Wedding Bells are Ringing

In honor of the the coming celebration this Saturday, I’d like to gather words of encouragement for Charity and Andy. Married folks, what advice did you receive as engaged folks/newlyweds that you really appreciate? OR what advice do you wish you had received?

One of the best things told to me came from Angie Arms who had gotten married three weeks before Jeremy and me. During our reception she came up to me and told me to freeze frame this moment… Take a deep breath, look around and remember what this moment looks like, she said. En route to her honeymoon, she and her husband Randy talked at length about the wedding ceremony and reception and their perceptions of the details that had occurred. I loved this advice and used it on June 13, 1998, to help Jeremy and I make even greater memories of our wedding day.

Happy First Birthday!

first-birthday-livia

Dear Livia,

Happy first birthday! There are so many thoughts flitting around my brain that I almost don’t know where to begin this letter. But I’ll try to record coherent thoughts anyway. A few days ago I watched some old video clips of you. When you were 2.5 months old, you were trying valiantly to lift your head. You were laying on your stomach and grunting away, as though you were an Olympic competitor in weight-lifting. Your face and body were so teeny and helpless. You had something of a crewcut for a hairstyle—short and tight on the sides and back, long on the top. You were so small, so beautiful, so YOU. And yet, I could see just a faint whisper of your personality, a personality that is so evident today.

first-birthday-liviaToday you are such a full little being. You have a joyful personality, sometimes mischievous and rascally, and other times open and wholeheartedly happy. You have become a hugger, a snuggler, a head-resting-on-my-shoulder kind of girl. And though your daddy likes my hair both long and short, I’m considering leaving it long just so your sweet baby fingers can wrap themselves in my locks. You and I have developed a beautiful mother-daughter bond. I love being your chief comforter. And even though I greatly cherish my sleep at night, I still enjoy those 5:30am feedings that come up when you’re sick. They’re a special moment for just you and I, rocking in the darkness, no words, just bottle slurps, and lots of love and warmth between our two bodies. Though you’ll always be our little girl, these baby moments won’t last forever, so we enjoy what we have right now. We can tell you’re already on your way to being a toddler. Sometimes you look like such a big kid already, sitting up tall in the grocery cart or highchair at a restaurant, attempting to walk with our help or playing in the church nursery, or simply talking on and on in your baby garble.

first-birthday-liviaWe celebrated your first birthday party with close friends and family one week before the big day. The party turned out to be one we’ll never forget. Despite my attempts to control the barbecue—from coordinating balloon colors to organizing platters of food to decorating pink cupcakes—I could not, no matter how hard I wanted to, control the weather. Under a beautiful sunny sky we all huddled at Antelope Park in 57 degree weather. The wind cut through layers of clothing and those without warm coats were fairly miserable. And yet, to their credit, all our friends and family members stayed to celebrate YOU! The only person in attendance not celebrating you was you. And why was that? You had been drugged by your mother. Some well-meaning doctor the day before prescribed pseudoephedrine for your cold—little did I know it would snow you over during your first birthday party! Poor thing, you were so tired you could hardly hold your head upright and would cry if anyone tried to talk to you. Fortunately, on your actual birthday we were able to present you with a piece of cake and you, in true one year old fashion, smeared it all over yourself. At any rate, you had a very memorable first birthday party.

One year old. One year equals a surprising success for your daddy and me. Somehow we stumbled through masses of dirty diapers, untold numbers of bottles and formula canisters, more zerberts and tickles than we can count. In the past few days you’ve been learned to drink milk from a sippy cup—and boy are we proud! We can’t wait to see what this next year holds. We love you soooo much, Livia Raine. What a blessing you are.

Much love,
Mama and Daddy

**The pink blanket photo was taken by “Uncle” Jason during your birthday party. The smiley face pic was snapped by “Auntie” Renae the day before you turned one. Thanks, friends, for sharing these pictures!

Real Life Cooking

I was cleaning out our spice rack today and noticed some expiration dates from 2002. Does anyone know how long spices can truly sit on the shelf? Most of them look and smell just fine…

1st Haircut

After two trim jobs at home, Livia was treated to a professional haircut by the very lovely, very talented stylist, Carrie Nickeson of C&A Images (she also happens to be one of my closest friends). Carrie, mother to twin four year olds, perched Livia on an extra block in the hotseat, outfitted her in a baby smock, then gave her toys for each hand and voila! the cut was completed in no time. It was the cutest thing this first-time mama has ever witnessed. I must say I was proud that my 11 month old sat so still and was so patient. That’s the thing with being a first-time mother, you think every first experience, every first activity, is just the greatest thing ever and that your child is the most amazing being ever to walk the face of this earth. Livia will have successfully completed her first year of life this Saturday, so I think I’m justified in letting my buttons burst with pride. These “firsts” only happen once, right? And this kid is just so darn cute…

I Fought the Law(nmower) and the Law(nmower) Won

I stooped to a new level of low last Friday. I called my lawnmover “sexist.”

The accusation wasn’t without merit entirely. Several weeks prior I tried in vain to get it running and the darn thing wouldn’t start. Lo and behold, my father showed up and got the motor purring in no time. So last Friday I began the lawnmowing chore with a chip on my shoulder. And when I couldn’t get the mower going I pitched a girl-fit. Nothing frustrates me more than not being able to do a MAN’s job because I’m a GIRL. Stinkin’ sexist lawnmower!

In the middle of my rage, and my second attempt to get the mower running, my husband shouted out a new instruction and while my mouth blabbed on about how that wouldn’t work, the motor started. What in the world…? I instantly felt ashamed of my bad attitude and my negative lawnmover feelings and then I noticed a new problem. Somehow our duel speed, self-propelled mower turned into a push mower. Grrrr. I began internally lamenting arthritis woes and imagining the pain my elbows would be feeling the next day. After pausing to empty the mulch bag my dear husband again gave instruction. What’s that…? I wasn’t pulling the gear drive? So our mower is still self-propelled and I was pushing it just because I’m stupid? Yup. Lovely.

