dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding

Dearest girl,

Today you are 5. The last five years...that's a musical, you know.  It doesn't work in this case because it's about a broken heart. It's about a love shown backwards to the audience, that way it breaks their hearts too. Which you know me, you know I like that stuff. Because it's real. Plus Jason Robert Brown wrote the music so it's quality.

I like things that are real. The last five years have been the most real of my 35.  I came to the NICU to feed you and see you and breathe you in and the lady saw me at the locked door through the tiny window and told her colleague: "it's Sloane's mom, open the door." I'd never been anything but "Shannon" and from that moment when you were just a day old I never was "just Shannon" again.

So the last five years have been full of heartache and regret and anxiety.  I married your dad. I tried for many years with him (before you came and after) to make us work and we couldn't.  My heart broke. I divorced your dad. And nothing during any of that was worth much to me unless it was a measurement of your happiness.  So, I felt like a ratty mom. A mom who gave up on keeping her child's family together. I felt selfish.  But slowly because of you I rebuilt my shaky confidence in my motherhood. Every time you'd put your chubby hands out to me I grew a little bit stronger. "Your beauty trumped my doubt." (it's a lyric by Mumford and Sons, there's always a lot of supplemental reading when it comes to your mother's writing).

So it wasn't perfect. But somewhere I had and still have this dream in me that our happiness isn't mutually exclusive. And in fact that if you didn't have a mother who could be happy you could never learn to be happy either. And I think a lot about that hymn from when I was a little girl that we would sing in church and I hope it's true: "farther along we'll know all about it, farther along we'll understand why. Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine, we'll understand it all by and by."

There are people who will tell you when you are older that you shouldn't have regrets, or that they in fact don't have any regrets.  I will tell you that if you become a parent this idea is utter bullshit.

I have one million regrets and they are all, every single one (besides everything I did in the year 2001) about you. They stem from how I could've made you happier, or how I could have prevented you from hurting.

I try to best navigate by how to make you not only feel happy but how to help you turn into someone who is kind and intelligent, a woman who doesn't fear any part of herself, a person who passionately seeks but who is not too involved with herself to help others find.  It's hard to navigate. I mess up a lot. You'll know soon: I'm bad at maps, directions, and even Siri gets me lost sometimes.

Until I figure out the next step though, I have a constant companion. You sing silly made up songs a lot of the time, some mornings you are quite grumpy, some days you tell me you don't want to live with me (some of those days I don't want to live with me either), but when you are away the sound of the quiet is different. The quiet when you are asleep is a blissful quiet, sweet and colored with the exhaustion from going through another day together. The quiet when you are gone feels like a humid room. It gives me time to think about all the missteps and how to correct my navigation and it makes me count the hours until the quiet is replaced with your voice.

For everything that ever hurt or will hurt, I am sorry. I promise I think of you more than you will ever know. I am prouder of you than anything I've ever achieved.  And I love you more than I love anyone else including myself.

Happy birthday, all I want for you is everything good and many, many more.  

Love,

Mama

the title is from a song by ani difranco, I hope there is a woman musician who does for you what she did for your mommy a long time ago...the song is called The Slant. The full lyric is this:

I am a work in progress
dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding
offering me intricate patterns of questions
rhythms that never come clean
and strengths that you still haven't seen

first we admit our mistakes, then we open our eyes

Dear Sloane, 

One thing I knew about myself before you were born is that I have a mouth on me. I knew that I was going to have a hard time not firing it off if someone hurt you.  One thing I didn't know before you were born (long before) was that I was going to have a non-white child.  I was going to have a child who was not born automatically with the societal white privilege I was born with.

And now you are here.  And the thought of someone hurting you with their words, actions or ideas brings a tangible ache to my heart.  But the thought of someone hurting you because you are black makes my blood boil.

Our little city has been in the news lately.  Not for a good reason.  But because one of our elected officials made many racist statements.  And since I heard what happened my blood has been on a rapid boil.

Today I did what I hope to raise you to do.  I wrote 3 letters to the three officials who can make a change to the leadership.

Dear County Commissioners Price & Duncan, 
I was so embarrassed and disappointed to hear what transpired in your discussion on April 2nd. I am from Saline county and have always been a proud Kansan. I chose to move my family back to Salina after living in Kansas City for the past few years. One point that my husband, an African-American, was concerned about was the lack of diversity and lack of acceptance for him and our daughter if we moved to Salina. I, frankly thought his idea was ludicrous. The city I call "home" was not a place that I considered lacking in respect for people of color, even if the ratio of people of color was lower than our home in Kansas City. After awhile my husband was charmed with the smaller city feel of Salina and by what he considered to be a safer place to raise our daughter. 
I am disappointed and embarrassed that an elected official in this county is trying to prove me wrong. His words and evident ideas about people are threatening that safety we felt existed for our daughter. Because you see Mr. Commissioners, crime is not the only thing that threatens safety. Ideas and attitudes can be just as threatening. 
I believe as a public citizen that language is important, but for an elected official you are held to an even higher standard, your language sirs is paramount. Mr. Gile used three terms that are offensive (one within his public apology) and shouldn't ever "slip" from someone's mouth. If those words and ideas aren't in your heart & mind they will not "slip" from your tongue. 
And even more sickening, when he clarified the term "n-rigging" he said "Afro-Americanized". And laughter was heard on the recording. Later he said he meant "jury-rigging", but if he had then why would he not clarify at the moment that is what he meant, rather than "Afro-Americanized"? 
I hope you do the right thing. The voters and the children of this community and quite frankly the nation are watching how you react to this. 
A concerned citizen, wife, mother and voter, 
Shannon (last name & address)

