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See? Told ya!

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Teething

My poor little lady is cutting more teeth than any child should ever cut at one time! Her poor little nose is running, her eyes are watery and she’s sticking anything and everything in her mouth. Her ears bug her when she teethes, so she walks around with one finger firmly stuck in each ear. She vaguely reminds me of Shrek!

She’s a bit more whiny, sensitive and cuddly than normal, but she’s still in a great mood and laughing up a storm!

Weaning

For the last three out of five nights, Cheeks has slept through the night without waking to nurse. I’m not sure if teething is wearing her out and she’s more exhausted or if she’s begun to night wean. Either way, both her and I are getting a little extra sleep each night and you just can’t beat that!

Sleeping

We’ve been trying to transition Cheeks onto her own mattress for a few months now. Granted, it’s been a half-hearted process! I nurse her to sleep, snuggle her for a bit and then put her on her own mattress once she’s good an out. Typically, she would wake around two a.m. to nurse and half the time I’d put her back onto her own mattress and half the time I just went back to sleep and left her in our bed.

The last few nights, I’ve woken up to her in some pretty interesting positions! One morning, she was laying on her back and had her entire body on her mattress, but her head was using our mattress as a pillow! One morning I woke up and she was in a similar position, but she was on her belly and she had her tiny little face right next to mine, on my pillow.

I don’t think she quite understands what we’re trying to accomplish. Instead of her spending more and more time on her own mattress, she’s been putting more and more of her body on her mattress!

Exhibit A: (the solid-colored sheet on the right is covering our mattress, the pink sheet with stripes is covering Cheeks’ mattress.)

Exhibit B:

Last night she was fast asleep by about nine p.m. She woke up with some teething pain (or gas?? or tummy pain??) at ten thirty and I nursed her back to sleep. Once she was out (about ten minutes later), I put her on her own mattress.  Not only did she sleep through the night, without waking to nurse, but she stayed on her own mattress!

I’m not ready.

Yes. Yes I am!

No. I’m not ready. Not ready at all.

Yes! It’s time, if she’s ready, I’m ready!

Growing up is hard to do!

A mother’s arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.
-Victor Hugo

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Today is a seriously bad mommy day!

Let me preface this by saying my child is the slowest teether known to exist. From the moment we can see where a spot is getting red and inflamed, it takes about ten point five years for an actual tooth to break through. I’m serious.

Currently, she is preparing to break four million teeth at once. Ok, so maybe it’s just four, but it FEELS like four million. Therefore, she’s in rare “lookout world” form to begin with.

She’s also a climber. In the time it takes me to open the washing machine door and grab a wet load of clothes, she has already opened the (front loading) door to the dryer and climbed inside. Needless to say, the laundry room door is always kept closed.

She HAS TO BE buckled into her highchair or she WILL attempt to crawl out.

The chairs MUST BE pushed in around the table or she will climb onto them and pull herself onto the top of the table.

Toilet lids must be kept closed.

Pet food and water dishes must be kept out of her reach.

And yes, I have resorted to duct taping the pantry doors closed so she doesn’t constantly pull anything and everything she can off the shelves when given two seconds of time.

She’s a toddler. She’s busy. She’s inquisitive. She likes to challenge me.

Today is no exception.

This morning I let the dog out and went to swap out the laundry. Per usual, Cheeks stood by the door, repeatedly calling the dog’s name. On my way back to let the dog in, I realized immediately that Cheeks was gone.

Yes.

Gone.

She was nowhere to be found.

I looked in the house. No Cheeks.

I think my heart actually stopped beating.

I looked in the garage (the dog goes out through the garage to the poop pen/area in the backyard.) No Cheeks.

I think I actually stopped breathing, at this point.

Going against my “there’s no way she actually went THROUGH the garage to the dog pen” voice of reason, I ran through the garage and found her.

In the dog pen.

Wearing only a onesie and socks.