Turns out my lawnmower isn’t sexist. Turns out it isn’t in the habit of causing undue pain either. Turns out I need a few lessons in anger management and mechanics. Sigh. When will I ever learn?

The good thing is that I love to mow our little lawn. God gave us the perfect sized yard for us to tend and we really enjoy working on it. I mowed while Jeremy and Livia played on the steps. Jeremy then swept the walks and I deadheaded the old tulip and daffodil blooms while Livia tossed Cheerios around the front porch. Soon we’ll be putzing around a little vegetable patch, pulling weeds and examining the plants daily. And next time the yard needs to be mowed, I’ll be ready.

Bookmark

I’ve got the US Consumer Product Safety Commission’s website bookmarked on my computer for a quick update on infant product recalls. It’s a helpful site for parents to check out on occasion. I noticed a CNN article this morning on child chair recalls due to possible amputation of fingers when it collapses. Yikes.

Why I’m Not Writing

There’s nothing like good old fashioned tiredness to keep one from blogging. So there, that’s my excuse. In a few short minutes I will nap in order to do other necessary daily tasks like bathe, fashion some semblance of dinner for my family, and carry on conversation without complaining. Livia, darling sweet girl that she is, is going through a version of separation anxiety which I hear will pass someday (please, God, let that be soon). The shrieks, screams, cries and grunts emitted from her teensy body can be a bit of a handful to reckon with. Besides this new stage, teeth #6-9 are emerging and causing all kinds of angst. Cold washcloths, 3 different teething rings, Hylands and Tylenol — yes, none of these can really cure Livia’s pain. Dull and dampen it, perhaps. In the meantime, Livia and I can both be found in our respective beds, sometimes with little tears in our eyes. Woe is us.

*Internet friends: Don’t read too much into this. Like Gloria Gaynor, I will survive… after I’ve had a nap, of course.

T.A.R. Tonight

Joyce, you rock. Honestly, you’re my hero.

Gretchen. Geez, will you get off the stinkin’ elephant already?!

Amber & Rob, I will [fill-in-the-blank with drastic measure] if you win this race. Boo hiss. I used to appreciate your competitive natures but you’ve worn me out. Go back to Survivor.

Happy Eleven Months!

Dear Livia,

You’re now officially eleven months old and we have a few small weeks until your age can be recorded in years. Wow. I look at teeny newborn babies and simply wonder how my baby got to be so big!

Right now you’re in your crib where you’re supposed to be taking your morning nap. Instead of sleeping you are talking away, mostly in your favorite “a-a-a” voice, and rattling the sides of your crib. The rattling is a new thing. You’re suffering (quite greatly according to your cries) from your first real cold and you seem to be personally insulted by the runny nose and chest congestion. The cold so far has proven how very blessed I am as your mother to have a baby who is normally content and happy. Your crying kills me, both because I can’t always console you and because we’re enjoying little peace in the Tredway household. So while I pray for healing for you, I’ll continue to administer baby Tylenol (which you kind of like) and nose-wipes (which you hate with a fiery passion).

This month’s letter seems to be an appropriate time to mention how funny you are. Your facial expressions, your attitude, your body language, your words—they make us laugh each and every day. Even your pathetic “da-da” noises, said while starting to cry from whatever’s making you unhappy, are cute. The best thing of all, though, is your laugh. Who knew that baby laughter could elevate one’s soul to a heavenly realm? You have a bona fide sense of humor which just blows us away. Here you are, a new body and new mind in baby packaging, and you think things are funny. Amazing! The other day your dad was sweeping the living room floor and you, in your high chair, let out a little “heh heh.” I tend to think of Jeremy’s sweeping as necessary and mundane, but to you it was chuckle-worthy. And that silly Baby Einstein DVD we put on to entertain you when nothing else could? Oh yes, that too elicited a laugh. You offer toothy grins now in exchange for being jiggled, shaked and shimmied. I can already tell you and Daddy will be doing some serious wrestling in a few short years.

A few weeks ago you blew your first kisses—I thought my heart would crack in two from the sweetness! You sent them to Grandma & Grandpa Tredway and Auntie Bean & Eric. They, too, thought it was amazing. As your parents we are privileged to oooh and aaah at all your sweet, special firsts. In no time at all we’ll be celebrating your first year of life outside the womb. We say special prayers of thanks for the birthmother who lovingly carried you for nine months, for the birthfamily that cherished you for a short time after you were born, and for all the special people who helped in our adoption process. We can’t imagine our lives without you! Livia, you are the most beautiful 11 month old. Your daddy and I love you like we’ve never loved anything before.

Love,
Mama

Today

It’s obvious that I am being kept busy and haven’t had much time to blog recently. Something in my life (hint: she’s cute and eats buckets of Cheerios) leaves me little time for blogging and besides that wonderful Something, I kind of feel like deleting my blog and being done with it forever. Well, maybe not forever, but just for a time. There is some pressure in Blogland to post on a regular basis—at least that’s what I expect out of my own blogging friends. Also, the scope of my blog audience sometimes discourages me from writing and I can’t help but wonder why in the world I should post personal information about my life for the entire word to read. Hm. Instead of writing freely, recently I’ve been imagining what others are thinking of my words. I’m being hindered by my very own expectations…

Despite my negative thoughts on blogging, I do have something positive to offer on this lovely spring morning. Spring is my favorite time of the year! I love going for walks, gardening, eating alfresco, talking with neighbors on the porch, people-watching and most of all feeling the warm sun on my face and shoulders. Thank you, God, for spring.