Cutie Patootie

One of the greatest honours of being a parent is having the privilege to watch your child grow. To see them develop their own little personality and watch as they gain more independence. 

Having said that, often I find myself caught up in our day-to-day life that it takes an “ah ha” moment for me to realise how much Micaela has changed and is growing up right in front of my eyes. Sometimes it takes those big milestones — sitting up, walking, first words — that brings your awareness to the fact that your child is no longer a baby. However, most of the time it’s those little things that make you sit up and think — growing out of a favourite dress, washing her ever-growing long hair in the shower and moments like today.

Today my princess brought me the phone, asked me to call her grandpa, and told him that she wanted him to come over. It was amazing to watch her say the right words to express what she wanted. Then, when my dad was here, and after playing for a while, she waved goodbye to her daddy and I and told us she was going to the store to buy some cookies with her grandpa (of course my dad found out he was taking her to the store just then).  So I just had to smile as I watched her do all this as I realized that Micaela really is a little girl now — a baby no more and a 2 year old soon to be! 

Lately

Since we got back from the States, Micaela has changed noticeably. So many skills and personally quirks seemed to have emerged and we have only realized it now that we are back in a familiar environment. 

Fine-motor skills and movements have become smoother and more precise — turning on and off light switches with ease, unzipping bags. She is also amazingly adept at using the iPad and Tablets. She´s able to navigate through folders to “her” apps and already has a fantastic memory for playing some of the more complex apps and games. 

She is more and more vocal every day. She often repeats our words, can follow simple instructions and will surprise with how much she understands. “Más (more)?” is a current favourite as well as “No, no, no, no! (insert dislike to words such as ‘nap’ or ‘sleep’)”.

She has become even more attached to her monkey —insisting that she take it with us wherever we go. This monkey has also collected some new monkey “friends”, all of whom she gathers up in her arms to carry around the house.

Micaela also seems to be training for middle management and has become a great delegator. She points at us then to whatever object she wants to do something with. While she showers with her daddy, she would often instruct him to fill up the bucket for her to empty it on her hair. 

It’s hard to believe that in little less than two weeks, my baby will be 21 months old and with that barreling straight ahead to becoming a 2 year old! 

The very first letter I wrote for you

This is a letter I wrote before Micaela was born. Reading this again has made me remeber how lucky I felt and how lucky I am to be my little girl´s mom... 

Dear Micaela,

This is a special week for you —you started dreaming. As you get older, those dreams will become amazing and fantastic and beautiful. And sometimes, a little scary.

But for now, I imagine that your dreams are about simple things. Warmth and shades of color. The rhythms of my heart or maybe even daddy’s voice calling your name from some place completely unimaginable.

You don’t yet have any stories of your own to dream. Those will come later. So for now, I will tell you one of mine. This one is about how I met your daddy.

We were both living in Peru (although your daddy had just come from living for about 3 years in Argentina). A very nice place, that is sometimes very confused by its own self. It is electrical and tranquil. Centered and riddled. Not very modern and very traditional. It is the same place that your grandparents, uncles and aunts (except for uncle Nicholas) were born. And a place that I will always consider as a very important part of us as a family.

Your aunt Laura, your daddy´s sister, lives here as well, and we are good friends from high school. Your aunt and I liked to go out to clubs and bars until sometimes very late at night. Sometimes we would even see the first rays of the morning light before going to bed.

One day your aunt told me to take her to your daddy´s birthday party at the beach. At first I didn´t want to go but she convinced me to do it. We went and that is where I saw your daddy for the first time. After that party we started going out with our friends but somehow always found ourselves chatting apart from the crowd. We could spend the entire night talking to and talking...

Over the next several weeks, your daddy and I saw each other several times around the city. At the movies, clubs, and restaurants. But it was not until August 8, at a concert, that we told each other that we were in love.

That was almost two years ago today, and I have been very happy ever since!

I hope that you like our little story as much as we do. Sweet dreams, little one. We think about you all the time.

And always remember that we will love you always and forever.

Daddy rocks!

There is something so special about watching Pablo and Micaela together. 

They have this bond. 

This connection. It has only grown stronger over these last 20 months.

The love they have for each other overwhelms me. That love has made my love for Pablo grow stronger - something I never thought would be possible. 

