On Your Fourth Birthday

Dear Hannah,

I don't even know how to start this particular letter. It seems impossible that we've spent 4 years with you, 48-months of non-stop parenting. Last night, as I was putting you to bed, you told me that you were so excited to be four years old, and you immediately followed it up with, "But I'm still little Mommy, don't worry." Oh, my heart!

I'm certain I say this every year on your birthday (and if not every day, then close to it,) but you are one funny kid. Truly, you're hilarious. Sometimes you mean it, sometimes you don't. But trust me, kiddo. You're a laugh-a-minute. Your comedic timing is nearly impeccable, and while I'm certain that it's unintentional 99% of the time, you still slay me with your one-liners and your running commentary about everything under the sun. (Literally. Now that the days are shorter, every.single.day. we have a conversation that starts with you asking me or your dad, "Hey, where's the sun?")

This has been a pretty incredible year for you. You started preschool. You traveled to Michigan and got to stay in a hotel and eat at restaurants, "like a big girl does!" You got your first haircut. You have learned to write your name, and you're learning to read. You're learning more and more how to play with other kids and be around bigger groups. You know all the things you "should" know at this age, and you're constantly soaking up more and more. Nothing gets past you. Eventually, you'll realize this is something that all parents say about their children, and it's probably true. Kids are sharp, and as a demographic, you don't get half the credit you deserve. But you, my dear. You miss nothing. You will ask me questions about people and places and things we haven't seen for months. You ask the tough questions.

"Mommy, how to airplanes work?"
"I dunno baby. Magic?"
"No, Mommy. How do they work?"
"Extra-special magic. Airplane magic."
"Ugh, fine. I'll just ask Daddy."

You keep me on my toes. You always want to know what's next, what's coming. You love your daily schedule and the calendar we keep with you. You also love your independence. You are an independent woman, and you'll be damned if someone will make you do something that you don't want to do. As trying as it is most days, I always remind myself that this trait is a blessing. It's true I always wanted a daughter, but I never wanted her to be passive. You are every bit the strong-willed, stubborn girl I wanted. Don't ever change. Would it be easier if you were more "agreeable" or yielding? Absolutely! But you wouldn't be you, my dear. You are stubborn and strong-willed and determined and every bit the challenge I'd hoped you would be. I never wanted to be complacent as your mom (or as anyone's mom,) and you do your best to make sure that never happens.

I never quite know how to describe you to people. At this stage, you're pretty "girly." Your favorite colors are, "pink and purple and lellow and green and....well, actually, I like ALL the colors!" You would rather wear a dress over pants any day, and your color of choice is pink. All that aside, you still love to get dirty. You prefer when your hair isn't combed or pulled back, and there is literally nothing you won't climb. You're happiest outdoors with Daddy, and when you're reading a book. I think if I dumped you in a princess dress, barefoot, in the middle of the woods on a rainy day, you wouldn't mind a bit. That is exactly the type of environment where you'd thrive.

You and your dad. Daddy and Hannah. You are exactly the pair I envisioned long before you were even born. You feed off of one another and you get sillier and sillier. I can usually find the two of you in the backyard digging up something, planting something, or in the middle of an impromptu session of Nature 101. I'm so glad you have a dad who is not only willing, but eager to teach you all about the outdoors. Because of him, you aren't afraid of animals or insects or anything I hate. You have so much power in such tiny little fingers; you can convince your daddy to do anything or take you anywhere. It's not always that you're foxy, more that you're having so much fun together, you can't stop. I think that's why you have such a tough reaction to any sort of discipline from your dad. I think you expect it from me--you know I'll make good on my promises to pull your privileges or put you in time outs--but I think from your dad, it hurts more. You know you've pushed when Daddy is the one putting you in time out and not me. But really, after a few minutes, you're the best of friends again. The two of you make my heart so happy.

Of all the traits that make you who you are, the most surprising to me is how much you love art. You LOVE to create and paint and draw and color. Those aren't traits or skills that either of your parents have, and truthfully, painting bores me. But you? Oh, you love it. When you get to go to "the studio" at school or when we bust out the finger paints on a rainy day, you are at your happiest.

