2 Years-old

It's amazing to me that my baby is two. What's more amazing is that she won't be my baby come June. There will be a new little face around these parts (I still am having loads of trouble wrapping my mind around this). In fact, my heart at once bursts and breaks when I think that Ada won't be my only child soon. Is this normal? I'm such a swarm of conflicting feelings. On one hand I can't wait to add another little person to the mix. I can't wait to see Ada as a sibling. I can't wait to cuddle and new warm baby and introduce it to the wonders I've slowly discovered the last two years with Ada. On the other hand, the thought of dividing my time further, of spending even less with Ada and Mike and art is a complicating and conflicting thought.

But back to my darling Ada girl. She knows her ABC's and can almost count to 20 unassisted. She can sing all the words to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and knows several other tunes that she puts most of the words to (Jesus wants me for a Sunbeam, Stars Were Gleaming, Mary has a little Lamb, Row, Row, Row your Boat, Elmo's World Theme Song . . .) She describes things with several adjectives, "Ada wants her purple ciucio with tiny, purple stars." Literally. She has said this to me on several occasions. She speaks in third person 100% of the time and often narrates everything she's doing or experiences. She mimics nearly every word I say. She picks up quickly on emotions. She loves to draw and paint and can do it for several hours a day. She loves Elmo. She seems to prefer book stacking to book reading these days (but perhaps it's because she's tired of our selections at home. . .) She can build the train track by herself but gets frustrated easily when the pieces don't line up on the first try. She loves wearing dresses and necklaces and hats but also loves to run and jump and climb, throw balls and play at the park.

She is a completely different baby than she was when we moved out here in August. In fact, I don't think she's really a baby at all anymore. This growing up business is even harder to watch from the outside. She's more and more fun by the minute (and often more challenging) but the phases pass so quickly and she's shooting up like a weed I'm not sure how much more growing I can take.

Can't we just put things on hold for a bit? A little bit? Please?

Ada, I love you so much my insides turn to pieces. You are the brightest joy of my life. Happy 2nd Birthday, sweetie.

P to the O to the T-T-Y

You know when you're so behind in blogging that you just want to toss your hands up and jot down, "We celebrated Halloween and a week later Mike had a birthday" instead? I'm about there. It's paralyzing because I have the nagging compulsion to want to write chronologically. The more behind I get the I am the less likely I am to ever want to write anything because it means backing up two weeks.

Sigh.

I'm going to try and fight that compulsion today.

Ada has become increasingly resistant to her diaper and increasingly aware of how uncomfortable it is to sit in your own wasted. Going in her diaper is always followed by a lot of tugging, waddling, and, if she's wet, exclaiming, "STHOGGY!" If it's messy, on the other hand, she sticks her chin up like she's howling at the moon and in a low groan says, "poooooooop-py! Pooooooooop-py." It sounds much like a cow mooing, actually.

Tuesday I figured, let's go for it. Ada diaper free. Me on her like a hawk and asking her 8 million times if she has to go potty until by the end of the day she only responds with raspberries and squawks.

By noon we had our first victory (who knew she could hold it for 3 hours?!) #2 right where it belongs. We cleaned up and while I was mid-victory-text to Mikey I heard my cattle-baby lowing, "Poooooop-py" and there it was: the sneak attack poop. She went on the rug literally 20 seconds after going the first time and shooting her enthusiastic little arms into the air and shouting, "AH DONE!" Then she stepped in it 4 times before I could get my hands free and armed with wipes.

Mamma mia.


Yesterday seemed to be going better. Until she squatted over her vehicles puzzle to relieve herself. Fortunately the pieces were scattered everywhere so it had some holding capacity. And at least her urine went in the water-appropriate vehicle: the submarine.

Let the adventures continue. We're in this thing for the long haul.

18 Months

An effort to immortalize this phase that I am loving so much.

An Ada update

She has: 12 teeth, and hair that is apparent enough to detect even in dim light.

She can tell you: what the cow, duck (though he has become a shy, quiet duck lately), piggy, sheep, dog, elephant, monkey, fish and firetruck/ambulance/any large vehicle she sees say. And point to her toes, fingers, teeth.

She does (some of) the actions to: Itsy Bitsy Spider, I'm all Made of Hinges, Where is Thumbkin, Upon My Head My Hands I'll Place, Wheels on the Bus, Here is the Church Here is the Steeple...