Bringing Micaela home was an adjustment for us. She was a wonderful newborn, but of course we had our moments. Pablo was always there - willing to learn with me. Supporting me when nursing was a challenge, changing poopy diapers (he changed the first one!), spending time with his daughter so I could get a few extra hours of sleep.

Micaela is so incredibly lucky. When I dreamed of a partner I wanted a man who was hands on with his kids, not afraid to do the 'ugly work', not afraid to sometimes be the bad guy - if it meant helping his children grow. What I found in Pablo has definitely exceeded all my expectations.

One more update...

Pablo and I are still constantly amazed at how quickly and often Micaela seems to change. It’s like everyday she is having little brain explosions. Micaela has a number of random words which she verbalises in a matter of fact manner as if to say, of course I can say that word — “tovía (not yet)” or sometimes “todavía (not yet)” (when she really wants us to wait for her to finish something), “un poquito más (a little bit more)” while pointing with her index to tell us that she wants to keep on doing whatever she´s doing...

She is also all about noises — “boom”, “tururu” (surprise), “mooo” (cow), “raw” (dinosaur/lion), crowing like a rooster, and trumpeting like an elephant (although her crow and trumpet sound pretty much the same). She also answers where-questions with a “ahi (there)” or “este (this one)”.

So many of Micaela’s new words are directives: again, wait, no no no no. She seems to be training for a role as either middle management or a Russian gymnastics coach: “Again! Again! Again! No no no no no! Wait! Again!”

My princess loves puzzles. She can get through simple puzzles without any assistance, and she can even do some that are a little bit more complicated mostly by herself. 

Micaela’s imaginary play has gotten more vibrant. She sets up her table for tea to serve her stuffed animals, making little slurping noises when it is their turn to drink. She pushes various animals around in her toy stroller. She feeds her teddy, brushes his teeth, washes his hands, and tucks him in at night.

She seems to be on the verge of potty training. We are not trying to push anything yet, but I am now very hopeful that potty training her will be easy. She seems to try to communicate to us that she needs to go which is a very good sign!

When my daughter needs adult help, she runs over to grab our hand and drag us to wherever she needs us, often at the most inopportune time like while cooking or in the bathroom.

She has always loved the book Three Little Pigs, but now her favourite part is the end where the wolf “burns his butt” and always ends up saying "ay, ay, ay!".

Favourite food: Breakfast smoothies, french fries, bananas, rice, pasta.

Favourite songs: Old McDonald had a farm, Row, row, row your boat, Bingo, The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Theme Song, among many, many others.

Favourite toys: Mono (AKA Monkey) and her ever growing stuffed animal collection, markets, crayons, and every other thing that can be used to draw her beautiful art pieces.

Favourite books: Three Little Pigs, Elmo´s mini book collection, Mickey Mouse´s mini book collection, Barney, and a lot more! She really loves to read! :)

Favourite activities: running, being chased, play-doh, painting, drawing, using stamps and stickers.

Hates: napping, carseats, going to bed — in short, everything that means that the fun will be over. 

Micaela

My sweet Micaela,

Where has the time gone? Too fast, you are now my little girl and no longer my baby daughter. I am torn between anticipating your next steps and missing those days of your first little smiles. Torn between pushing you forward and wanting you to slow down.

But you are never go to slow down, are you? Already, I can see that’s not you. Already, you are skinned knees and running as fast as you can. You are climbing anything in your path and scabby elbows. You are as wild and daring as I hoped and feared you would be. It’s so scary and so exciting to watch.

Will you stay this way? A little girl who drags her hovering daddy to the highest part of the jungle gym? Will you always be so adventuresome? So lovingly reckless? I see us in the future stalking the path to Machu Picchu. Exploring the grandeur of Angkor Watt. Hiking the basin of the Grand Canyon.

But that’s not all who you are. You are curious and pensive. Loving and empathetic. A little bit bookish. A little bit precocious. And a lot goofy :).

I see so much of your daddy and me in you. And I am seeing so much that is just you. Perfect in every way.

I love you so much and will love you forever,

Mommy

Still amazed

Every day, my daughter amazes me...

When she was still inside my belly, her heart beating alongside my own, I was amazed by her movements. A squirm here, a kick there, the thundering whoosh-whoosh-whoosh on the Doppler.

