an inbetweener

something that happened today has inspired me to write another little inbetweener.

i used to think i hated kids. thats why i didnt want any. but then i had my own kid and i was all like, "oh, i really like her, so maybe i don't hate kids?"

but then, this morning, just as i was getting used to the idea of not hating kids, some prick 5 year old boy at the park walked up to you, grabbed you by the arms, swung you to the side, threw you in the sand on your face, and kicked you. not like it would make it any better if there was a reason, but there was no reason. A RANDOM ACT OF HATE. you were just standing there coveting another little girl's cracker.

i was standing like 4 feet away. so was dickhead's non-english speaking nanny. actually i dont even know which non-english speaking nanny was his, because there was like 7 of them (and while we're on the subject, if you speak another language, never assume that the white girl doesn't understand your language... cuz i understood pretty much every word they said.... and it made me really happy that i dont have a nanny).

anyway, i ran and picked you up (you were too shocked to even cry, you just grabbed onto me and put your head on my shoulders and asked for a baba), and i SCREAMED at the little asshole, "DON'T YOU TOUCH MY BABY!!!" i didn't even get to see if i made him cry. i screamed in his face. i hope i did. i hope my outburst will steer him off the path of becoming a murderer and rapist, which he is clearly on his way to being.

i'm sure by now you've forgotten about the sandbox incident of '08. but i havent. i've been thinking about it all day. to me it was more than just a mean boy being a mean boy. i got to thinking about what advice i'm going to have for you when you're old enough to cry about being bullied at school.

when i was in school i was for the most part in the "popular" group. but even so there is always going to be someone who has better hair and is thinner and richer than you. it truly doesnt matter how cool you are. pretty much everyone gets bullied, and if you didn't get bullied than you probably were the bully, which basically means you suck.

so i thought long and hard about what the grownup advice way is to deal with bullies. and it occurred to me: i dont know. because even as a grownup - there are still bullies. and i still let them get me down. so rather than telling you how to deal with a situation when a bully makes you feel bad, i'll tell you this...

you're amazing. you are so precious and perfect and just really amazing. i never ever want you to feel anything other than that. you're not even a year and a half old - it didnt hurt your feelings when that horrible boy pushed you. but when the day comes that a horrible boy pushes you and you're old enough to understand - i hope you remember how wonderful you are. and how there is always at LEAST one person who you mean the entire world to.

for a while i will be able to fight your fights for you, but when the day comes that someone trips you, or pulls your hair, or makes fun of you, please remember how great you are. don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. above all other things, i hope the one gift of wisdom i can teach you is self worth. i hope that i can give you the tools to really know in your heart what a wonderful person you are and accept nothing but the most wonderful treatment from those around you.

in other words... when life gives you a face full of sand, build a castle.





love you,

mama

sixteen months

dear claire,

i have in my hand a crisp $20 bill. it's all yours if you stop growing up SO DAMN FAST. i mean, i don't want you to be like an elf or an umpaloompa or one of those strangely small women who shop in 'limited too' or something, but for the love of ham sandwiches do you know what we did tonight?... we painted your nails. hot pink. and then you gently blew on them. and then you looked at me and said "brrrit-taaaay!" so stop, ok? just stop. rewind a bit... maybe not all the way to colic crazy mcscreamerville, but how about those good ole' days when you stayed in one place, and goo gooed and ga gaad and didn't throw things at my face when you got mad? thanks. twenty bucks, thanks.









on the bright side, you're really fun. this whole learning-to-talk phase you've entered is just hilarious. you have about twenty-five useful words in your vocabulary, another five that mean something that someone in one of your other lives must have taught you (i have NO freaking idea what "bapo" means, but you seem to), and when you're in the right mood you will attempt to repeat pretty much anything i ask you to. including "love you", "cheers" and "obama looks like a retarded chimpanzee". i'm sorry, but he kinda does. talking is definitely one of your mad skillz... right up there with ruining expensive makeup and eating things off the ground that may or may not be day old cheerios.









