17 Months

In honor of the Bean's 17th-month birthday, I thought I'd change up my monthly post a bit and depict "A Day in the Life." Really, it's easier than trying to compile every little detail (that I love) about her. Too many new words, funny anecdotes, new favorites to try and draw on.

A Day in the Life - Sunday, August 18, 2013

7:15 a.m.

I hear the Bean calling out for us - lucky me, it's the 3rd day in a row we have all sleep past 7! Alex goes to retrieve her from her crib and she cries "mamamama" as he walks her into our room. "Muh, muh, muh" she insists for milk. She never says anything just once. We all lay in bed together cuddling, and she nurses for about 10 minutes while intermittently pulling off to chat with me - saying "buhbuh" and showing me her belly button in her too-tight, too-short shirt with her little-big-belly hanging out for all to see - or she takes nursing breaks to give me kisses (when I demand them) - or to point to "dada" excitedly, as though she's surprised that he's still in bed with us, as he is every single morning all summer long. I harass her with kisses and tummy tickles, and say "good morning," as she responds "mo nee." The points to Alex's nipple and says "muh," and we, once again, explain to her that those are Daddy's boobies, but that they don't have any milk.

7:30 a.m.

"Mmmmmmmm. Mmmmmmmm. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!" Must be time for bfast. Clearly, the Bean is hungry. No more cuddles, but that means it's time for waffles!!! No family I've ever known eats nearly as many waffles in a year as we eat in a week. Seriously. Thanks for the best present ever, in-laws. Life has not been the same since acquiring our waffle maker. But before we even make it out of bed, the Bean bombards us with requests for books. Baby Beluga. Down by the Bay. Are You My Mother. Again, again, and again. "Buh! Up! Puhpuh! Buh. Baaaahboooo!" (Translation = Book! Up (onto the bed)! Please! Book. Baby Beluga!)

 

8:15 a.m.

After terrorizing the dog by following him everywhere and tugging at his tail, and a few renditions of Goodnight Gorilla ("rara") we sit down to eat the delicious vegan-whole-wheat-waffles that have become our breakfast staple. Did I mention we like our waffles around here?

 

9 am

Park time. We walk the dog and the baby to April Hill Park for one of our thrice daily jaunts to swing, slide, and "hahk" (translation = hike) around the grass. We run into several neighbors on the way there, at the park itself, and again on the way home. It's like Melrose Place around here. Without all the drama. And with babies. And toddlers. And dogs. This is breeder territory, people. Seriously, this is where all the middle class folks came to buy their first house and raise their families. Some have been here two months, others have been here 20 years.

10 a.m.
We finally make it home from the park. The Bean is eager to give Nesta his "tuts" (translation = treats). We consider putting the Bean down for an early nap, so that she can be well-rested before our lunchtime picnic plans, but she doesn't show any signs of being tired yet. We just lounge in the living room and watch "baby tv" (translation = this is where Francie runs laps through the kitchen, begs us to read more books, or otherwise entertains us with random toddler shenanigans).

10:30 a.m.

So I guess she's tired after all, I nurse her to sleep in less than 5 minutes. So guess how this mama wants to spend her free time? Organizing! I've been so desperate to finish putting the living room back together (after painting it months ago), and to attempt yet another furniture arrangement. My handsome husband assists me in re-hanging our large mirror, moving our TV to the corner, relocating the big borrowed chair, and hanging new-old windows on the wall that will eventually house old maps. He's been so busy building that patio that he hasn't had the time and or energy to follow ALL of my orders, but humors me today.

11:45 a.m.
We are supposed to be in West Linn in 15 minutes, so as we start to get ready we make extra noise in hopes of waking the baby without deliberately waking the baby. No such luck. So then we go all creepy style next to her crib and just stare at her, willing her to wake up naturally. Our voodoo magic works, and she's happy to boot.

12:30 p.m.
We join a whole crew of WLHS Class of 2000 peeps who are all part of a Facebook group a friend started called "Lions and Friends," for those of us who are now in the mommy circle. We eat PB&J, mingle with friends and former classmates, introducing our very mobile little Bean to anyone she can take a second or two to pay attention to.

1:30 p.m.
She loves the park. She obsessively goes "up" and says "yeah" to all questions regarding the swing. At some point she becomes the nakey baby, disrobing down to her cloth diaper and tentatively walks through the fountain. It's a warm Sunday and Hammerle Park is very busy with young families. Francie calls for "dada" anytime Alex is more than 10 feet away.

3:30 p.m.
We finally arrive back home, after a short and failed attempt at my favorite antique/thrift shop in downtown Oregon City. Alex still needs a few screws before re-hanging the mirror, and the Bean take this opportunity to admire herself.

4 p.m.

Coloring and more "baby tv" (see previous translation).

4:30 p.m.
More nakey baby time with the kiddie pool on our fabulous new patio. "Buh buh!" Everybody loves a good belly button.

 4:45 p.m.
Dancing on the table with mama. The Bean likes herself some Macklemore.

5 p.m.

More books.

5:30 p.m.

Alex bikes to the store to get supplies to BBQ for dinner. Francie starts to show signs of fatigue - asking for "muh" (translation = milk).

5:50 p.m.
Another poopy diaper. Too many blueberries! She's a girl on the go - clean diaper? Check. Laps around the kitchen? Check. Kidney bean snack? Check.

6:30 p.m.
We strap her into her high chair for dinner. She tolerates about 2.5 minutes before playfully throwing all of her food across the dining room. I think she just made the world record for 1.5 year old bean toss. Unfortunately, Nesta does not help us to clean up this kind of food.

6:45 p.m.

Bath time for Beano!

6:55 p.m.

We putter around upstairs, making piles of clothes, putting away toys. Alex reads her Down by the Bay, I nurse and cuddle her for just a few minutes before laying her down in her crib with her Wubbanub. She cries for about 2.2 seconds and I blow her a kiss goodnight.

7:30 p.m.

According to our spycam, she's now fast asleep.

8 p.m. ...

TV time, prep for the week, shower and get ready for bed, read. And there'll be no middle-of-the-night posting because, thank goodness, our child mostly sleeps through the night now. Shloff gute! (translation = butchered German for sleep well).