And tomorrow if change doesn't come, I will continue.  Not just for you, but for you in large part.

Now mama's going to try to turn it down to a simmer, she's got other work to do too...But I want to tell you something that a man far more eloquent (and even-tempered than I am) said about this kind of thing.

I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. That is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr

Love you,
Mama

lyrics courtesy of Ani Difranco (mama and advocate herself) Subdivision

You can lead the way

Dearest,

I admit it.  I am a sucker. A mindless consumer trying desperately to try to be mindful of all things "How to raise a ________ (insert awesome characteristic here) daughter."  I know there are worse things I could be addicted to but it's so important to me  us that we teach you that being a girl is not what the media tries to sell you these days (which is to say that your only purpose in life is to be attractive and loved by men, but not TOO many men).

So when you were born I read all the studies about television and media.  Turns out the whole thing is a bunch of crap, all of it.  There are even stereotypical gender roles in Sesame Street (gasp, I really love Sesame). So I began to face parental dilemma (for TV whores  addicts  aficionados like myself) TV or not?  How much TV and what? I opted for TV in moderation (selfishly as I can't eliminate from myself completely...how will I know what happens to Olivia and President Fitzgerald Grant?) So we found Sprout.  As a sorta-wanna-be-hippie/ster I love all things "public broadcast".  Sprout is produced by PBS.

Mostly you enjoyed the Pajanimals before bed and in the morning Sesame Street (specifically Elmo) and then you got the black plague of winter 2012 (that lasted into the new year).  And your TV watching increased in direct proportion to my exhaustion.

Your Sprout viewing expanded (it's PBS, it can't be bad, right?)  You found Caillou.  You loved his theme song.  You loved when the weird grandma narrator deciphered Caillou's cryptic emotions "Caillou's sad" (says the voice over while onscreen we see screaming, whining, crying Caillou).

Daddy and I thought Caillou's theme song was a little bratty  disrespectful when he states "growing up is not so tough, 'cept when I've had enough."  Had enough?  Had enough of what?!  You are 4!?  But we allowed you to continue your Caillou obsession.  While you had a double ear infection I let you watch Caillou most of the day (curse you On Demand) on the couch.

Since then something took hold in you...

see other parents agree with me

You started uttering the following phrases on the regular:

"Es too har" (it's too hard)

"Es not fair"  (the fair's in August kiddo)

As I watched Caillou with you in the morning recently I heard the bald headed tot say whine the same thing numerous times in only 24 minutes.  And I had a moment where I wanted to jump into Caillou's mom's strange clothing (is that Canadian style?) and give that little tot a piece of my mind.

One of those recently read tenets of raising a powerful girl (told you I love PBS) popped into my head:  "Encourage her to solve issues on her own rather than fixing things for her." Lately every time you said "mommy it's too hard" I would rush over to my poor baby and fix it.  "It's not fair" left me trying to reason with you about concepts far above your comprehension.  

So I made a unilateral parenting decision (your dad was at work).  I sent Caillou on a long vacation.  And introduced you to (the early seasons) of Dora.  I am glad to see you enjoying a female protagonist who loves to exclaim "We did it!".  And in the meantime we are working to deprogram the Caillou right out of you. Sayanora punk.

Of course we will help you if you can't, but we believe you can do it,

mama 
  
title courtesy of a much better theme song !Lo hicimos! We did it 

Shine it on my heart, so you could see the truth

Dear Sloane, 

On 12.14.12 you turned two years old.  The day started sad enough.  We drove into eastern Kansas to a tiny little church and a tiny little cemetery to attend the first funeral you would attend-- your great-grandma Pederson.  Your aunt Tay, uncle Matt and I unplugged ourselves from our social media outlets and from our phones to honor your great grandma Pederson's wonderful life. She was an 80 year old retired teacher but there was scarcely a place to sit in the church as she has touched so many lives. 

You were unaware of what was happening. We didn't go to the internment, I took you downstairs to play in the church nursery while the burial occurred.  You thought the dessert table at the dinner following the funeral was "happy day cake" for you.  

On our way home your aunt Maddy called uncle Matt. She was crying. She told us all what happened at an elementary school in Connecticut.  

It was your birthday.  
I was sad that I had to take you to a funeral.  
How selfish of me.