this month you've kind of reminded me of one of those robots that becomes self-aware. you've been this little programmed pooping, screaming, effing stuff up machine until recently. you've discovered that you have a belly button, tooting is funny (i would like to go on record that i did NOT teach you that), and you are beginning to understand your feelings, and other's feelings. now your tantrums end with reaching out to me for a hug, instead of falling asleep on the floor. now you laugh at something funny (like a toot) and then look to me to see if i thought it was funny too (i do not). now you are beginning to realize that if you fall and i'm not there to catch you it will probably hurt, and if you do something hilarious and i'm not there to see it, it's not quite as hilarious.









you are the most empathetic child i've ever met. if you hit me and i make a sad face you realize you've hurt me and you start to cry and throw your arms around me. it's both incredibly pathetic and the sweetest thing i've ever witnessed. you remind me that in my hard-ass grownup world of paperwork, curse words and speeding tickets, people have feelings. and we should simmer down and care a little bit more about other people's feelings. in other words... pour your friend a glass of wine before you pour your own, she might need it more. you are wise beyond your years, darlin'.









i love that you are becoming your own person. there's been a lot of she-looks-like-me's in the last 16 months, but i think you've finally developed your little personality enough where i look at you, and i just see Claire. you move your own little way and look your own little looks and you're finally just YOU. you are constantly giving everyone more qualities to love about you.







your dad and i filed for divorce last week. it's stirred up a lot of guilty feelings on my part. i so badly don't want any decisions i've made in my life to hurt your life, ever. i swear to god i will make sure you have two really really fantastic homes. i've struggled with a lot of shoulda coulda woulda's in the last 16 months. but i've realized recently that the roads i've taken, good and bad, they've led me to you. and you to me. had i never gotten married, had i never gotten pregnant, had i never gotten divorced.... we wouldnt be the "us" that we are now. i love us. and i wouldnt trade this us for any other us in the world.

love you just as we are.



-mama


"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be." — Douglas Adams

fifteen months

dear claire,
month 15 was amazing. hands down, best month so far. first of all - you are a toddler now! toddling around like a drunken munchkin. you also have feelings.... lots of them. lots of dramatic feelings and you make choices, dramatic choices. and you sometimes feel so many feelings at once that you short circuit. soon you will be old enough to communicate and then you won’t violently burst into flames every time you have feelings. am i making sense? ugh.TANTRUMS - u haz dem.

we had quite the eventful mother's day weekend. mother's day morning we were playing in the living room and you got up and walked into my bedroom. as i was walking through the hallway following you in there you turned around and slammed the door. it was locked. there is no key. i frantically fussed with a bobby pin for about 5 minutes before i lost my shit and called 911. there are so many things in my room you could've killed yourself on. i was so scared. hysterical. i would have kung fu'd the door down myself if you hadn’t been sitting right behind it. it was really traumatic, for both of us i'm sure. 5 firemen came and rescued you. i held you and gave you a bottle and i cried a lot. if you ever do that again.... you are in so much trouble. that was the scariest 10 minutes of my entire life.

then after your nap you and i went to mother's day brunch. you were not in a great mood so i left you have about half a can of cheesy poofs to keep you from releasing the screams of displeasure upon all of woodland hills. you like cheesy poofs. then my omelet came and you wanted a piece. you put it in your mouth and gasped in excitement of the eggy delight. the omelet piece shot to the back of your throat. red, purple, blue, as i was grabbing you out of the high chair to do the heimlich you grunted and the piece of omelet flew about 5 feet across the table. you get an F for mother's day behavior. try harder next year please.

on a less deadly note... you are walking! like for reals big time walker baby. you are so brave. you fall a lot, sometimes hard... and you just get right back up and keep going. you are not very graceful, but you are tough. we celebrated your first steps by buying you lots and lots of cute $hoes. oh if only you were old enough to appreciate them. in the meantime i will appreciate them for you... in the dark... when our power gets turned off because i spent all the electricity bill money on size 4 infant adidas.

