but the MOST important of things was this:
a very special new accessory for Bitty Baby.
Phew! My two tiniest girls are twins, again.
(Full disclosure, when I bought these Bitty Baby glasses, I got choked up. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t happy. I was just choked up. Just because it is a thing. Hey, what can I say? It has certainly gotten easier, but it’s not always easy. I guess motherhood never is.)
Ok, Bitty Baby…time to Bespectacular.
I have yet to share the details of Birthdaypalooza,
(which, of course, included lots of kisses and lots and lots of cake. And cupcakes.)
like the fact that we spent my birthday weekend in New York City.
It was magic.
Or, as some may say,
it was the icing on the cupcake.
It was the perfect day.
This year, my birthday meant strolling through Central Park with a peaceful sleeping girl nestled into the nook made by my husband’s arms.
It meant having an occasion to point and shout, “Follow that bird!”
It meant eating an ice cream sundae, smothered in malt balls and fudge. At brunch.
It meant getting a t-shirt for my baby, and then a matching t-shirt for her Bitty Baby. And then the matching t-shirt for myself.
It meant snapping photo after photo of my parents and my daughter smiling at one another.
It meant feeling a bit old, and then being mistaken for the “big sister” a moment later.
It meant watching my girl feed herself my freshly made tomato basil spaghetti by the handful and then letting her hug with me with red, saucy paws.
It meant hearing my daugher learn 3 new words in one day.
It meant spotting feathers.
It meant dancing on a giant piano.
It meant everything.
Didjya hear the news?
There’s a party going on right here,
in our big ol’ King bed.
In fact, I just caught Ziggy and Baby holding hands.
It was mighty adorable.
And while we’re on the subject of dogs,
and babies,
and beds,
do you know the way that my husband was roused from his 4am slumber this morning?
It had to do with this little mongrel
Not Lola, of course.
I’m talking Teddy. He’s my parents’ puppy. I guess that makes him my dog brother. He’s 11. He’s naughty.
He got up approximately 17,281 times during the night to lick, scratch, pant, whine, bark….You know, the us.
Not the best way for my husband to wake up.
By the way, that photo tickles me, because before we got Ziggy, Lola was Teddy’s staunch enemy. Now they’re just frenemies. Ziggy is Teddy’s arch rival, now. Dog has issues.
My mom calls him a “Mental Gefilte Fish”.
Last night, we called him some words that I will choose not to type on here.
Anyway,
do you know the way that my husband was roused from his 9am slumber this morning?
By these little hands, stroking his back. Oh, and there were giggles. And some “Ga ga ga wawawawawawa ga ga”s. You know, the us.
The best way for my husband to wake up.
Oh, and in case you were wondering. Those hands belonged to a teeny tiny itty bitty baby,
at just 2 weeks old.
They’re a bit bigger now, 21 weeks later.
And, if you can believe it, they’ve only grown yummier with age.
They now reach out to us, in order to be picked up.
They now stroke and massage with a purpose, which, believe you me, is the most beautiful feeling.
They now embrace, and hold us into strong baby hugs.
As far as milestones go, the hugging is pretty darn fabulous.
I’m thankful for Sunday morning pj parties just like this one,
because even though we may be a little less than bright eyed,
and none of our many tails are all that bushy at the moment,
we’re all together,
all 7 of us.
And, in case you wanted to know,
that is 14 eyes, 28 paws, 4 tails
and an infinite amount of bleary eyed, wet-nosed, heart pounding love.
My daughter now understands the word “more”.
When I’m feeding her oatmeal and ask her if she wants, “more? more?”,
she now opens her (tiny! adorable! Oh, is it tiny and adorable!) mouth as wide as she can,
as she kicks her legs with excitement.
It’s the first word that I have seen her really, truly, understand,
and it amazes me.
More.
It is so great.
And, it could also be a little dangerous.
Daddy? My bitty baby’s bitty Yorkie needs more hair bows!
More, please?
Mommy? Can we please karaoke that song from Aida one more time?
More, Mommy, more!
Wait.
Who am I kidding?
More bows for toy yorkies
and Karaoke? To Aida?
I’m all for it!
I hope that, for the rest of her life, I can always give her more of the good things that make her happy,
that make her sing,
and that make her kick her legs,
in pure, unbridled joy and thrill.
I love you, baby, and I will always do my best for you to have more.
1. I got an email from my online pregnancy calendar today, congratulating me on reaching a new pregnancy milestone.
2. I am not pregnant.
3. I am not pregnant, but sometimes, a craving or two sneaks it’s way in. I’ve been baking all day.
4. cravings
5. I got another email from my online pregnancy calendar today. It said that my baby is now 33 weeks old
6. I don’t think that’s correct.
7. I can’t be sure. I just tried to count 3 times, using a real, honest to goodness calendar, and I came up with 3 different answers. I’m not good at all this time stuff.
8. I’m still in my jammies.
9. When I get an email from my online pregnancy calendar, or look at pictures of my cute little pregnant belly, I get a tiny bit wistful. Just a teeny, tiny, itty, bitty bit.
10. When I get an email from my friend, discussing our New Year’s Eve plans, and I remember all of the bottles of champagne we’ve been saving for just this occasion, and the fact that this New Year’s Eve, unlike last New Year’s Eve, I can drink all of the bottles of champagne, and have the energy to stay up until midnight, I get a tiny bit overjoyed. Just a teeny, tiny, itty, bitty bit overjoyed. But, really, I mean a lot overjoyed.
11. I obviously don’t mean I will drink all of the champagne. Come on now.
11. I know that I already wrote an “11” but it’s my lucky number.
11. I’m now craving champagne.
14. I also like the number 14. And 7. And 18. And 36. And 2. And 22. And 222. My daughter was born at 2:22am. I’ve lost you now. I know it. I know I’m weird with numbers. I may be bad with them, but I love them anyway.
18. My oven is beeping. I must run.
222. No, I will not share.
1111: Okay, I will. But, only if you bring me champagne.
mommy, ever after 