In the days since first hearing of the tragedy I realize so painfully that you are not guaranteed to me.  You are no more able to be possessed by me than a sunrise.  I am so powerless.  

I was able to protect you on your birthday. I will not always protect you, because I cannot.  

But I intend to tell you everything I can, while I can.  So many things went viral, quotes, anger, rage, blame and sadness.  The one thing that went viral that I love is the quote by Fred Rogers.  

Mr. Rogers was a show I loved when I was a little girl (just like you love Elmo & Abby Cadabby now).  

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers - so many caring people in this world.” — Mr. Rogers

 
I want to teach you that.  To look for the helpers. To be kind, even in the face of evil and fear.  

The day of your birth was still joyous, in spite of this. Because you were here on earth and that has never been, nor will ever be a guarantee.  

Love you to the moon & back, 
mama 

title courtesy of lyrics from Eric Clapton's Change the World

in my arms is where you ought to be

Dear Sloane, 

This month you turned 23 months old.  And although the time flew by in general when I think specifically about this month there were some long moments.  You are smart as a whip and you get mad so quickly some days it's hard to remain patient with you (as it is for you with us).  

There are so many things though that I wish I could bottle and keep about you right now.  You want to be a big girl so badly (and are becoming one so quickly).  I know that the baby traits you have will expire all to soon.  You still believe that a kiss can cure an ouchie.  You still request to be "wokked" (rocked) each night.  You still sleep in a crib (I will seriously kill punch anyone who tells you that it is possible to climb out of that thing).  

You talk non-stop (I am not exaggerating).  You are listening to everything everyone says, every song lyric and every TV commercial. 

You have identified your aunt Tay as the spoiler and now when something you want comes on TV you tell us that you want "aunt Tay buy".

Some of the cutest chubby baby things you say are:

dock-dock--- thank you

peas---please

nah-nee-love you

poon-spoon

fock-fock--- (hilarity usually ensues when you excitedly shout this!) Jayhawk

bammy---Grammy

nigh-nigh---goodnight

men---more

zebar-- zebra

ahk- Noah's ark

bow---rainbow

jeeduh---Jesus

ness--- nurse (your profession of choice for now)

 

You were not so sure about Halloween, you loved the idea of being a "bock bock" (chicken) but you do not like the feeling of being rushed (in the least) so you were unhappy to be shuffled along from house to house.  Also you weren't pleased that none of the houses we stopped at had "Enn Enns" (M&Ms).  You also began to sing (obnoxiously) "I want enn enns, I want enn enns" ad nauseum.  Your penchant for M&Ms was of course fulfilled by Grammy.  

Your chicken costume-- you were very conflicted about Halloween & it's traditions

 You did very well as the flower girl at the wedding.  After a while hiding behind the tent entrance you ambled slowly toward the front of the tent until you saw daddy and you said "Po!" (my nickname for your dad) and ran up to the front (never dropping a single flower petal) and greeted your daddy.  You had a great time at the reception and did not want it to end.  It had two of your favorite things: cake and dancing and ALL of your favorite people.

looking so grown up

happy & relaxed (and not the day of the wedding)

You are excited to blow out the candles and have cake and a Night Owl party ("hoot-hoot parree with a moon") next month.  I keep holding on to those last baby qualities because I know that I only get to hold you for so long (and it isn't long enough).

love you, 

mama


title courtesy of The Civil Wars: To Whom it may concern

we've got a lot to learn, God knows we're worth it

Dearest Sloane,

I have gotten a lot done for the wedding (which you call "mommy and daddy's party!) lately (out of pure necessity) as it is coming so quickly.  But the most interesting thing that I've encountered lately isn't on a blog, or on pinterest it's right in my face.

Every evening while I make supper (admittedly it's usually your fave toddler foods of the moment which make me cringe wondering if I am giving you too many nitrates -- in the form of hot dogs, or too much processed cheese in the form of Kraft) I watch The View.  I always talk to you about it because it's important to me that you see these women with their own talk show (a field that during my lifetime has always been dominated by males). 

On 9/12/12 I came home and got my daily dose of The View as I always do (even though I've had a love- hate relationship with it since it's inception...here I describe it as my 4th circle of hell, and here I write an open letter to it's wishy-washy never completely pro-woman women co hosts). 

Sometimes though I just LOVE what I hear on the show.  On 9/12/12 one of my favorite actresses was visiting the ladies: Amy Adams.  She is currently on tour for her new film Trouble with the Curve, which her costar is Clint Eastwood (who is currently abuzz with his empty-chair speech at the RNC).  They asked her if she saw the speech and she said she had not and that she was on a bit of an "internet diet". The co hosts inquired about this and she told them that only a few minutes into Facebook perusing she finds herself feeling sad about other people's vacations and time they spend together as a family as she is working a lot as of late.

Even though it's illogical I assumed that Amy Adams would be the one provoking jealousy on Facebook not succumbing to it. 