on to your funny new tricks. this month you learned some fun things. high five. touchdown. shaking your head no. screaming "all done!" you can locate a dog or a ball no matter where we are. you looked your nana in the eye and exclaimed "POPPA!" for the very first time. you climb stairs. you run. you drink from a straw. you've scared the jesusmaryandjoseph right out of me on several occasions by: standing up in your highchair when i turn my back, digging through my purse until you find a xanax and attempting to put it in your mouth, hitting your head on various tables, walls, chairs, floors and dishwashers, the afore mentioned 911 morning and heimlich afternoon, sleeping for four hours longer than you normally do (they say it's because you're getting molars... but i know you were just trying to make me wet my pants when i woke up at TEN IN THE MORNING and you were still silent in your crib), getting into the dishwasher and throwing a wine glass at my crotch - shattering it on the kitchen floor, throwing a potted plant across the kitchen at your nana's house, various fevers, rashes, erupting ear drums....

which brings me to my next story. TUBES. June 3rd you will be getting tubes in your ears. it only took the doctors 10 ear infections and 2 ruptured ear drums in 4 months to decide you need them. don't even get me started. anyways, i'm trying really hard not to go on the internet and research my way into hysterics. practically everybody has tubes. RIGHT? right. it takes like 15 minutes to put them in. it's an outpatient procedure. you won’t even know anything happened. the downside is that i have to leave you in a scary hospital room while you lay there knocked out cold from general anesthesia for 15 minutes. i might need to bring a "special" sippy cup for me to enjoy in the waiting room... i'm kidding.... no, i'm not. so i hope the tubes make you better. you pronounce "doggy", "DUH JOO" and i though i wanna think it’s a cute claire accent, i'm pretty sure it's cuz you can't hear a damned thing. you'd better come out of that surgery speaking in complete sentences. ok, thanks.

this month held a huge milestone for you as far as i'm concerned. no, not the walking. better than walking. loving. this month you've begun to show love. you used to only want me to hold you if i was going to give you food, or if you were scared, or tired. but now sometimes you will stumble over to me and give me a big hug just because you feel like it. you'll wrap your little arms around my leg and look up at me and smile. you love me and you know it. it's been so amazing watching this part of you grow. you are a compassionate and caring and loving little girl. it's unbelievable that you are the same tiny baby who was too small for preemie diapers. it's going by way too fast. right now you hug my knee, soon it will be my thigh, and then my waist... then the day will come when we'll hug heart to heart. i want you to know that throughout all the changes our lives will go through, the one thing that will never ever change is my love for you. no matter how high you hug, you will always be my baby girl.

love you back,

mama

fourteen months

dear claire,

14 months seems like it should be fairly anti-climactic. sorta like turning 23, or 77, or a hangover that lasts till january 2nd. but alas, you've found a way to make it special. you started taking steps this month! very gusty lunging steps into your mama's arms. maybe it's the fifth tooth, or the eighth ear infection, or the fact that i've been spiking your formula with steroids, but you are such a big girl, and you have no fear. you were standing by your fire truck looking at me like - "yeah, i can stand on my own, so what... take a picture it will last longer..." and i took a picture (so it would last longer) and then i held out my arms and said "come here to mama!" and you took two giant crazy baby steps and threw yourself into my arms. next on my list of things to dare you to do: "win the lotto for mama!" and "pour wine for mama!". don't worry, i have a whole list. we will get through it together.







