Thursday, January 15, 2015

16 months

Little Ingrid girl. Life at 16 months is pretty sweet for this one here.

I SEE YOUR HAND ON THAT REMOTE.
Loving: hugs, remotes (or anything that resembles one), every stinkin' thing her older sister does, dogs, Bamse the Danish bear DVD, music and dancing, coming downstairs in the mornings, throwing/kicking a ball, and lately, exercising her vocal cords (in other words: screaming), which sometimes resembles a cross between a yodel and a tarzan yell.

NO, I DON'T NEED YOU TO "FIX" MY HAIR.
Not so much loving: milk in a sippy cup (she'll drink water out of a sippy all day long, but put milk in there and she literally acts offended).

Says: mama, dada, ni-ni (night night), ba (for bear, baby, and bottle), no (the answer to a lot of questions these days).

Knows: her toes and her nose, opening/closing and retrieving things, how to give high fives.

I keep saying each month that THIS is my new favorite age, and it's fun to experience time in such a present way, you know? I envy her energy, and I swear that she has some sort of internal radar tuned specifically to cabinet and pantry locks left open, because she's on those in a hot second. She's in a pretty good place sleep-wise, which is obviously great for all of us.

We've got some transition coming up—she starts daycare part-time next week. I'm excited for her and think she'll love it, but I'm nervous at the same time and know we'll have to go through a phase of adjustment. Other than being in the church nursery a few times, her time in a group setting with other kids her age has been pretty limited, but she's so social that I really think she'll do great. And I feel so fortunate that we've had grandmothers tapped to keep her full-time until now; that's been such a gift. But still, I feel the tension between work and mothering so much. There are days that I'm so happy going to my job and having "my" time, and yet other days, leaving for work in the morning with a smattering of hugs and kisses and byes, between the house and the car in the driveway, my eyes prick with tears—and not as a result of the cold. I don't know the answer to that. I sure wish I did. But for today and tomorrow and the next day after that, we take it a little at a time and trust that things are the way they ought to be, for now at least.

No comments:

Post a Comment