Then a few days later I got together with some friends and one of my close friends admitted to me that she is no longer reading any blogs (including mine) because it was causing her to compare herself to other people and making her feel like she was a bad parent (which she isn't, she's phenomenal, I made sure to tell her this in person as she is no longer a blog reader). 

Then I thought about all of this together, and about parenting you.  I do not want you to be like me.  I do not want you to be riddled with anxiety over every choice you make, trying to make everything PERFECT.  I do not want you checking into social media only to feel less than, or to feel like a failure that your child isn't eating quinoa and whole-wheat bagels happily while learning french.  Instead I want to enjoy our evenings together so that you will enjoy your time with me and that you will enjoy your time with your own child someday. 

I am sorry that I sometimes try to capture the perfect moment instead of living in the one we are given.

Here's to all the imperfection in our lives.  Mommy did not edit, or censor these in any way.  These are real...here's what we've been up to in month 20. 

Instead of focusing on what makes these pictures imperfect, I am just going to tell you that we had so much fun watching you be the flower girl at Uncle Matt's wedding, you loved the reception and cried when we finally put you in bed signing "more" party.  We took you to the mountains and let you dance all night at aunt Heidi's wedding.

You also had a blast going to Brielle's birthday party and playing with your cousins. 

We love all our moments with you, even when they aren't picture perfect,

mommy

title courtesy of Jason Mraz, I won't give up

Baby you light up my world like nobody else

Hello Sloane,

You are 20 months old!  How can it be? 

You love lots of new things this month.  Luckily when you turned 1 your birthday guests were so insightful about what you would like throughout the whole next year.  You have recently discovered coloring and stickers.  You are in love (a girl after my own heart).  One day you and Daddy spent a long time painting on newspaper.  I like seeing your love for art growing.

Another thing you love lately is music.  You like your cd from the drum safari group that you saw at the River Festival.  You request that by saying "nomp nomp" which is Sloanecode for one of the songs "Elephant stomp stomp."  You love Baby and Boyfriend by Justin Beiber.  If you want Baby you say "Beebs!" then you say "mine mine mine".  If you want Boyfriend you simply say "waggy" Sloanecode for Beebs code- "Swaggy".  Like lots of little girls around the globe you also enjoy One Direction: What Makes You Beautiful and enjoy various YouTube parodies of Carly Rae Jepsen's Call me Maybe?.  And you will dance to anything. Literally, anything: including the sound of your aunt Tay's breast pump (TMI?) this tidbit will mortify you one day. 

New words...lot's of names, including putting "eh" in front of your aunt's names.  "eh Tay" "eh Pies" (Aunt Pesha), "eh Ma-eee" (Aunt Maddy) "eh Abril" (aunt April). You say "Elbow" for Elmo instead of just "oh". You can also name other Sesame Street inhabitants: Abby, Coo-ee, Scar (Oscar), and BeeBeed (Big Bird).  To request Curious George you sign "more" and then say "eee-eee" like a monkey.   

You enjoyed the Olympics this month cheering for Gab-Gab (Gabby Douglas) and Awy (Aly Raisman) and waving your "fwag" while dancing to the Star Spangled Banner.

You say "chicken, cheese, hah-haw (hot dog) abaca (avocado) fies (fries) and coo-ee (cookie) and ays (eggs)".  These are about all the foods that you will eat.  You are pretty finicky lately.

You are in an aggravating phase where you refuse to smile for the camera.  I hope that passes before the next two weddings, we would like to have some good shots of your toothy grin all dressed up.

No smiles Sloane

We all wore Sesame Street stickers at the wedding

you love a good hat

Looking forward to more adventures on this 20th month...2 ("tuewww") is coming up soon! 

love you,
mama

One Direction: What Makes You Beautiful (for Sloane)

for you I would have done whatever....

Dear Sloane,

You are 19 months old this month.  July has been a whirlwind of talking, mimicking and trying to beat the heat, with water!

I am so happy that you do not have a fear of water.  I cannot swim, and am pretty afraid of water but have been working extra hard since you were little to help foster your own relationship with water.  I want you to have all the things I feared as a girl (going to a pool party, hanging out at the lake, going on a boat etc).  

On the 4th we spent some time with your cousins in the pool and your aunt Pesha took the lead helping you to learn to love the water and try new things.  Everything that she had you try you loved.  You didn't care if someone splashed your face or if you swallowed water.  This joy that I see in you makes me feel so happy.  It even makes me want to push myself to actually like the water more for myself. 

When you want to play in the water you say "fash fash" (splash splash) and someone usually is able to accomodate your request, either at the splash park, in grandma's back yard, in the bathtub or at uncle Chance and aunt Pesha's pool.  It's been a great way for us to beat the heat and still get you outside (like you love). 

You say lots of names now too...most notably you have quit calling aunt Tay "momma" and "taymom" you now love to call out "TAY!"  for your favorite playmate. 

