.
7. He loves looking around for strangers and calling out for their attention when we're eating out.
8. When I put him in his crib, he knows it's time to sleep. He rarely cries at bedtime anymore.
9. Balls are bah, books are bah, boats are bah, kitties are tee.
10. When he doesn't want what we're feeding him, he puts his hands over his eyes and ducks his head down.
11. He knows how to turn on an iphone. He'll sit and turn it on and off for an hour.