Music is another one of your great loves these days. I swear, you can hear a song once, maybe twice, and you've got it down. Hilariously, your artists of choice are very Top 40: Maroon 5, Katy Perry, Charli XCX...you know it all. I know it bothers you, but do you know how hard it is not to laugh when you howl with Adam Levine during "Animal" or when you ask for "the boom and clap" song for the fifth time any given morning? I don't care if it's all bubblegum and nonsense, they're you're favorite songs, and no matter where I'm at any time or any day, I think I'll always smile when I hear "your songs" come on the radio. (You still have like, 10 Beatles songs committed to memory, so you're doing okay there. Hilariously, you knew very few nursery rhymes when you started preschool.)

Your imagination never stops, and I love the crazy things you come up with. One minute you're "building a hiding place" with Sofia the First and whatever stuffed animal (your "pets," as you call them) is your second favorite at the moment. The next, you're deep-sea diving or climbing a mountain or huddled under a blanket reading a book. I get so blown away by you sometimes that I forget to join in the fun with you.

You have always been such an active little girl. I don't know that I recall a time where you didn't love moving around and jumping and spinning. My little sense seeker. Even when you're asleep, I feel like some part of you is moving or wiggling. You love to dance and spin and go on adventures--and everyday with you is an adventure! There's nothing you won't try at least once, and if it gives you the chance to jump and get some of that much-needed sensory input, then everyone better stand back! Hannah Grace is ready to have fun! It's one of my favorite things about you.

This past year, we got a diagnosis for you that I'd always suspected. Something in me just knew, long before we knew your name. The thing is, I don't even care. It's part of you, it's who you are. Before you were born, and when you were a tiny baby, it was one of my greatest fears. Before we knew definitively, there were days when I worried how we'd get through it all or what our next steps would be. Would you truly be okay? What if we couldn't give you what you needed? Once we heard officially, I'd made my peace with it, and my primary concern was you. Hannah, I want you to be the best version of you. No matter what it takes or how long it takes, I want you to be the best possible version of you. It's a marathon, not a sprint, but we're getting there, baby. Everyday, we're getting there.

Sometimes you get overwhelmed or scared. Sometimes you don't know what to do, and you insist that you can't do it. Here's the thing: you can do anything you want, and you will. Like I tell you almost everyday, you can do hard things. You WILL do hard things.

I don't want to say what the dx is right now because frankly, it isn't important. We will cross that bridge eventually. But here is what I want you to know:

Your diagnosis does not define you.
You are not your diagnosis.
I will always be on Team Hannah, and I will be your strongest defender.

What defines you is your sense of humor, your impish smile, your full-body belly laugh, your love of reading. You are defined by what you bring to this world, and you have brought so much joy to so many people. You are defined by what you do and share, not by any diagnosis on a chart or in a folder.

You are a smart, happy, curious human being. You are important, not just to me and your dad, but you are important and you have a role to play in this world. You refuse to settle for less than your best. You are active and sharp. You are funny. You are a constant truth-teller, and if there's one thing you literally can't do, it's lie. You are Hannah, and you are not your diagnosis.

You are NOT broken. You are not weird. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with you. I know I will spend a lifetime saying this, but you have to trust me here. Everything about you, every little quirk and smile, every giggle and puzzle piece, you are the summation. If anything about you were different, you wouldn't be our Hannah.

There will be days that are hard. You've already had some bad days, and they broke my heart only because I was angry that people couldn't see you. There will be people who only see your diagnosis, people who have their own definition for it. There will be people who see a problem to be fixed, people who will make assumptions about you based on your diagnosis alone. Those people won't see the bright, silly girl you are. They won't see how smart and curious you are. They won't see how much you love to read and dance. They won't see you and they won't see all the wonderful things that make up Hannah. And baby? Those people suck. Trust me on this one; you don't want to be around them anyway.

I can't promise you everyday will be easy. I can't promise you that every child will want to be your friend. The day someone rejects you outright and you realize how much it hurts is still in the future, but I'm already steeling myself against it. The thing is, you're a pretty resilient person, so while I tell myself that I'm preparing for you to be upset and devastated, it's entirely possible you will be comforting me.