She can: tickle Daddy, give butterfly kisses, jump (aka: squat), throw overhand, kick the ball, mimic a myriad of actions (including putting on mascara), find Giraffey, Sophie and some other toys when asked, pretend to read (she has a specific quiet-grunt-reading sound), scribble well, do a "cheesy cheesy" smile, give high-fives, follow several simple commands in Italian, say prayers in her same quiet-grunt-reading voice. (Tangential anecdote: we were walking home from the market yesterday when Ada decided to kneel down in the middle of the sidewalk, fold her arms, bow her head, and say a quick, grunted prayer).

She loves to: go to the park, chase pigeons (the chase is always preceded by a growl), sing along with Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, go on walks—without the stroller, climb in her stroller by herself, play chase and Where's Daddy?, put things in the garbage,

She can say: Mama, Dada, Ada (which is basically Dada), stanca (tired), basta (enough/I'm done), more ("muh"), cracker ("ca-cuh"), jacket ("kakit"), bath ("ba"), ball ("bah"), bottle ("ba-ba"), thank you ("teh-to" but we're real hit and miss with this one), doggy, yucky ("kaka"), and Obama (though we're not sure that one's intentional).


ada telling us about her day in the park. and that she is mama.

The best thing about her beginning to talk is how convinced she is that she's actually communicating. She uses various intonations and emphases, gestures and body language. This toddler thing is getting to be tons of fun. 

Cotton Candy

Ada had her first taste of cotton candy today (courtesy of Aunt Julie). This is what she thought about it:

What would we do with out our great friends? They definitely top the list of things we'll miss when we leave.

Tipping point

Ada hit a tipping point last week. She had now lived longer in Italy than she has in the U.S. Isn't that nuts? I can't believe how much she's grown up the past 8 months; all the milestones she's met since being abroad. Walking, jabbering, climbing, exhibiting more and more independence, growing molars (MOLARS!)

I think we need to redouble our tooth-brushing efforts. . .

Tipping Point from Paige Anderson on Vimeo.

Three years in go-go mode

Today marks three years. Three years simultaneously feels like: Three years! Look at us!! and Three years? That's it? It has seemed like so much longer than that.

Maybe it's because we've pack a lot into our three years—7 moves, 1 new baby, 20 airplanes, 12 states, 6 countries, 6 different jobs, 1 new language, 2 degrees, and countless hours of time spent together wondering when we'll ever settle down. Or maybe it's because once your love someone completely you can't remember what it was like before they came around.

Whatever the case, I think this go-go mode might just be the way we are. We may be on the go forever, but as long as I've got Mike by my side, I'm sure we can handle whatever comes our way. The chaos, the motion, and state of constant flux has made our relationship more nuanced, more real and more enduring. I love you Michael Neal.

I still remember how I felt when this picture was taken. Today, I think I feel like that times three. Marriage just keeps getting better. Because he's my person and I'm his.

Tonight we're going out to dinner and to poke around some book stores in search of the perfect coffee table book about Bologna. What could be more romantic than a coffee table book, right? It's going to be a quiet, relaxing evening without distraction, which is exactly what both of us need.

An Ada update

This girl of mine. . . she's a strong-willed little thing. When talking to a fellow expat last week, she told me that Ada must be fiery and strong because she's an Aquarius. Maybe so. But it is definitely true that not only does Ada know her mind, she "speaks" it (or at least makes her wishes known in no uncertain terms).

A few things about the Lou:

She has: 8 teeth, and a few patches of hair that are long enough ( about an inch long) to "blow" in the breeze

She can point to when asked: her eyes, nose, mouth, tongue, ears, head, belly button. She can also find my belly button, which is my favorite game to play in public.

She can climb: all of our chairs but one, onto the bed, onto the couch (that's baby stuff), into the bottom two drawers, into her stroller.

She can: run fast, go down some stairs going forward, fold her arms for prayers (which she just thinks are hilarious games where we close our eyes and she tries to open them with her pokey fingers).

She loves to: swing at the park, climb everything, pick up trash in the park, get chased, play hide-and-seek with Dad, put things in the bidet, watch me sweep, dance, read books (three times in a row preferably), "help" Dad put his shoes on (she's so helpful), eat peanut butter, wear jackets, take giraffy on walks in the Baby Bjorn.