You also say "Mayee" (Maddy) "Hiee" (Heidi) "T" (Tiernan) "Bee" (Brielle) "Pawpaw" (Grandpa) "G" (Gigi).   Your favorite person to talk about these days is Daddy.  "Dahee"  You always want to know where he is and when he is coming back.  You are turning into Daddy's girl for sure. 

You weren't much for fireworks

You are also still stubborn, strong willed and precocious.  Sometimes I see flashes of the young person you will become.  I was grabbing a coffee before work last week and I drove through McDonalds and when the lady asked if a coffee was all you answered back from your car seat "Fies!" (french fries)...alas it was 9am fries were not in the plan but the lady at the drive through and I had a good laugh.

After Bible class a couple of weeks ago you had a hard time when I left you.  You cried and cried and gagged yourself which upset the other kids so they now have you sit a few chairs down from the others (this broke Mommy's heart).  I had been working so hard with you to prepare you for class.  But this day you just didn't want mama to go.  After we got home from church Daddy asked you about class asking if you were good or not.  You ignored his question.  When I asked you "what did you do in class?" you quickly retorted "I dunno?".  We all laughed at your spitfire answer but that was the last flash I need for the teenage years for awhile.

Another teenage tendency you've picked up lately is your love for Justin Bieber.  You sing Baby and request it vigorously of anyone who has it on an Ipad, computer or the car radio.  It takes exactly 4 rounds of Baby to get from grammy's to our house daily, so I am a little concerned of how many choruses of Baby we will listen to on our way to Winter Park next month.  I can't help that watching you dance in your car seat and sing "oh oh oh oh oh oh oh" "bebee" "be mine" is a little too cute to quell (for now).

 title courtesy of who else, Mr. Bieber and his mega hit Baby

so much to say

Dear Sloane,

photo by breann

18 months today. 

You are very into asserting your will.  You get so frustrated that we can't understand what you say or we don't always do what you say.  It's so funny that after being so upset something so little can steal your attention and make you forget all about what you were upset about. 

Your newest thing to do while having a temper tantrum is to spit and then pull the drool out of your mouth and fling it to the floor.  Disgusting, although I try to just turn my back and ignore your craziness. 

You are so funny combining signs with verbal words right now, so you have molded your own half & half language. Signglish.-- 

What you like to say this month:

"teeth"-- means you want to brush your teeth (which you LOVE to do) or that you are identifying teeth on yourself or others

"Abby"-- Abby Cadabby (she's at the bottom of your oatmeal bowl and when you've cleared away enough oats you exclaim her name). 

"ooof" w/ the sign for please--- please

"no-no-you" while nodding yes--- no thank you

"Matt" --uncle Matt

"Meemee" -- Grammy

"mahmaw"-- Grandma

"mommy" -- Mom

"peazu"--pacifier

"beezu"--- Ledger

"it's a woaheee"---- we are not sure but we sure do love to make you say it.

"ball"-- ball

"Tay" -- aunt Taylor

"Hi-eee"-- aunt Heidi

"keh bat"--- kiss bath (and that's exactly what you did, which resulted in some snorting and sputtering)

photo by breann

Keep speaking sister!  We are sure one day it will all start making sense.   

love,
mama 

title courtesy of Dave Matthews Band:  So much to say

or maybe there's some kind of local competition here to see who can be the rudest?

When people don't know what to say, sometimes they say something so absurd. 

My daughter was playing at her uncle Brooks' baseball game last week.  And a mother of one of the tween boys on his team came up to her and told her promptly how adorable she is how KEE--UUWWWWT! (translation: cute) she is--- which is pretty common in babyhood/toddlerhood parenting that some stranger becomes smitten and expresses their love for your child's ________ (eyes, dimples, shoes, hair, lack of hair etc). So I was prepared for the exchange, thinking it was another run-of-the-mill compliment  But then she says to my daughter...."it's too bad you are a girl.  Girls are devils." and then from my lack of response she must have gathered that I was not thrilled with this statement so in her infinite wisdom she repeated herself, as if it would be twice as true if repeated.  "Girls are devils."

my so-called "devil"

Usually I have ignored such silly parenting cliches-- "that girls are harder to raise than boys", that with girls "you must worry about all penises and with boys you only have to worry about one", that "girls are sassier", that "girls hate their mothers", etc ad nauseum, as if your temperment is somehow aligned with your biology. 

But this time I couldn't just sit by because what made me the most angry was that she addressed this comment TO my daughter. 

So I bent down to my toddler while weirdo-stranger was still within earshot and with my years of perfected stage diction told my daughter "there is nothing wrong with being a girl, nothing at all".  Then I kissed her on the forehead and let her continue to play in the dirt.   

I am a child not a cliche

my mama means business

What else is a mama to do but turn on her ani difranco Pandora station and rock to the sound of injustices everywhere? 

lyrics compliments of ani d...little plastic castle

I recall...being strangers to change

Dear Sloane,

On the day you were 17 months old your cousin Ledger Matthew was born.  I was a wreck all day long helping your aunt Tay through a harrowing 48 hour labor and delivery, that we are all more than thankful ended well. 