I can promise you that everyday (yes, even the bad days where I threaten to leave you at the zoo or sell you down the river,) every single day, I will be on your side. I can't live your life for you, and I don't want to--you'd miss out on so much! But I will be there every step of the way until you're ready to fly. I promise that together--you, me, and Daddy--we will keep working on Hannah. I promise that I will never try to "fix" you, only that we will teach you the skills you need. I promise that if anyone in our lives tries to put you down or insinuate in any way that you are "less than," I will Shut.It.Down.

I can't wait to see what the next year will bring you. You've already had so many adventures! How will you grow? How will you change? How much fun are we going to have together? I don't know the answer to any of those questions right now, but I know that we will have so much fun finding out together. I love you, baby. Daddy loves you. You are loved so, so much.

Happy Birthday, Presh.

I Heart Family Picnics 2011

I am terrible at taking photos every year at the family picnic. Some year I'll get better at it.

Anyway, in July, we all got together in Plainfield for the annual Foley Family Fiesta, a.k.a. I Heart Family Picnics #something or other. It's a good time to see everyone, and this year was special not only because it was Hannah's first outside picnic (after last year's car accident/t-shirt fiasco), but because our second cousin Peggy is engaged to her long-time boyfriend Jeremy. 

Not too many photos of this year's picnic, but it was a good time. Hannah got to swim in a legitimate pool (i.e. not the 6-incher we have in the garage), we got to eat some food, and we had a great time relaxing with the fam.

Really unsure of this "swimming" thing.

"Mommy?"

Hannah and Daddy

Aw crap...Justin lost the baby.

Me, sucking at bags.

Who took this photo? I think that's Justin, Graham, Mary, and maybe Hannah.

Mary and Justin, head to head

Hannah and Gramps

Hannah says....I've got a cousin!

When we explained the concept of  "a cousin" to our daughter, she was totally pumped. Someone to hang out with and have fun with? Someone to play with? Someone to cause mischief and mayhem with? Yessssssss! So, aside from the little guy's parents, no one was more excited to welcome Declan to the world than Hannah.

We hope you're listening, dude!

Eight Months Old!

Hey look! A monthly update that's not a month late! Woot!

Well, if you've been paying attention, you know now that Hannah is 8 whole months old. That's ridiculous. When I was 8 months preggers, I thought I was going to die before I met my baby. I feel like the first 8 months of her life have whizzed on by. She's humongous, and I know I say it each month, but she really is growing like crazy. I can't get over how much she's changed.

Month 1. Month 2. Month 3. Month 4. Month 5. Month 6. Month 7. Looking at her one-month photo session reminds me that I need to take a picture of her wearing her Baby Legs again. They don't fall off! She's got some thunder thighs holding those puppies up.

Speaking of thunder thighs, Hannah weighs approximately 17 lbs. It was hard to get a good reading at her last weigh in because she wouldn't stop scooting on the scale. Last week the closest they could get was 17 lbs. The week before, she weighed 16 lbs, 15 oz. The nurse weighing her tried for a few minutes and just called it a scratch at 17 lbs. Squirmy Wormy? Most definitely.

Hannah's world is still very small, but her level of curiosity is ridiculous. She wants to see and touch everything, and then shove it into her mouth. That, naturally, makes eating pretty easy. There's very little we feed her that she won't eat. Her favorite foods are sweet potatoes, apples, peaches, green beans, and BANANAS. Holy hell, does that kid love bananas.

We've also branched out into the world of self-feeding, or rather, Hannah's told us that she's moved on to self-feeding. She's been reaching for the spoon and grabbing at purees for quite a while, and now that we've introduced her to more textures, she's started eating/playing with different finger foods. Mum-mum is her favorite right now, probably because it's easy to manipulate and she can bite or nibble at it. She's been introduced to puffs but right now those are ending up on the floor, in her lap, in the high chair...pretty much everywhere except her mouth.

She's played with teething biscuits, but she mostly sucks on those. She likes the taste, but they're so hard that she never gets a good enough grip on them to bite down.