you love dogs so much. so i got you a book that is essentially 17 dollars worth of dog photographs on cardboard. like seriously, there aren't even any words. publishers are smart. you are one year old. you cant read, nor can you sit long enough for me to read to you. but you know what you can do? violently throw 17 dollars worth of cardboard while screaming "DAAAAAAAAWG! DAAAAWWWWG! DUH! DUH! DAAAWGGG!" anyways, it's your favorite book, and assuming that it doesnt end up as evidence in an attempted murder trial (you've got quite an arm on you), some day you can pass it down to your very own dog loving child. hey, it's cheaper than buying an actual DAAAWG









this month you gave the world its first taste of toddler 'tude. here's an example:
toddler wants lipgloss tube. mama is using lipgloss tube. toddler yells out in despair! mama finishes glossing her lips and gives toddler the freaking lipgloss tube. toddler dramatically turns away as if to say I DONT WANT IT ANYMORE. mama insists toddler please take the GD lipgloss tube. toddler throws lipgloss tube and avoids eye contact with evil gloss hogging mama.







this month you marked your territory in the condo. i'm mean, finally, right?... how long was it gunna be until one of us peed on the carpet? so, here's how it went down:

you have a firetruck ride along push along toy thingy. you know what i'm talking about... it's decorated with really bright seizure inducing colors and makes lots of noise and gives you a dangerously false sense of security that you can "walk"... until you run it into a wall and smash your face in. one of those. so, today we got home from lunch and it was ridiculously hot out and we were both wearing jeans and all hot and sweaty so i took off your pants... then i'm like what the hell, and i took off your diaper and shirt and let you run (crawl) around and air out. i'm nice. you crawled over to your fire truck. you stood up. you lifted one leg up in the air. you placed your foot on the bell so the firetruck siren was going off. WOOOOO WOOOO WOOOOOO!!!!!!!! and then you put out the fire. like a dog. with one leg up. WOOOOO WOOOO WOOOOOO!!!!!!!! i've never been so proud (or so happy to have carpet cleaner on hand).





it's so hard not having you 100% of the time. it feels really unnatural. and it's not getting better. i guess i didn't expect it to get better. there's nothing 'better' about having an increasing amount of babyless time under your belt when you're a mother. i hear other mothers talk about needing a break, or time to themselves. i get it, i know the circumstances are different. but it really puts things into perpective for me. i never want a break from you. ever. i guess you don't really know what you're missing, until you're missing it. i went from not even wanting to have children, to hurting deep down in my heart just to see your face. when i hear your voice at 3am awake and wanting a bottle, i'm so happy. maybe our "circumstances" make me a better parent than i would have been. because really i just wanna spend every waking hour with you (even the hours that people shouldn't be awakin' at), and i know that's not normal. i wanna tell the other moms... i get all the "breaks" and i get all the "me time"... and when you really really have it, and you can't give it back - it sucks. maybe that's one of those things that's just nice to dream about.





on a happier note... you're a good snuggler. sometimes i get really selfish and when i go to bed at night i get you from your crib and i bring you into bed with me. why? that falls under parenting clause 247 section B "because i'm the mom and i feel like it". there are few things better than falling asleep staring at perfection. watching your chest rise and fall, knowing that the first time you did that was in my belly... staring at your sweet little lips and how they pucker just like mine... brushing your soft baby curls away from your eyes... holding your chubby little hand when you're too sleepy to pull it away... it just doesn't get much better than that.



oh wait, it does...

last week i woke up to you twirling my hair in your fingers. just like you twirl yours when i give you your night time bottle, it's your peaceful way of passing time and relaxing. you were laying on your side staring at my face, waiting for me to wake up, twirling my hair. when i opened my eyes you sat up right away. you grabbed my hand and put it on your hair, and rest your head on my tummy. so i twirled your hair too. if i could, i would quit my job and lay in bed and play with your hair and snuggle you all day. you love when i kiss your earlobes, and tickle your toes, and when i put out my arms and say "mama?" you throw yourself into my arms. i couldnt give you the full term pregancy you should have had, or the breast milk you'd have been better off with, or the unbroken family you deserved. but at 6:45 a.m. on a tuesday morning i gave you exactly what you needed. a mama to play with your hair.

sometimes, love is all we need.



love you twirly girlie,

mama