A few days after delivery: I am just so glad we got to have this moment.

aunt Tay & Ledger Matthew, Sloane and Grammy

When we finally got to see aunt Tay after the c-section and subsequent allergic reaction (par for the Taylorcourse) you walked into the room so excited to see her.  You were the one who made her so happy because you wanted only to see her-- the rest of us were waiting to meet baby Ledger (although he was still "baby boy" until morning).  When you saw Ledger for the first time you exclaimed:  "Hi Tiny!"

You adore your cousin.  On the days you don't see him you walk around saying "babybabybabybaby".  Every time you touch him you are gentle (so far) and give him sweet kisses on the top of his head.

When we left Ledger had to go back to NICU for his antibiotics etc...You told him to be strong.

I am pleasantly surprised that you give little attention to me or your bff grammy when we are holding Ledger. We thought you might not do so well with this as the last few weeks of the pregnancy you got very into "being a baby" (your interpretation of this as seen below)

A one year old--shoved into a bumbo, with a bottle, whining...truly lovely

So happy that you are adjusting so well to the new things in your world.  Even though you recently learned to verbalize "no" and love to use it in combination "nonononononononono!" while running away, you still are adjusting to this change with a bit of grace (as much grace as a toddler can possibly possess and exude, which frankly isn't that much). 

Love you,

Mama

title courtesy of Iron & Wine:  Tree by the River

fight like a girl

dear daughter,

So many adventures this month and so many things I have yet to learn... 

As for you, you are learning everything.

This isn't how you do it?

cousins & bffs

She got the hang of it!  Of course Grandpa had baseball eggs for her.

 You enjoyed egg hunting at Easter so much.  You are a lucky girl you got to have one egg hunt at Grammy & Grandpa's and one at Grandpa & Gigi's.  Of course you were stylish for both occasions. 

You are curious, stubborn and precocious. You LOVE books-- thumbing through them alone or reading with us, we hear "book, book, book" which you speak and sign simultaneously and enthusiastically. Of course, I couldn't be more tickled about this obsession and fuel your fire with lots and lots of books at home and we go to the library.

Of course, Dudley likes to read with you.

Dudley and your cousins are your bffs.  You love to wave at kids and babies out and about.  You now say lots of new words-- bye (which sounds like "die"), book, Dudley ("Dee"), baby, cookie, Elmo and grandpa. 

We don't go anywhere without this guy.  Luckily, we've attained a Dudley clone in case the unthinkable occurs.

This month started with a bang for you because you LOVE to watch basketball and cheer Go GO GO and raising a fist to say "Rah" for "Rock Chalk Jayhawk" for the KU Jayhawks.  You were a proud fan-- they got all the way to the championship game-- so glad you were asleep when they broke our collective hearts losing to Kentucky. 

During the NCAA tournaments (mens & womens) there was a lot of press for one of the female college players- the most famous female basketball player in college right now- Baylor's Brittney Griner.

via

She can dunk, and she does, a lot.  Tongues in the media have wagged consistently about her "deep voice" her "unfeminine looks" and the need for her to prove to the world that she is a woman (and at what level her femininity is) by submitting to hormone level tests.  As a feminist this irks me, as a mother of a daughter, you, it sends me into a rage. 

I want you to grow up in a society that thinks Brittney Griner (at least her talent level) is awesome.  She should not have to be "complimented" by comparing her play to men's play nor "dissed" for her looks/voice/style of play not being female.  I hate that you exist in a world where it is still in any way socially appropriate for it to be an insult that you "play/run/throw/catch like a girl" but it is supposedly a compliment given when a woman is told that she plays like a man.

At this point women that are athletes are revered (with magazine covers and commercials) if they look like Anna Kournikova and ridiculed if they look like Serena Williams...by the way Serena can wipe the court with Anna.  At some point in time being "strong" became solely equated with being mannish.

I don't want you to fear sweating.  I don't want you to fear running faster or hitting the ball harder...that this would somehow compromise your worth as a woman, that it makes you unfeminine or undesirable.   

Walmart is currently selling a onesie in your size that states:  "I pretend to like sports, when I'm with daddy." As if you need to pretend to like sports for male approval, or that you need to pretend to like them at all.  Right now- you LOVE to watch sports. And I don't think you are doing it to impress your uncles. 

Now the tough part, the "be the change" part...

I am not immune or some sort of example I have made remarks about how women look in the past, one of my favorite things to dissect at awards ceremony is fashion.  But now that I have a daughter I don't want to do that in the way that I have done it before.  I don't think there is anything wrong with expressing my taste on fashion-- but I refuse to remark on women's bodies or their level of femininity anymore.   Including myself.  Your grandmother was an awesome athlete.  She used her body to do awesome things.  She taught me and your uncle Matt and your aunt Tay that our bodies were awesome, that we could jump and run and dance and shoot and dribble and drive.  In order for me to teach me that you are awesome I need to treat myself awesome too.  That means no more remarks about what I consider to be my flaws. 

