Our curious litle baby often won't go to sleep because she wants to look around.
This is how I remedy that problem.
Does that make me a bad mother?
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Too funny not to take a picture
Our curious litle baby often won't go to sleep because she wants to look around.
This is how I remedy that problem.
Does that make me a bad mother?
Photo Shoot
It was a beautiful day today. Aven and I went outside for awhile and I took over TWO HUNDRED photos! A small selection has been posted to my Flickr account (link to the right). Enjoy!
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Friday, May 11, 2007
One Month
I am definitely not the first mommy to write monthly letters to her child, and I'm sure I won't be the last. But I've been so inspired by reading others' letters (especially Dooce) that I wanted to be able to do something special like that for Aven, and for my own memories. So, here is number one.
Dear Aven,
You are one month old. It sounds so simple, but these past four weeks (okay, five... I'm a little late with this letter) were anything but simple! You've already got so much of a personality, and every day you change and grow. I get sad seeing you get bigger and heavier and more alert, because then you're not the little tiny lump you were the day you were born, but when you do new things and become more and more of a person it makes me so proud of you. I've compiled a list of my favourite things about you:
The little bottom pouty lip you stick out when you're upset; the way you go quite cross-eyed when you're focusing on something close to you; the fact that you're a "princess pooper" ... you save most of them for when the diaper is already off and/or a new one is almost on so that you'll be fresh; the way you strain as if pushing the Titanic through your nostril; how much you love your hands and are constantly doing imaginary sign language with them; how you shift your eyes around suspiciously when you start eating; how you pass out like a drunkard when you're done; the way you burp like a trucker; how you regularly feel around to find me with your little fingers when you sleep beside me; the look of contented confusion on your face when you take a bath; the way your head smells like Christmas morning; your tiny, ineffectual sneezes; your ability to sleep through the yappiest dog barking; the way you breathe really fast when you're about to freak out; the dramatic, shocked "oh!" face you make when we kiss you on the mouth; the way you stretch "with your whole soul" as your Muma says; the way you are actually snoring right now as you sleep beside me on the bed; the fact that your nickname is Choncho, because that is just ten kinds of ridiculous; the way we put you into the car and you have the most totally serious, pissed-off face, yet you're quiet and enjoy the ride and generally fall asleep; the way you sometimes softly say "Wah" as if it were a word, not a crying sound.
There are so many more, but I have to cut myself off before I bore you. Just know that you are loved and adored by your father and I, and we can't wait to see who you become. In the words of Cristina Yang on Grey's Anatomy (a brilliant tv show which you will learn an appreciation for), "You're my person."
Love,
Mommy
Dear Aven,
You are one month old. It sounds so simple, but these past four weeks (okay, five... I'm a little late with this letter) were anything but simple! You've already got so much of a personality, and every day you change and grow. I get sad seeing you get bigger and heavier and more alert, because then you're not the little tiny lump you were the day you were born, but when you do new things and become more and more of a person it makes me so proud of you. I've compiled a list of my favourite things about you:
The little bottom pouty lip you stick out when you're upset; the way you go quite cross-eyed when you're focusing on something close to you; the fact that you're a "princess pooper" ... you save most of them for when the diaper is already off and/or a new one is almost on so that you'll be fresh; the way you strain as if pushing the Titanic through your nostril; how much you love your hands and are constantly doing imaginary sign language with them; how you shift your eyes around suspiciously when you start eating; how you pass out like a drunkard when you're done; the way you burp like a trucker; how you regularly feel around to find me with your little fingers when you sleep beside me; the look of contented confusion on your face when you take a bath; the way your head smells like Christmas morning; your tiny, ineffectual sneezes; your ability to sleep through the yappiest dog barking; the way you breathe really fast when you're about to freak out; the dramatic, shocked "oh!" face you make when we kiss you on the mouth; the way you stretch "with your whole soul" as your Muma says; the way you are actually snoring right now as you sleep beside me on the bed; the fact that your nickname is Choncho, because that is just ten kinds of ridiculous; the way we put you into the car and you have the most totally serious, pissed-off face, yet you're quiet and enjoy the ride and generally fall asleep; the way you sometimes softly say "Wah" as if it were a word, not a crying sound.
There are so many more, but I have to cut myself off before I bore you. Just know that you are loved and adored by your father and I, and we can't wait to see who you become. In the words of Cristina Yang on Grey's Anatomy (a brilliant tv show which you will learn an appreciation for), "You're my person."
Love,
Mommy
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