To Pango Pango and back

 Playing cu-cu! in birthday clothes from Grandma and Grandpa (the package finally came! And yes Dad, it looks like it went to Pango Pango and back).

Ada is relishing in the fact that she's already in tantrum stage. We like to call it, the "floppy-stomp" and it can be expected at about any time of the day, especially when transitioning from one activity (like reading) to another (like going outside).

It wears me out quickly, but I'm making a conscious effort (and saying mini-prayers all day) that I can keep calm and carry on.

Meanwhile, I relish even more in nap times and bedtime. But last night, after I put Ada to bed and finished the dishes, I could hear her in her crib quietly doing her lune call (as we call it), and playing peek-a-boo (but she learned it the Italian way and says, "Cu-cu!"). I wanted so badly to go in and watch her cover her eyes and throw them off while saying "cuh-coo!"

I could sense that she was in a happy, calm mood, and I wanted to share in it.

So I went in. Mike was in a test review and I had nothing else tugging at my time. I got her out of her crib and we laid on the bed together singing, playing cu-cu and trading the pacifier back and forth. She was sweet and soft and giggled quietly as we played.

It was a reassuring moment that, yes, she's doing just fine. And I'm doing okay too.

Planted sloppy kisses

Last night Mikey and I spent some time trying to remember what we did last year for Valentines. Did we have a special meal brought to us? (Remember, I was 3 days postpartum.) Did we eat chocolate? Did we even remember it was a holiday? I think we must have spent the day gazing at our newest sweetheart without realizing it was Valentine's Day at all.

This year, I have grand plans for a fancy dinner at home. We'll see if I can pull everything off.

When she woke up, Ada must have sensed some love in the air for oggi e San Valentino. This morning she went back and forth between Mikey and I giving us "loves" (resting her head and hands on our chests, shoulders, stomachs, legs . . . she basically does a stop-drop-and-love where ever she's at). But the morning was quickly overshadowed by a two-way miscommunication that resulted in both Mike and I walking to and from the school twice and missing each other both ways. (How in the world!?) True to form, I was cold and frustrated, and I cried when I got home.

Ada immediately guessed that something was up with her mama. She touched my face softly and patted my shoulders. Later she planted several sloppy kisses on my lips. I'm not sure when her understanding of emotion became so nuanced, but it was a new experience to be comforted by my child.

 

Tonight when my Valentine gets home, I think I'll pay it forward and plant several sloppy kisses on his lips.

Proceed with caution

On Friday I learned that Nutella Jars aren't made out of safety glass. But peeling off shards of glass and scraping off possibly glass-dust-filled-chocolate-hazelnut spread from the mass of non-glass-dust-filled-chocolate-hazelnut spread in my hand was as time consuming as it was worth it.

Mike and I estimate we only lost about 3%.

Worth it.

Also, Ada has started patting me on the back when I pick her up and hold her. I think it's adorable.

Month 11

My sweet baby is becoming less of a baby every day. At this rate, I swear she'll be completely independent by age 3. (Sigh). Also, this past month seemed really, really long, not in a bad way, just in a "Whoa, that picture is from December? That feels like ages ago," sort of way.

I hope the next month feels even longer. I can't handle the thought of having a one-year-old yet.

Ada christened

On our way to the library. A stop brief stop in the Piazza Galvani.

As we walked into my bedroom to change Ada's diaper I remembered what I had forgotten at the store: wipes.

I opened her diaper, hoping for just a wet one. No such luck.

I declared a Wipes Emergency and went into the bathroom where Ada christened the bidet. Both Mike and I have been afraid to use it (it seems a little too personal), but Ada didn't seem to mind one bit. So here we are, 3 months in on our little foreign adventure, and Ada is the only one to have braved this cultural experience.

My friend, Julie (who is married to an Italian), said that to the Italians, a bathroom without a bidet is like a bathroom without a toilet. Today I cheered for Italian hyper-hygiene. It kept poop out of the bathroom sink.

Advent Calender Day 15: Watch Yes, Virginia

Christmas Song: Snow Day by Matt Pond PA

Month 10

I spent way too much time digging in my own archives and watching some of Ada's earlier videos.
Stop growing, Ada. Stop it.