The last few days have been interesting because something clicked in her head and now she can push herself up on all fours. We were playing over the weekend and she went from laying down to the baby push-up to all fours all in one motion! Graham and I have to start moving things like the fish tank filter and the cat toys now that she's starting to figure out how to move all her limbs.

Not that she's got any trouble moving herself as it is. She loves to roll around and that's her preferred method of getting from Point A to Point B. She is very independent and explores everything in her world. When she wants something, she's very vocal about getting it. Sometimes she doesn't think she's done nursing--or more appropriately, when she just wants to use me as a human pacifier--and I move her to my shoulder, she's been known to throw herself around and worm herself back down to my boobs. This is far more difficult to manage and much less hysterical than when she was a newborn and would headbutt anyone and everyone until there was a boob in her mouth.

And, like most babies, she's crazy about her feet. She's especially fond of them when it's time to change her diaper or get her dressed for the day.

Her favorite toys? Anything that makes a crap ton of noise. She loves her stacking cups and just recently figured out how to bang them together repeatedly. She has a V-Tech nursery rhyme book that is annoying as hell--so naturally she loves it. She also loves her "smart phone", which was a gift from friends of ours.

Anything having to do with music, really, is a big favorite of hers. Maybe this is because I've always been a singer, and since the day she arrived I try to sing to her each day. Whatever the reason, she loves music! I'm not going to complain, because it's something that we'll be able to share as she grows--provided her tastes don't change.

We read to her each night, and lately our bedtime favorites include, "I Love You All The Time", "Wherever You Are, My Love Will Find You", "The Runaway Bunny", and "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" (Hey, they can't all be sentimental!) She loves books, but that's just a side-effect of her love for paper. Anything that crinkles, snaps, crackles, or pops, and she's on it like white on rice.

Nanner continues to be incredibly easy-going and happy. I really can't get over it! She makes friends everywhere she goes--much like me--and she's a people person for certain. At church over the weekend, we saw some women we hadn't seen in quite some time (because we've been super bad about going to church) and they gushed over how big she's gotten and how alert she is. My kid? Oh, yeah, she ate it up.

Funnily enough, she knows more people at our parish than I do! Her babysitter was always taking her to and from school with her sons each day, so Hannah is well-acquainted with the principal, teachers, and families of St. Rene. I can't wait for the parish picnic in a few weeks so I can formally introduce myself as "Hannah's Mom" to some of these mystery families.

We couldn't have a month go by without everyone's favorite feline!

Seven Months Old!

So I kind of suck at getting her monthly updates posted in what some might call a "timely manner". Oops. Better late than never? Or ever?

The parent who first had the idea to take monthly photos of their little one said it first: "These pictures are getting harder and harder to take!" Why? Because I have a baby who is increasingly interested in the world around her and wants to explore EVERYTHING. It's wonderful and miraculous and amazing, but also impossibly difficult to take a picture of her unless I restrain her. Have you ever tried to restrain a baby? It's not easy. Kinda leaves you asking, "Oh my God, how is she stronger than me?????"

Month One. Month Two. Month Three. Month Four. Month Five. Month Six.

As you can see, Hannah's growing like crazy. Her dad's genes have kicked into high gear and she's shooting straight up. She's most definitely a G@%$%(@!( baby, that's for certain.

Note: the above photo is important. She discovered the skirt at the bottom of the chair. We'll come back to this.

Hannah's eating lots of purees and quasi-solids these days, and I am attributing her insta-height to the introduction of solids. I'm a medical professional, and thus I can state the previous with conviction. I did my undergrad at Google University and went to med school at WebMD State. Top of my class over there.

Her favorite things this month? Bananas, bananas, and more bananas. For shiz. It's like baby crack for her. I cannot shove the darn things in fast enough.

She also likes to roll around pretty much everywhere. This month, she really figured out how to worm her way around to get to what she wants. She can't crawl, but she doesn't need to. Eventually she'll find a way to get to what she wants. For example, when she's sitting up and something is just out of reach, instead of leaning forward, she'll just thrust herself forwards and land on her belly. She's got balls, that's for sure. She is NOT afraid of getting hurt, until she does, and then she's unhappy.

