So I always, always knew I wanted kids – for sure - 100% - probably lots of them. After we got married in 2003 we finished school, then we were working, then careers and then it seemed like we were never in that happy everything tied up just where we want to be to have a family place.
But then my husband's brother and his wife got pregnant, 3 months later my husband's sister was pregnant, and then on a lark we decided to ‘try’ for one month and if it didn’t “work” then we would wait – I had some huge stuff coming up at my work, that I had been really invested in - and I felt like I really wanted to be a part of that and this would be our ‘window’ of perfect timing where I could take leave and be back before things got rolling.
And of course, 9 months later, the muffin was born – 6lbs 9oz of constant screaming perfection ;)
Actually she only cried constantly for 4 weeks, until we figured out that she had an immature digestive system and everything I was eating was making her tummy hurt via my breast milk, which I was struggling with in a number of separate ways. So around 6 weeks I came to terms with the fact that I couldn’t just eat plain rice everyday and I quit breastfeeding cold turkey and put her on a fancy expensive formula not made of milk or soy. Quitting breastfeeding cold turkey btw is WAY, WAY more painful than childbirth (the medicated kind of childbirth that I had anyway). Ava didn’t mind at all – she seemed to be super relieved to have a steady food supply that didn’t make her tummy hurt.
Flash forward – to now – the muffin is 17months old – very feisty, willful, smart, engaging, snuggly and absolutely the very best thing we ever did – ever, ever.
This all brings me to her newest, coolest trick -
In early December, my muffin said ‘I Love You’ to me for the first time. Perfectly. You invest so much emotion, energy and time into children that when they first say ‘I love you’ – it is really rewarding.
She has taken recently, when she wakes up in the middle of the night (yes, she still wakes up), to calling my name in this sad little pathetic whiney voice “Mama...sob...sob..
Mama”. So either I or Joe goes in, rocks her, snuggles with her, sometimes she points down the hall to our room and demands to go to our bed – so sometimes she does. I know this whole sweet kissing, rocking scenario is why she still wakes up – but I know that she won’t be this adorable, squishy, little muffin for ever either.
So what is the point of this very long post that breaks all the blogging rules – I am sure – maybe to introduce you to my muffin or to point out how I should never write a book on sleep training but maybe I could write a book about colic and screaming newborns???
p.s.s. I will try to write about lots of different things but promise to write in the not too far away future about working and being a mom – because there isn’t enough written about that.