View from the Prairie Box

You know you’re an Extrovert when…

…you go next door (you know, where the party’s at) and within moments your body is reinvigorated and your spirit is renewed.

Just Read:

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, David Sedaris; The Time Traveler’s Wife, Audrey Neffenegger

Still Reading:

The Five Love Languages, Gary Chapman; And Then I Had Kids, Susan Alexander Yates; The Jane Austen Book Club, Karen Joy Fowler; Reading Lolita in Tehran, Azar Nafisi

Just Watched:

Meet the Fockers, Sideways

Still Watching:

Buffy and Angel

I am not a “multiple book reader” so it’s no surprise I haven’t finished the Jane Austen or Lolita books. The others I’m currently reading are for ongoing studies. The books in the just read category were purchased specifically for vacation and, though they engaged my interest, I did not love either one. Meet the Fockers gave me a laugh or two (I thought Barbara Streisand’s character was pretty funny) but overall was quite lame. Sideways received a far more favorable review from me. It was fairly depressing, painted with a broad stroke of realism (which gets gritty), but also ever so slightly redemptive. I enjoyed it.

And there you have it, another edition of “This Blog Isn’t Always about Livia.” Thank you for stopping by.

Dear Livia,

You are now 14 months old and you’re looking more like a toddler than ever. A very pudgy bald little boy sat behind us on the airplane a week ago—he, too, was 13 months old and looked the part of a baby. I think you actually look a bit older now simply because you have lots of hair and you’re a slender little thing. You’re gaining weight now, I can see it around your face, and your muscles are getting stronger everyday. While we were on vacation you started taking multiple steps in a row while clinging on to my fingertips. Now, look out world because Livia no longer wants to sit down; she’d rather be walking! My theory is that you love walking so much because it lets you explore the world with your feet. If there’s a knothole in our wood floors, your toes have to touch it. If there’s a crack in the concrete sidewalk out front, that’s where you’re headed. Even when you’re playing on your back and want a toy, why let your fingers do all the work? Just stretch out those baby feet and get the job done! And I thought my toes were talented…

In the beginning of June we had a few tests done on you. You thought you were just playing with toys and then being oh-so-cruelly manhandled on the floor, but really we were having your skills evaluated. To make an hour long evaluation story shorter, let me just tell you that you’re the first 13 month old I know to have to take summer school! Turns out that summer school isn’t such a bad gig. It involves a very kind and gentle physical therapist coming to our living room and playing with us on a biweekly basis. And guess what you’ve proven in the past four week, at least in my thinking… You don’t need summer school after all. You’ve caught up, in your own sweet timing, and you’ve made significant progress from that day in early June. We pretty much think that you’re going to skip crawling and go straight to walking now. Still, we’re learning a lot from our PT and I’m glad to have her come point out how tremendously you’re getting along.

Besides the walking, you’ve learned to do all sorts of fun things this past month. You show much self-control by not pointing out facial parts anymore. On a rare occasion you’ll bless us with a point to a nose or ear when asked, but mostly you seem like you’re bored with that tired old game. You can also moo like a cow (when you want to, of course) and eagerly point to the stuffed cow hanging on your nursery wall. You can also point out butterflies in your bedroom. You kiss and snuggle in the most beautiful baby fashion, sometimes patting my shoulder as your burrow your head into my neck. Sometimes the kisses are close-mouthed accompanied by lip-smacking noises, other times they involve a little more saliva, say, with the tongue. But you know what? Though I’m grossed out by open-mouthed slobbery kisses from other kids, I LOVE LOVE LOVE the ones you give me. Nothing touches my heart like a Livia-generated smooch.

You have a very sharp mind behind those big blue-grey eyes. You watch everything Daddy and I do and, more often than not, you imitate our actions. (Yep, uh-oh for us.) You wave, blow kisses, try to snap your fingers, open and close your mouth and “talk” with us on a daily basis. You are now learning the art of the fake cry and sometimes will make pathetic whimpers and boo-hoos to get our attention. But guess what, kiddo? Your mama is a champion crier/manipulator, so good luck with that one. What may work with Daddy will probably not work with me! So far you’ve chosen to use your powers for good, not evil, so even though your mind is quick, I’m glad to see that you’re still our beautiful, sweet Livia. Every night I thank God for blessing us with such an amazing girl and every night that sentiment is absolutely honest. We pray that God grants us wisdom to raise you in a righteous manner, that He forgives the many mistakes we make, and that He makes us stronger role models for you. May you glorify Him today in your own baby way.

Love,
Mama

She’s been brainwashed! BRAINWASHED, I TELL YOU!!! I haven’t pulled out the ole finger-in-your-throat, “gag me” sign since sixth grade until I read this line, “Tom and I will always be in our honeymoon phase.”

Barf-o-rama.

If you are waiting my table in the South and you are older than me, you are more than welcome to call me sugar, hon, darlin’, or sweetheart.