When she was first born, freshly wrinkled and rosy red, I was amazed by her existence. I stared in wonder at her tiny fingers, wondered at how a human could be so impossibly miniature. I listened to her breathe, in and out, in and out, her bare chest against my bare chest, milk on her lips. I looked into her eyes, fell in love with her lashes, was astounded that someone who was once but a dream could do such a thing as blink.

As she’s grown, every stage of her life has brought me awe, but not in the ways I expected. The moments that I thought would blow me away were the milestones. Her first gummy grin and her first stubborn tooth. Her first wobbly steps and her first stuttered words.

But when I am older and my memories jumble together and run away from me, I don’t think those are the moments I’ll cling to.

I’ll remember her insistence on matching together her fancy summer clothes and her pink running shoes for a fun expedition in the garden with Mara.

I’ll remember her first taste of chocolate, the way she rolled the flavor around her mouth. “More!” she exclaimed. “Yummy!”

I’ll remember the look of her face covered with dirt, with sweat, as I lie beside her singing lullabies before a nap. I’ll remember the way she chimes in words and verses during each lullaby. I’ll remember climbing into bed in the evening as Pablo and I tell stories to one another about what she said or did that day.

I’ll remember the way she smells, dusty and happy, at the end of a day. The smell of adventure.

And of course, I’ll remember looking into her eyes. Falling in love with her lashes. Being astounded that someone who was once but a dream can do such a thing as blink.

Wordless Monday

I´ve become THAT woman

Sometimes I go somewhere and leave my baby in the capable hands of relatives.  Relatives like my parents who managed to get me to my 18th birthday without becoming crazy. So obviously that means they’re trustworthy with a three-foot-tall dictator.

Actually, on second thought, look how I turned out...

But my obvious flaws are beside the point. The point is that I periodically entrust the chubby-cheeked tyrant I birthed to other people – but not very often. I go on and on and on about how much I NEED A BREAK and how NICE it would be to escape for a few hours, but when push comes to shove, I’m like WAIT A MINUTE, you mean to be alone I have to be without my baby?!

WHAT SORT OF MATH IS THAT, YOU IMPOSTER?!

Invariably, Charlotte loves being away from me for a while. When I go to pick her up, even if it’s been an entire evening, she always looks at me like YEAH RIGHT, I’m supposed to go back home with you? Do you know what Grandmas and Grandpas do? THEY FEED ME YUMMY STUFF!  AND PUT TOYS IN THE SINK FOR ME TO PLAY! AND LET ME PULL WEEDS!  Mom, you only wish you were this cool...

Oh, but I miss her. When we’re apart, I obsess about her. In fact, whenever I’m without my daughter, I feel the need to tell everyone within a fifty-mile radius that I have one. I don’t really know why. Maybe I am unwittingly channeling their curiosity and they are looking at me thinking SO THAT IS WHAT THE MOTHER OF A REALLY ADORABLE TODDLER LOOKS LIKE, but I doubt it.

Also, I can tie that into the most completely unrelated conversations. Seriously. We went to a meeting recently where someone was talking about advertisement and even though right now I can’t think of a single way in which advertisement relates to childbearing, the next thing I knew our tablet had burped up some baby pictures. DAMNEDEST THING.

When I was single and probably much cooler, I hated people like me. They’d turn every conversation back to kids and I’d think okay, you put your sex organs to work, WELL DONE YOU, now can we return to our talk about window cleaners?  Because that was actually interesting.

How I measure my parenthood

Sometimes I look at Micaela´s clothes at the end of the day and I think that if they’re filthy - covered in mud from playing in the garden, or covered in paint from swishing a paintbrush to and fro over her amazing pieces of art, or covered in sticky juice from nibbling on a mandarine specially bought by her great granddaddy - then I’ve done something right.

Letter to my heart: 20 months

Dear Micaela,

Tomorrow you´ll turn twenty months old. For some reason, twenty months seems so much older, so much BIGGER, than nineteen months.

For one thing, you are repeating everything your father and I say. A few days ago, one of the dogs in the condo tried to sneak outside when we opened the garage. Since it couldn´t make it, your grandpa said “Ven acá, Kiara (Come here, Kiara)” and promptly shooedhad her run back in. You pointed at Kiara and yelped "VEN ACÁ!".

"VEN ACÁ!" is one of your favorite phrases now. Especially when you get to scream it at a dog.