Advent Calender Day 12: family Christmas dance party

Christmas Song: Joseph, Who Understood by The New Pornographers

Oh my talking bird

When can you consider your kid a "walker"? 

Ada walks. She's a bit wobbly, and sometimes leads with her head when she's trying to go fast. Yes, she needs practice. But she much prefers getting around on foot. I think the inefficiency is hysterical. She could crawl along the c-squared (think back to that high school math class . . . there . . . now think: Pythagorean) but instead takes the a-squared + b-squared to get just about everywhere. She's always bobbling between chairs and walls and people and what ever else she can use to steady herself before launching off again.

I have noticed the knees on her pants to have gotten significantly less dusty and stained. This is a major perk to walking.

But man she's already fast! I see her playing by my feet; I look up, whisk my Béchamel sauce for 2 seconds; look down.  She's on the other side of the room.

THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING.

It's something I'll have to get used to I guess.

Another thing I have to get used to: top teeth. They're about .004 of an inch (the thickness of your printer paper) away from cutting through. But you can pretty much already see them when she smiles, gums lighter and stretched thin over these two foreign objects. It's so weird. Teeth make her look like a kindergartener.

A bald kindergartener.

Also, she's chatty. Really chatty. Like constantly babbling, "Daaa de-de-de-de-de gsheh gsheh gsheh ded da dee de-de-de-de. ah. Ah! AHH! ma ma mememe de-de-de-de." Constantly. She does this thing in the morning where she'll pretend to read to herself; sit on the floor and flip through the chunky pages of her books while going "uh-UH. uh-UH. duh-DUH. duh-DUH." low-pitched sound, HIGH-PITCHED SOUND. low-pitched sound, HIGH-PITCHED SOUND. Think squeaky teeter-totter. Or maybe old swing.

Mostly she's still a complete pistol. Wonder where she got that?

Month 9

Oh my Ada Louise. She learned so many new things this month. Among them: dancing, clapping, taking steps, how to open the top drawers, balancing, reaching, throwing fits, arching her back to get put down, waving (sometimes, mostly just at herself in the mirror), hiding and finding, to give kisses (if you're lucky. Usually she just pushes our faces away, unless she's feeling extra sweet), lots of new sounds like "da da" and "na na" and "gjsh gjsh", what shadows are an that she can make them move.


I just love her, love her, love her, love her . . .

First stumbles

Ada is nearly walking. Seriously. She balances well and can take a few wobbly steps when she's well balanced first. Mikey and I had a mini-debate tonight over whether or not to count what she did today as "her first steps." I say no. He says, "What, you're going to wait until she goes (he stomps around, puts his hands up to his mouth megaphone style), 'Mom get me a cookie!'" Answer: no. But I'm not ready to admit that she may or may not have taken her first steps.



First steps make her one part toddler. I'm not ready for toddler. Get back in your bassinet you baby! Fall asleep on my chest. Let me swaddle you. Stay small. Coo again.

She has also taken to blowing on her food. I guess she's seen me do it. She blows it off the spoon now and again. Or waits until it touches her lips to splatter it all over. Speaking of splatter, tub time has turned into a mop-the-kitchen-floor-after-we're-done thing. She has figured out splashing. Big time.

Watching her grow and develop is one part exciting, one part terrifying (she can pull that down now? she got where? she did what?), and one part sentimental. While parts of me long to have my sweet newborn back, I love how much fun I have with her as she learns and explores. She's a curious one.

A few things about The Lou

This morning I was changing Ada's diaper. It was probably her biggest dirty diaper yet. As soon as I opened up the velcro tabs she flipped and started crawling. Across my bed. With her naked poopy bum. It's like she was a racehorse in the stables waiting for the doors to open before launching into a flat out sprint (read crawl).

I quickly scooped her up and held her away from my body as I walked to the kitchen sink (where we bathe her here) and called Mikey for backup. (Get the diaper off the bed! Grab a towel! The soap! The sink stopper! Help!)

As I was filling the sink she peed on my sweats and my left slipper. Awesome.

* * *

Ada is getting quite brave. She'll walk along the couch with one hand until she reaches the end and then try to go further without holding on. She plops to the ground every time. But she's like the Little Engine Who Could and keeps trying.