In the doorway between the garage and the backyard.

Standing in the snow.

Laughing.

I scooped her up and brought her inside. When I put her down, she ran to the door and OPENED IT BY HERSELF and tried to walk out. She’s finally tall enough (and strong enough) to actually open the door. Needless to say, it’s now locked at all times.

I distracted her desire to go back outside with lunch.

Once lunch was over, I took her to the back of the house to put her little buddy to bed. She followed me into the room, as usual, and I began to change little buddy’s diaper and put him into his crib.

Cheeks left the room. I closed the door against little buddy’s protests and made a pit stop to go potty. I washed my hands and walked down the hallway, through the family room and into the kitchen.

Do you want to guess where my child was?

She had climbed INSIDE the highchair and was finishing up the food her little buddy had left behind.

Now, in order to do this, she had to pull out the kitchen chair, climb on top of the kitchen table and then climb into the highchair.

I think I gained twelve more gray hairs in half a second flat!

This kid is fast. She’s calculated.

There’s just one thing I can’t figure out, would duct tape or velcro work better at keeping her permanently attached to me?!?!

I love this stage! It keeps me on my toes and gives me a great deal to laugh about!

I swear she thinks up ways to challenge me in her sleep!

A baby is an inestimable blessing and bother.
-Mark Twain

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Sunday is my day to get up with the kids. (Ash takes Saturday mornings!) Usually it’s me and both girls because Bubba sleeps until late morning when he’s here.

This weekend was a rare one. We didn’t have to drive anywhere and Cheeks was the sole little person hanging arround.

Therefore, we had a “mommy and me” morning. I put on the coffee, filled her cup with water and stuck some cinnamon rolls in the oven. After letting the dog out twice and changing a diaper, they were done.

I plopped Cheeks onto the countertop and taught her how to lick the frosting lid.

We enjoyed breakfast together and played in the land of Little People. This little girl has the most amazing laugh.

I’m working up the motivation to take down our Christmas decor, but sitting in the couch, crochetting and watching my little trouble seeking imp is much more enjoyable!

Saturdays are always so busy for us, I devour these quiet mornings with my girl. How could I not?

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I’d like to be the ideal mother, but I’m too busy raising my kids.
-Author Unknown

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OK, so we’ve obviously decided to do the whole Santa thing with Cheeks. We’ll let her believe and foster her imagination about Santa (even though I will never outright state he’s an actual real human being.)

We’ll put out Diet Pepsi and red velvet cupcakes on Christmas Eve.

We’re cutting down our own tree.

We’ve been to the mall to have Cheeks’ photo taken with the fat man.

We’ve agreed to do stockings for Saint Nick Night and not on Christmas.

We’ve established our Advent rituals for this year and next year.

We bought our yearly gingerbread house to put together with the kids.

We’re rocking the hell out of Christmas this year.

But we have one final (hopefully) dilemma in regards to combinding our individual traditions and establishing OUR family rituals….

Namely, presents.

With my kids, I always buy them Christmas gifts from me and I wrap them up and put them under the tree. On Christmas Eve, after the kids are asleep, “Santa” leaves them additional gifts, wrapped in different paper.

Ash grew up with an empty tree that “Santa” filled up on Christmas Eve. There were no presents exchanged between her and her mom. Everything was from “Santa”.

While this is all well and good, there are certain sentimental gifts I believe will mean more coming from MOM, rather than the fat guy.

For instance, this year Cheeks is getting a really nice (read: jewelry store purchase complete with box, bow AND gift bag with tissue paper) charm bracelet with four starter charms.

When she’s sixteen and someone compliments her on it, I don’t want her to say, “Santa got it for me when I was little.”

I want her to know it’s from our hearts. I want her to know it’s a way to celebrate who she is with appropriate and meaningful charms every year at Christmas and on her birthday.

See the dilemma?

How do you handle Santa and gift giving with your kids? Help some moms out!

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