For another thing, you experienced a growth spurt last month that took everyone by surprise. At your 19-month appointment, you were 89 centimeters tall and weighed 14 kilos. Your father and I haven’t really been keeping track of your stats very well because, well, the measurements have seemed more like guesswork than anything else. But this time the nurse measured you standing up and BOOM, there you were, 91 centimeters.

Just for the record, if you add another 9 centimeters you´ll achieve your first meter! 91 centimeters is how tall the average 3-year-old girl is in America and that places you squarely in the GIANT category, a category you share with your grandfather… and pretty much every string bean in his family. 

This month you have also begun to rely quite heavily on routine. You want your bowl of rice placed on your table, not on the coffee table. And your spoon should be to the right of the bowl, not in the bowl. And you will only sip your juice out of the tall glass, not the short glass. Sometimes you insist upon routines that I didn’t even realize we’d established, like laying all your furry pets on the floor to cover them with your blanket and sing them a song to help them sleep. But it has to be that "ah, ah, ah" song, not any other one. OH MY WORD NOT ANY OTHER ONE! If we happen to sing another one, the earth might stop spinning.

Other times, like when you are already wearing your blue shoes but you still force your feet in the minnie mouse slippers? And then you shuffle around the house whining because you can’t move properly? But you refuse to let me help you take the minnie mouse slippers off or, HORROR OF HORRORS, put them on over the shoes you already have on?

Times like that I wonder whatever happened to your sense of routine. Because I guarantee that I never, not once, have forced your tiny feet into your minnie mouse slippers once you are already wearing another pair of shoes...

In short: toddlers are cute, weird, unpredictable little parrots.

But you are our cute, weird, unpredictable little parrot and we love you more than sunflowers love sun (and everyone knows that’s an awful lot),

Mommy and Daddy

Caution: cuteness ahead!

When my baby’s first milk tooth poked through, I was okay. She was still my baby. When my baby first crawled along our floor, I was okay. She was still my baby. When my baby first reached out toward me and walked across the room, I was okay. She was still my baby. When my baby first waved hello at people at Wong (our supermarket), I was okay. She was still my baby. When my baby first saw bubbles and asked for them by name, I was okay. She was still my baby.

But when my baby first twirled her hair around her finger, shook her head to feel it bounce, pointed to it in the mirror and said “IAELA” (her version of “Micaela”), it brought me to my knees. I look at her now and I wonder: what happened to my baby?

How a relationship ought to go

Nothing has made me love or respect Pablo more than sharing with him the joy of raising our daughter together. There is something magical, something indescribably wonderful, about watching a man fall madly in love with his child. Pablo is an exceptional father and it’s hard to look at a man like that and NOT fall more deeply in love with him and therefore feel at home, feel safe, feel in love. 

Where has time gone... I may never know

Sometimes the day finishes before I even realize it’s begun and I feel like time is slipping away from me, a little faster every day. I wonder how much I’m forgetting without meaning to. Will I remember the way my baby girl waves at everybody she meets? Or the smell of her head in the morning? Or the feel of her kissing me again and again before resting her head on my chest at night? Or her desire to stop everything and clean up whenever she drops food on the ground?

Over the past several weeks, in a desperate attempt to scrounge up some photographs for my sister, I sifted through the thousands of images we’ve taken of Micaela during her life. Staring at those pictures, it rushes back to me. The sight of her head leaving my body.  The smell of her breath after finishing her milk. The warmth of her body pressed against mine as she slept. The tremor in my voice when I thought I spied a first tiny tooth. The haltering chuckles on squeaky vocal chords. The wobbling steps on chubby legs. The taste of the tears as I tried to kiss them away.

My sweetie enjoying her first swing :)

My worries vanish, my fears subside, my joy and confidence and excitement return. I miss those days - the triumph of watching her lift her head, the ache in my arms when I set her down for the night, the hours spent cooing and humming and rocking. And I loved her then, in her smallness and her innocence, but as time passes so love grows. Looking at those snapshots, those impossibly small slices of what our life as a family has been, I am at peace. The child my daughter is today is incredible and is so much more than the child she was. The love I offer her is stronger and deeper and more all-consuming. The mother in me is better educated and more patient. Yesterday was beautiful, but today is better. Suddenly time seems like it’s going at just the right pace after all!