It has occurred to me that Naomi is going to teach me far more in her lifetime than I will ever teach her. She was teaching me before she was even born… so I thought I would start writing down the gems I’m learning in the hopes I’ll remember all the things to thank her for.

Naomi and I were in the Times Colonist on Saturday (Family 411: Bonds That Yield Benefits). So exciting. As a happy coincidence I had washed and blow dried my hair that day. Bonus. If you look at my wrist though you’ll see that there are two ratty hair elastics waiting to whip my locks into a ponytail at a moment’s notice. Naomi’s first newspaper appearance! Definitely going in the scrapbook (there isn’t a scrapbook yet. There will be a scrapbook).

The article mentions that there were “initial trials.”

Whoa Nelly, were. there. ever.

In the first few weeks I was completely bereft of the ability to apply perspective to anything that was happening in my life. Naomi was going to cry FOREVER. She was never EVER going to sleep. I was going to be a hot sweaty mess FOREVER. I was going to live the REST OF MY LIFE in sweatpants and every time I applied mascara it was going to end up running down my cheeks forming black/brown puddles on pukey t-shirts FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY DON’T EVEN TRY TO TELL ME OTHERWISE AND PULL OUT YOUR LOGIC SHIT RIGHT NOW.

One day about 2 weeks after Naomi was born I found myself in Naomi’s room. I was raw. Emotionally and physically I was the equivalent of numb-bitten scraped skin not yet healed over. I was exhausted to the point of confusion. Nursing made me clamp my eyes shut in protest. My neck muscles howled. I was permanently bracing for the cry that was going to come any second and jolt through me like lightening.

John walked in. He looked put together. He gave me a smile and a quiet “hey babe” and probably did something productive like fold a tiny receiving blanket. At that moment John’s put-togetherness frayed the last tenuous thread of my confidence and I had to ask a bad question that was only going to make me feel worse:

“Sometimes do you think to yourself…”

I paused. I paused because what I was about to mumble was unforgiveable. It would solidify my position as a terrible mother, a weak wife and a small human being. There was no way John felt the same way. No one was ever supposed to say or think it but here I was about to give it oxygen. I was going to say it. I had to because if I didn’t it was going to get Bigger and Scarier and pretty soon it would get so big it would need it’s own room and I would spend guilty minutes (hours?) trying to close the door on it and maybe I wouldn’t win.

“Sometimes do you think to yourself, Oh my god, what have we done?”

…

I couldn’t take it back.

I needed to take it back. I was floating and I was going to be slammed onto the ground. Exposed. Out of air.

And then, the reason I married this man boiled down to a heartful, shining kernel:

Oh yeah. Totally. I’m told it’s completely normal, everybody thinks that. Don’t worry babe, it’s supposed to suck sometimes.

I wasn’t an ogre. My transgression was excusable.

If I had brushed my teeth I would have smooched him all over.

I am learning that nothing lasts forever. I have had moments of hollow doubt but know those pass and leave me happily anticipating Naomi’s next hug. The challenging things are temporary (last month she went through a week when she shrieked all. the. time. Did you know your mind peels when accosted by the same shrill pitch over and over? It does.). The sweet things are temporary (the first conscious sound she made was a gutteral ahhh in the back of her throat. We used to talk back and forth that way. She doesn’t do it anymore). Last night she woke up at 9:40 and 11:01 and 12:30 and 2:22 and I-lost-track-after-that but tomorrow it will be different and in a few nights more she’s going to text me to say she’ll be home at midnight and I’ll long to shush her little body in the rocking chair by the light of night.

The good stuff and the challenging stuff is temporary and the really hard stuff makes room for incomparable shine.

We had trials initially. We’ll have more. They won’t outnumber the pearls. It’s all temporary.

I’ll keep learning.

Age (in newspaper photo): Just over 10 months

More my baby, my teacher

#3 naked parenting

#2 rest after eating

#1 born this way

I went into the store last week and picked up this bottle of shiraz. It’s called Screw It! (tee hee). I bought it for the following reasons:

1. The name.
2. The name.
3. The guy at the store said that even though it was only $10.50 it was actually a pretty darn good wine.
4. The name.

I can’t find their website so all I can do it link to their facebook page. Since I can’t find the website and the bottle has already been taken to the recycling I can’t tell you much about it other than this:

I concur: It’s pretty good stuff.

It’s fruity… I remember the bottle said it was fine to sip on it’s own… I don’t know if I’d go that far but it went very well with leftover veggie curry.