You, and how you feel about your body is more important to me than the state of my thighs. 

I love you,

Mama

title courtesy of bomshel-- fight like a girl

15...there's still time for you

Miss Sloane Jillian,


15 months on the 14th!

You know it's march madness-- anytime you see basketball on TV you shout "GO go Kay" (go go KU).  You then raise your fist and sing "Rahh" for Rock Chalk Jayhawk.  You strung together your first sentence of sign language by pointing to the radio in grandma's kitchen and signing "more Jayhawks please". 

You like to look at the animal books and know what sound they make.  You imitate a cow, dog and rabbit (hop hop hop).  You laugh like crazy about the horse sounds that we make for you. 

You can sign "again" and "yes" now and we are working on "love". 

You say "gonk goo" for thank you and something very similar for "love you". 

You love to pretend that Tay's pill bottles are lotion and rub lotion all over yourself and others. 



Dudley goes everywhere with us.


Mommy finally broke down and put you in the big girl car seat.  You love the car now and like to look out the window clap and sing (especially to the song B-I-N-G-O).

Your diet has been a little sporadic this month--somedays you are hungry as can be and other days you turn up your nose at everything but your milk.  We learned that cow's milk was giving you eczema, so you are totally on rice milk now.  We don't worry about the tiny bit of dairy you get from occasional cheese or baked goods- it doesn't seem to bother you.  Otherwise you still love your oatmeal and fruit in the morning (during Elmo's world) and you've discovered french fries (and how to dip food into sauces), you love chicken noodle soup and rice dishes. 


You nod yes and no when asked simple questions however we are not sure the answer is reliable. You certainly have a mind of your own. Grammy says you remind her of me. You are definitely "strong-willed". When you have a rough time I remind myself that this means you will be a fantastic and strong person.

However some days this is difficult to remember.






This is a typical tantrum


You are walking!  You love to walk holding your hands high in the air, as if celebrating yourself for such an achievement.  You got the first goose egg on your noggin yesterday, you didn't cry you just rubbed some imaginary lotion on it.

Your cousin Tiernan taught you how to make the kiss sound when you blow kisses and you like to do it quite a bit. 

We are excited to start the spring with you little girl! 

love, mama
 
ps--- I started to watermark my photos...not because I think they are awesome photos but because I read this blog entry that creeped me completely out and left me thinking of the creepy movie Catfish that Keenan and I watched last year about a similar story occurring on Facebook. 
 
title courtesy of 100 years by Five for Fighting

suddenly you're mine

Miss Sloane Jillian,

14 months on the 14th...it doesn't seem that long ago in many ways but in other ways it seems like we've known you forever. 

You've got new skills--

You can "cheers" with your milk cup, drink through a straw (which pleases you)

so big, now she LOVES to hydrate

You say "good girl" (guh gahl), raise your fist in the air when you see a jayhawk, tell uncle Chance and uncle Matt's basketball players to "go go go!" 

You identify your head, eyes, nose, mouth, ear, toes, hair and tummy.  You like to brush your (mostly non-existent hair) and apply chapstick and hand cream.  Also if we ask you if you need medicine you will give a great fake cough. 



my daughter wearing a "boys sleeper" and a little mermaid bib --my tiny paradox

 Your favorite foods are enchilada casserole, guacamole, toast, goldfish, cheerios, macaroni w/ squash, chili waffles, and oatmeal with fruit.  Your grandma and aunt Tay introduced you to oatmeal raisin cookies for which you will say and simultaneously sign cookie, please ("cook peas").  You are totally done nursing (as of February 1st) although you still sign for it sometimes when you are sad you are happy to drink from a cup instead. 

You love to "sing" and dance and say "hi" to everyone at church.  You put both hands together to say your prayers and laugh when anyone ends the prayer with "amen". 

You can stand and take steps but you aren't really that enamored by walking yet, so we don't say that you are walking because you really aren't quite yet (despite your daddy's trying). 

The TV will catch your attention if-- it is a commercial with a dog or a baby (who you will make a grouchy face and whimper for) which we then say "oh is that baby crying?", Elmo, Star & Nina from the goodnight show on sprout, KU basketball so that grandma can sing you "rock chalk jayhawk" and you can dance. 

Your favorite things to play with are dishes, pretend food, books, baby dolls, Dudley the monkey, when daddy pretends to be a monster and you squeal and crawl away furiously, you love roaring at people to "scare them",  hiding under blankets or pillows, and playing with your little Sesame Street figures and Playskool Little People (is that still acceptable that they are named that?). 

You are almost always happy and you are wonderful.  Thank you for filling my heart and days with joy.