* * *

I think she may be left handed. At least she uses it more and with better dexterity. We'll see if the right hand catches up (or takes over). If not, at least I know she's in good company being a lefty even if we have to buy special scissors.

* * *

I have officially taken on a few more roles as Ada's mother. I'm now a finger food (ouch) and a teether (double-ouch. But she's only drawn blood once). Glad I can be here for all of Ada's developmental needs. I am her mama after all.

For the grandparents

"Yes you're going, but can't you leave the baby?"

We heard this request from clamoring grandparents, who told us that while they'll miss us (sort of) they just really want to watch Ada grow. We couldn't leave the baby (come on now . . .) but we can give them a peak into how she spends her days and what some of her new tricks are.

Without the Utah mountains changing colors, it's easy to forget that it's Autumn. Ada helps remind me by finding each crunchy leaf and testing its cruchiness with her mouth. This is a fun game. Especially when she coughs up flecks of brown leaves later.

She has also learned to click her tongue, pick stuff up with her thumb and pointer finger (rock that pincer grasp), and count to 100 in Italian.



Mike has been working hard at teaching Ada how to get off the bed and the couch by herself.  You know, turn around and scoot backwards, not the whole crawl-headlong-off-the-side thing. . . Yesterday she started scooting backwards by herself (!) and has since proudly gotten off the couch and bed independently (if you get her in--or close to--the correct "starting position" on her belly, feet at the edge of the bed). When she touches down on the floor she looks up with a grin and awaits her applause and cheers.



When you don't help her get situated face down, perpendicular to the edge of the bed, she crawls to the edge, sits up precariously, and wobbles around just inches from the edge. Just for fun.

Ada loves the park. She like to swing lounged back while drumming her fingers on the side of the swing. Also, she's already an avid people-watcher (and what a more perfect place to people-watch than the park, right?)

This is Ada with her new friend Taryn. Ada's favorite thing to do with Taryn is steal her toys (or anything she looks like she might be headed for, for that matter). It's like Taryn is the cool girl at school and Ada desperately wants to have everything she does so she can be cool too. Or it's like Ada is a grabby first child who feels entitled to everything. We're working on that too.



Mostly she is just getting sweeter by the day. While she's still a mover (and when she's got some open space she's a non-stopper), but she's getting more cuddly (as in, rather that .5 seconds, she might rest her head on your chest for a full 2 seconds!) and talkative and fun every day.

Learning to live outside naptime

I had a hard time being a mother yesterday. I'm not sure what it was. Maybe it was the fact that I can't seem to get Ada into a schedule here, or maybe it's because I can't get into my own schedule here. Or maybe I just have a bad attitude. Or I'm tired. Whatever the case, I found that I was only content and relieved when nap time finally came and discouraged when it ended (after only forty minutes or so).

I thought a lot about this as I went to sleep. Why do I feel like I'm only living my life when Ada is sleeping? Don't I know that being Ada's mama is my life right now?

I know, I know. Don't be too hard on yourself. Every mother knows that you need a break now and then. But I felt like I needed to have a pep-talk with myself and resolve to live during awake times and enjoy them as well. I don't pause my life when Ada wakes, I un-pause and play. I need to make her awake time my awake time mentally, physically and emotionally, and recharge when she's down. Basically, I need to make better use of my time.

It's not that I don't enjoy being with my daughter. I do. In fact, it's one of my favorite things. When she's making me laugh, or we're reading together, something rises up within me and says, Yes. This is what it feels like to love and be alive. But I'd be lying if I said that I don't miss alone time. Or time to go out when ever I want and not have to plan my day around naps. Wait when do naps happen again in Bologna? We're still figuring that out.

Things will get easier when Ada isn't waking up 3 or 4 times at night and taking 35 minute naps. I think my perspective may just be one that has been narrowed by sleep deprivation, or jet lag, or both. And I'm confident that I'll get over this hump soon because that's what happens when you're a mom; you struggle for a bit until you get to the next landing pad where things feel good for a short while, and then you launch again into a whole new set of discoveries and difficulties.

Speaking of discoveries and difficulties: did I mention that Ada has two teeth popping up? I think the pressure on the airplane made them finally break the surface. It makes her look way too grown up . . .

Can you see 'em down there? Time to update the baby book!!