If, however, you are a male in your early 20’s taking my order from behind the Wendy’s cash register in Platte City, Missouri, you are SO NOT ALLOWED to call me hon, twice. Understood?

I’m tucked away on some green berber carpet in a corner of a hotel room rightnow, lit only by the flourescent bathroom lights that spill onto my legs. All this in vain hopes that a particular 13 month-old chills out and passes gently into Dreamland despite the fact that she’s not in Kansas (or rather Nebraska) anymore.

She’s in St. Simons Island, Georgia. With her mother. And her Nana and Papa. Her uncles and aunt departed yesterday. Tomorrow her great uncle and great aunt, and second cousins, will head home as well.

Besides the regional differences, including all the “y’alls”, sweet tea and pecan pie, Livia is getting to experience the coastal life for the first time. Well, she’s not really “getting” to—she’s kind of being forced into it by her mama. I haven’t yet gotten her to choke down a piece of shrimp or crabcake, but I did insist that she hang out with me in the warm, shallow tide at the beach this afternoon. Wave after wave crested over my knees as she made pathetic “boo-boo” noises, never letting me forget the fact that she didn’t feel at all thrilled with the salty water. Like her dad, I think this one is happier on land where she can dig her little toes deep into the sand.

I’ve been thinking a lot about vacations, why we take them and how they tend to be a rare treat in my circles. I’d like to become one of those families who goes on holiday (see, I’m pretending to be European!) on a regular basis in order to regain rest and one’s senses. This entire vacation I’ve been wishing that I had a laptop of my own so I could spend some good time writing. I’ve never been the pencil and paper type of writer—they slow down my thoughts too much and I give up before I’ve captured anything worth capturing. Getting away from home, encountering new people, smelling new odors, eating new dishes, they all grant me a spark of creativity that sometimes goes missing from my day to day life.

Shoot. I just heard a wail from the munchkin. Sigh… Getting this kid to sleep in the same room as me has been interesting. I can’t wait until we’re at home again and I’m sharing a room with my gorgeous husband while she’s across the hall her own space. For now, though, I’ll continue to enjoy my brief time left on the island. More beach time, more shopping, more sleeping and reading. After all, isn’t that what vacation is for?

Last night we were in the middle of doing the cross-crawl with Livia (a crawling exercise recommended by Brook) and singing songs like Frere Jacques and Happy Birthday when Renae burst out, “Oh yeah! TODAY IS LIVIA DAY!” And we all recognized with joy that indeed today was Livia Day and we promptly cheered and celebrated our smiley 13 month old with much enthusiasm.

One year ago, on June 26, a beautiful seven week old baby girl was placed into our arms. The moment was filled with expectation, great joy, a surprising amount of anxiety, and empathetic sadness for the birthfamily which had loved her (and still loves her) greatly. It was definitely one of the most beautiful, most profound days of our lives and we’re still overwhelmed sometimes by the fact that God has given us such an amazing child to be our daughter.

Livia Day this year was celebrated by kiss-blowing, belly button-pointing, a lot of wiggling and squiggling, and plenty of hugs and snuggles. I wonder what this child will be doing next year on her day?

Dear Livia,

I love your sense of humor. Sometimes I’m completely amazed how God has created this little baby wrapping with a startling sense of funny inside. Actually, your daddy and I often are in awe of you—that you’re a living, breathing little person with your own custom-made personality! You are completely, 100% Livia—no one else is just like you. And as your own little being, you have unique and quirky sense of humor, which I adore.

You think the America’s Best Eyeglasses commercial is funny. Personally, I think it’s a bit bizarre with its photographed human heads that bobble on animated bodies. But for whatever reason, it tickles your funny bone and never fails to elicit a smirky laugh.

You also like to look at yourself in mirrors, throw up your arms and legs and laugh intensely. You continue to giggle at Daddy, whether he’s being intentionally silly or not, and if I dance around the room with enough vim and vigor you’ll laugh at me, too. You like to make silly faces and you’ve nailed the Silly Bottom Wiggle dance with perfect rhythm. You clap, you shriek, you scream with baby glee.

Thanks for keeping us laughing, Livia. We’re having lots of fun at 13 months.

Much love,
Mama

I need some tips on air travel with baby in tow. We’re headed to the beach in a little over a week and I’m mostly concerned with two things: fixing our umbrella stroller and finding a backpack to carry Livia in.

Our umbrella stroller works really well (yay for this $4 garage sale find), but the handles are too low to make it work comfortably for this 5’9″ mama. If anyone has a decent solution to this problem, preferably one that doesn’t involve duct tape, please let me know. Also, I like to use our Baby Bjorn for short distances (A&K, it’s been a great gift this past year, by the way) but I think a backpack would work better for this vacation. Again, any recommendations?

Finally, moms/dads/grandparents/nannies out there, feel free to offer advice on how to make travelling with baby a bit easier. We’ve done the roadtripping thing, but this is Livia’s first time flying the friendly skies.