------ on a totally separate note, it's "wedding wednesday" and I will actually have something to show for it tomorrow.

title courtesy of Aqualung: Brighter than Sunshine 

it's my worried mind that you quiet

Sloane is slowly weaning herself. She turned 1 yesterday. She is only nursing in the morning for about 5 minutes and at night for about 3 minutes. She signs "finished" or "play" and wrigges off of my lap. I nurse whenever she requests (by climbing on my lap and pointing her tiny index finger ever-so-lightly onto the top of my shirt, sigh so adorable). But she only requests twice a day.  She is growing up, so quickly.


I hope she wants to continue for a couple times a day for a little longer, but each time I nurse her I feel myself savoring it as it may be the last time.  I never thought I'd get to this state of peace: loving to nurse her.

 I didn't think I could make it through the first 6 weeks, let alone 6 months and now 1 year.  It seemed we had a million hurdles to get over: double the milk that I needed (thanks a lot nursing staff at the hospital), scouring the internet for help, La Leche League, post-partum depression, lack of gaining weight, waking up to nurse, reflux, latching, clogged ducts (worst pain ever), growth spurts, lanolin (best invention), ugly nursing bras, pumping at work, nursing in public, the boppy pillow, waking up to nurse, nursing 12+ times a day, nursing 8 times a day, nursing 4 times a day, teeth- ouch, nursing twice a day.

nursing, March 2011...photo by my friend Kate



a layout I did to inspire myself to reach my 12-month nursing goal



I read this on-line in the comments of another blog I read and bawled...totally how I feel. So bittersweet....


wean me gently by c. cardall

I know I look so big to you,
Maybe I seem too big for the needs I have.
But no matter how big we get,
We still have needs that are important to us.
I know that our relationship is growing and changing,
But I still need you. I need your warmth and closeness,
Especially at the end of the day
When we snuggle up in bed.
Please don't get too busy for us to nurse.
I know you think I can be patient,
Or find something to take the place of a nursing;
A book, a glass of something,
But nothing can take your place when I need you.
Sometimes just cuddling with you,
Having you near me is enough.
I guess I am growing and becoming independent,
But please be there.
This bond we have is so strong and so important to me,
Please don't break it abruptly.
Wean me gently,
Because I am your mother,
And my heart is tender.

title courtesy of Ray LaMontagne: Hold You in My Arms

just one look and I fell so hard in love with you

first look (please excuse the petechiae all over me, labor was hard work)

Dear Sloane,

Today is your birthday.  Your first birthday.  You got up and enjoyed (by dancing and smiling) me singing "happy birthday to you".  You ate oatmeal for breakfast and watched Elmo, took your nap, ate macaroni and cheese with butternut squash for lunch and I am making you pumpkin waffles for dinner.  Lots of playing with your new toys you got from your party. You took one step by yourself today from the edge of the couch to grandma.  All of this while wearing your pink cupcake shirt and your  baby pink tutu and  black leggings and mary jane socks (I couldn't resist).

It's hard to believe it's been a year in the way that you still seem like a baby to me, not a "toddler".  It's not hard to believe it's been a year in the way that I have forgotten what I did with myself and all my time before I was a mother. In some ways it's hard to remember how it was without you.   You make everything so different and so vivid.

What a year.

love you,
mama

title courtesy of Linda Ronstadt: just one look

as you sleep: Sloane's nursery tour

Dear Sloane,

It's hard to say good bye to the nursery we brought you home to...I've wanted to post about all the little things in your room for a long time now.  Lucky me, Jenna took photos of some of the little details when she was over for your 6 month photos.  I spent a lot of time before you were born trying to make every detail lovely for you and to make it affordable.  I am happy about how it turned out.  I hope when you look back at the photos you are too.

Grandpa G. & Gigi bought you this shelf, I DIY'd the bird house and the two birds are Christmas ornaments from Target

etsy find, target frame

Target find DIY'd crib

I DIY'd the flowers and picket fence, my friend Kate made the big-eyed owl peeking at you

lovely piece aquired through a trade, available on etsy

Target dollhouse bookcase, vintage & new blocks

hello birdie

miss s has many books

vintage golden book and mellisa & doug pull toy

revamped Craigslist dresser w/ paint, poly and new hardware- favorite piece in my home
thirft store bunny, DIY'd owl, vintage brush, Target basket, gifted turtle, DIY'd thrift store monogram

a bed by the window, night stand from a tag sale- 5 dollars plus an anthropologie knob

we vascillate between yellow, pink and white sheets

Lots of good sleeping happened in this space
photo by Bret Palmer

beautiful shaggy rug from a yard sale for 10$

We were so blessed with friends who gave, scoured Craigslist for us and helped us renovate furniture that we only spent 5$ on nursery furniture.  Seriously.  We were gifted everything else.  The rug was 10$ The art was 20$. Frames were 60$. DIY'd knick knacks and monogram 55$...grand total money spent 150$.  Grand total of time spent: priceless.

close your eyes, and i will be swimming

lullabys fill your room,

and i will be singing singing to only you

dont forget ill hold your head

watch the night sky fading red

but as you sleep, and no one is listening

i will lift you off your feet, ill keep you from sinking

don't you wake up yet

-something corporate, as you sleep