She's also developed a bit of a Napoleon Complex. Girlfriend totally thinks she's bigger than she is. It's really hysterical.

Her comedic timing? Impeccable. It's a crime that she has no idea what she's doing. She's always on cue with a smile or laugh or giggle, and I still don't know what's funnier--that she's doing it at all, or that she's doing it completely unprompted and without any idea why it's funny.

Also, she hates to smile and laugh.

Absolutely hates it.

I swear, sometimes it's like we live with Lurch from the Addams Family.

Obviously, I'm full of crap. This kid smiles and laughs all day. It's all she does! Unless she's crying, and that's usually because one of three things happened:

1. She fell over and bumped her head.
2. She's hungry and just realized it, in which case baby is HONGRY. STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING AND FEED MEEEEEEE! (This is a trait I practically gift-wrapped for her.)
3. She's overtired and hasn't napped well (or at all) because she's too busy looking at everything around her.

Generally, she's a really happy and relaxed, chill baby. Not a day goes by that I don't look at her and wonder why I am so blessed.

Okay, remember that picture from before? Look at the above photo. See how she's all "ZOMG CHAIR SKIRT IS THE BEST THING EVERRRRRR!!!!"?? Yeah. About 0.00002 seconds after I took this photo, she flung herself forwards and hit her head on the hardwood floor. I immediately swooped in--cue Tiger Mommy Mode--but the damage was done. Girlfriend was too fast for me. She laid on the floor in stunned silence for about 3 seconds and then---holy hell--she screamed like I had just drop kicked her. She had a goose egg on her head for about a week, poor little one. But really, when she woke up the next morning, she was her same happy, bubbly self. It was like the night before had never happened.

Seriously. Why are we so lucky?

She wants me.

"I want you to want me.
I need you to need me.
I'd love you love me...."


--Cheap Trick

When I was anxious throughout my pregnancy and the early days of parenthood, I was so afraid that Hannah would hate me, or that she'd prefer her dad over me, or her grandma, or her babysitter, or anyone else. I had myself convinced that my baby couldn't love me, or wouldn't.

She's definitely a daddy's girl. Her face lights up when she sees Graham. And, after a long day at work, she smiles when she sees me and her legs start kicking like crazy. Still, I've always felt that I was her "second" option to Graham. There have been so many times when no matter what I did, she never calmed down for me. But, when Graham picked her up or entered the room, she'd burst into a huge grin and kick wildly for her daddy.

I wanted her to love me above all others. Isn't that the secret wish of every parent? It's a selfish wish, yes, but I think that at some point, we'll all get a secret thrill out of knowing our child wants to be in our arms over anyone else's, even that of their other parents.

Well. That was then.

Separation anxiety has begun to set in with Hannah. I've noticed it growing over the last few weeks, but especially when she's in the same room with us but not in our laps, like when she's in the jumperoo or the bumbo. At night when I put her down to sleep she fusses a little more than in the past and she reaches up towards me. If she's cool with being in the jumperoo but I dare to leave the room to use the bathroom or answer the phone, she cries and fusses.

Basically, I've noticed that if she's not with or near me, she's distressed. And I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it.

On one hand, I love it. I love knowing that she loves me and wants me. I love knowing that she feels safest in my arms.

On the other hand, I'd also like to be able to pee in silence.

But you know what? I wouldn't change this. My baby wants to be held. Is that so terrible? It isn't.

My baby, my seven month old, wants to be held. I can do that. It's only for a little while, and some day, she won't need me or want me.

Reaching

Yesterday, Hannah reached for me for the first time. Best feeling ever.

Adventuring in Semi-Solids: Butternut Squash

I was really excited to start squash with Hannah because it's one vegetable Graham really doesn't like. I was hoping she'd like it so that I can start incorporating it into more of our dinners. Two against one! Victory is mine!

So far, Hannah really enjoys it! When I introduced squash, she started jumping up and down in her high chair and couldn't wait for me to sit down. Unfortunately, she thought I was bringing her sweet potatoes, because the look on her face was pure disappointment. She warmed up to it soon, though, and when the bowl was empty she started fussing and crying. Mmm...beta carotine. It's what's for dinner!