BamamaPancakes

October 8, 2015 Dear Adalyn, You turn three years old today. Three years old. Your fingers work so hard to form the 3 that you proudly hold up to anyone who asks.  I could say the same exact thing every year to you. I will want to say the same exact thing to you every year. What you looked like when you were born, how you felt balled up into the baby smell that is a newborn, those early days when we started our world as Mom and Dad. How everyone knew you as Sparkle; how you had a one-eyed-pirate-smile from those beginning weeks, with crossed legs and a fuzzy head. Now, you are three.   You are busy, sometimes with intent focus; most times with the attention span of a gnat. You are a singer, and what you lack in talent, you sure make up with enthusiasm and sheer volume.   You are independent, from potty-time to wardrobe changes to opening a juice box ‘all myself!’ You are playful, chasing the bad guys with Shang and Mulan, doctoring the splinter i...

Things you say you’re going to do for all your kids: write everything down, chronicling their world and yours as a parent. Things you do with one kid: try to write most things down, chronicling her world and yours as a parent. Things you do with two kids: sometimes remember to write down garbledy-gooped words in a way that sort of makes sense if your poor reader has Jedi mind powers. So in the spirit of garbledy-goop, let’s do the Highlight Reel re: the small humans in our house: Addie started pre school! For those who follow the over-posting that occurs on facebook, yes, Adalyn cried her first few days. Loudly. Sadly. In the way that kind of twists your gut as you keep walking down the hall way away from your bawling child as other parents give you looks that range from sympathy and support to “Dude, I’m so glad that’s not me this year.”    However, we seem to have turned a corner! Her imaginary friend, Shang, went with her one Thursday and she’s been perfectly ...

Everyone asks how the adjustment to 2 kiddos is going. Ah, Life with Two. Life with two is a mix. It is animated, and it is tired. It is feeling utterly content one moment, and totally fried the next. It is frequently running behind, and struggling with sentences, and typically being covered in spit up and a little extra deodorant. It is wonderful. One minute, you can barely hold your eyes open because it was an every-hour-and-a-half-kind-of-night, and the next, you’re wide awake because your kid just smiled at you. We forgot the bleariness an infant’s sleep (or lack there of) brings, but we also forgot how fast babies learn and grow at this stage, and watching yours yawn and sneeze and discover her hands and voice is no less amazing the second time around.   It is all new, yet totally familiar. It’s like going for a hike we haven’t been on in years, but suddenly we see these landmarks we recognize, and every memory associated with it jumps forward, brushing the rust o...