And it’s called Screw It! Too funny.

(remember the Lucky bottle of wine? awwwww)

This is what inspired Naomi to crawl for the first time. A squeaky mouse. A squeaky mouse DOG toy. Kayloo’s favourite toy to be exact.

It is dog slimed and dirty and generally gross. I wash it, sure, but it’s still gross. Naomi was entranced. Kayloo was put out because the hairless dog had trumped her and was taking over her main squeeze.

In the last 2 weeks Naomi has really started crawling around and making my life much busier. She is also making the dogs life busier. I have noticed they are putting themselves to bed more often these days in an effort to get away from her.

I’m thinking they ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.

Age: 9 1/2 months 

These are two of the pictures up in Naomi’s bedroom.

The one on the right of Kayloo isn’t actually of Kayloo. My mom and I found it when we were renoing my office. It looked exactly like Kayloo so I had to buy it. I think it was about $10. Bargain.

I made the colourful one of Mickey on the left (from this picture). By “made” I mean I designed it and then I took it to a printer and THEY made it (I’m not that handy). It cost significantly more than $10.

Naomi seems to like them. There’s lots of pointing and arm waving and she’s a tough critic. So I think I did good.

About a week and a half ago after putting Naomi to bed I came into her room to find her standing up in her crib.

What was amazing about this:

1. I had never seen her stand up from a lying down position so I don’t know how she managed this Cirque du Soleil-type feat
2. The crib was still in the ‘high’ position so one little bobble-headed bob and she could have done a header and there would go the Mother of the Year award I wasn’t going to win anyway
3. She was still ASLEEP. Her eyes were closed, her cry was an asleep cry… she was unconscious yet upright.

Girl manages to give me heart attacks when she REMing. We are in trouble.

The next day the crib was moved to the ‘low’ position.

I have a feeling this isn’t going to slow her down for long.

Happy Friday (that’s a link to a Friday in 2010… such a different Friday… but the same with coffee and rain and everything the way it’s supposed to be)!

Age: 9 1/2 months

Monkey, Monkey Pants, Monkey Bum, Happy Bum, Funny Bum, Noomi Nohmi…

… Trouble, Hairless Puppy, Honey Bunny, Pun’kin, Sweet Pea, Peanut, Princess Peanut…

The list goes on…

Age: 9 months, 3 weeks

Naomi has three teeth.

Not two. Not four.

Three.

She says “mama” and “dada” and yesterday she started with “uh oh.” She likes to make jokes. There is this one she does when she’s laying on her belly on the bed where she gives you a good hard look, bounces her face into the mattress, pops back up and kills herself laughing. You are welcome at that point to tickle her for more laughter.

She’s a monkey. A monkey with three teeth.

Age:  9 months

I love this picture. I look completely crazy, but we were playing a sort of hide-and-seek game on Christmas morning. I was hiding around the door and Naomi would come walking past, holding my mom’s hands. As soon as she got close enough I would jump out and pound the floor and tickle her belly and she would scream and run as fast as her little legs would take her, screeching all the while.

In this picture she is KILLING herself laughing. Mom and I are too. I can hear her laughing when I look at it.

Love this picture.

(Thank you for taking it Chad!)

Christmas! Did it come and go already? Crap, that happened fast. It feels like I was waiting all year for it to come and then… Poof! It’s over just like that.

Christmas is my favourite time of year. Traditions and traditions and traditions. Brunch Sunday. Last minute shopping. Fondue. Chocolate orange. Waffles.

And now a baby gets to be a part of it all.

We had talked about how fun it would be to have little ones a part of Christmas once again and now it’s here. Now she’s here. Now Little Miss Naomi is here.

Naomi walked and walked and walked around the island in the kitchen until all our backs were very sore.

She also figured out stairs. Up was a breeze. Down took more work.

We met my brother and his wife’s incredibly sweet and incredibly energetic Lab, Hank.

Christmas morning we opened presents and lounged in our PJ’s for hours (Naomi had the best outfit of all).

We inspected our presents…

Wrecked havoc and generally had a wonderful time.

I miss Christmas already.

I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday season! Let the countdown to Christmas 2013 begin…

Age: 8 1/2 months

More Christmas

Christmas 2011 (letter to Bambino)

Christmas 2011 (pregnant belly shot- 27 weeks)

Christmas 2010 (John and Chad and Rebeccah)

Christmas 2009 (in Victoria)

Naomi is impressed with Kayloo’s chompers.

Age: 9 months