Eight month Anne-iversary

The stats: I'm just a plain old healthy little girl. I'm too big for my bouncy chair and big enough for a high chair. I'm too big for the baby carrier, but not big enough to sit facing forward. I'm big enough to aggravate my brother, but not big enough to play with him. And I fit perfectly in my mom's arms, but I never lie still.

Best friends: My brother, of course. I light up whenever he walks into the room. Now, for some reason or another, he doesn't seem to share the same enthusiasm for me. I've heard that Mark always says nice things about when I'm not around, but not so much when I show up near his toys. Despite the fact that he made a rule that he can play with any of my toys whenever he chooses, there doesn't seem to be reciprocation. He's constantly worried I'm going to grab his letters, his cars, his markers, his Presidential flash cards, his math game...actually, now that I think about it, a Presidential flash card would be pretty tasty. Mmmmm....presidential flash cards. Yum. I won't eat them. Maybe just gum them up for a little while. Mmmmm....

Enemies:  Can you even imagine what it would be like if bits of hard bone started erupting out of your body? What if you were just sitting there, minding your own business, laughing at a sock, when teeth started growing right out your hands or ears? Wouldn't feel too good, would it? Well, it doesn't feel much better coming out of your mouth. Trust me on this. I've got two on the bottom and a batch more popping out on the top. They hurt! So, sure, I cried. For like a minute or two. But that's a lot for me!

Favorite place: My favorite place is....right...over...there. No, wait. It's ... right ... over ... there. In fact, it's wherever I see somet

hing I can grab. (And I have some laser vision. I can spot a speck of paper at 500 yards.) So, my whole house is now my favorite place. I just slap my hands down on the ground and drag myself all over the room. Dad says it's not an official crawl because I don't lift up belly, but what does he know? He hasn't crawled in, like three centuries. He's really very old.

Things I like: I like to eat people's faces. One of my favorite people's faces to eat is my cousin, Hannah. Whenever I look at her I think: "That girl is adorable. I think I'll just grab her cheeks and munch on her nose." Hannah doesn't seem to understand why this is fun. She's quite terrified by it, actually. But do I let that stop me? No way!

Things I don't like:  As I mentioned before, laying still is generally pointless. I have places to go. And I don't care if I have to dive out of an adult's arms to get there. It doesn't matter to me if I'm having my diaper changed or my parents are dressing me. I don't even care if I don't know where I'm going. I just have to go! Right now!

Major accomplishments: I almost wave a little, which I think is hilarious. I babble, which I think is hilarious. I've worked out an incredibly high pitched scream, which I think is hilarious. I found a little girl who looks just like me in these big glass windows in the bathroom. I think that little girl is hilarious. 

Mark of Fridays: The Four Year Mark

Today our Mark is 4 years old.  And he really is becoming a big boy.

In many ways he’s like a lot of other kids his age:  he likes playing outside, practicing his writing, and going to school.  He loves Children’s Chapel, where the kids sit with a pastor and sing, and snack time.  He takes swimming lessons, but he can’t really swim yet.  He enjoys being first and “writing” in our toilet (and walls and floor) with his pee.  He likes to play at the park and go on a walk around the block each night, so he can give a hug to each of the trees in our local park.  He has a few boys he calls his friends.

At 4, there is so much he already knows.  He’s able to read simple books by himself, with very little guidance from us.  He can add and subtract, and he’s starting to use multiplication and division.  He knows all the states (and their postal codes), and he can find them on a map.  He knows most of the presidents, in order, and can tell you which ones died or were assassinated before the end of their term.  He knows Grover Cleveland held two terms, non-consecutive.  He can tell you the story of Jackie Robinson, his favorite baseball player. He knows all the bones in the body and an amazing number of animal facts.  He’s memorized all the holidays and the birthdays of everyone we know.  

He’s also starting to move like a kid, rather than a toddler.  He’s still clumsy—we rarely make it through dinner without a spilled drink or splattered yogurt, and he still gets distracted while walking and trips over toys or bumps into walls—but he runs with the fluid motion of a child.  He can use a big boy swing (with someone pushing), climb up all playground equipment unassisted, and ride a big boy bike.  He still can’t catch, but he can hit a baseball.

Our Mark at age 4 is a comfortable, confident kid.  He talks to everyone—grocery store cashiers, waitresses, strangers in the mall.  He orders his own food in every restaurant, and he’s like a celebrity in our bank.  When he comes in, people come out from behind counters and desks to hear him count the money and tell them which president is on each bill.  He also approaches kids on the playground, asks them their name and if they want to play.  He tells the girls at school they look pretty and approaches other boys on the street to tell them that dogs have phalanges just like people.  He does totally weird stuff—like deciding to pantomime the letters with his body in the middle of the floor at the McDonald’s playland—without regard for who might be watching or what they might think.

And he asks questions all the time.  What do polar bears eat, mom?  Why didn’t Gerald Ford get a second turn as president?  Why aren’t there any penguins on the North Pole?  Why did the Saint Louis Browns move to Baltimore, and when will they be back?  Why do the letters look different in cursored (cursive) than in regular writing?  Why is there a tiny country (Lesotho) inside this other country (South Africa), and why doesn’t that happen anywhere else in the world?  How many fives are in thirty?  Which is higher, heaven or space?  Why aren’t there any girl presidents?  It’s wonderful, really… he’s curious, always seeking more information.  But honestly, sometimes it’s also exhausting.

When he’s not asking questions, he’s talking.  Sometimes he’s telling us his plan for the day, step by step, followed by “Okay??” really loud at the end of each sentence.  But a lot of the time he’s just reciting math facts or listing things:  the states, the presidents, letters or numbers in an order that seems random to us but isn’t to him.  And when we’re paying attention to Anne or—heaven forbid—talking to each other, Mark just talks louder.  Or gets closer.  Or repeats himself. Or asks us over and over when it will be his turn to talk.

Sometimes we wish for just a few minutes of silence… for him to go to school, go to bed, or go for a sleepover at Nana’s.  Sometimes we wish he still took a nap.

Sometimes we wish that he were just a little bit older, able to look up information on his own (rather than asking us) or go to a friend’s house and talk to someone else for a little while.

Sometimes we wish he’d grow out of the more bothersome parts about being 4 years old and still adjusting to a new sister.  We’d like to fast-forward through the incredible stalling—especially at bedtime—and the refusal to try new foods.  We’d like to hurry though the terrible fits, when he screams at the top of his lungs in our faces or lashes out to kick or hit.  Or worse, when he gets angry at us in a public place and tries to run away.  We’d like to skip through those nights of holding the doorknob to his room closed while he thrashes and screams inside, those times when we know the rest of the day will full of punishments and talking-tos.  We know we have to bend his will, to teach him to use words and not fists – but doing so isn’t very fun.

And sometimes we’d like to fast-forward through all the competition with his sister, the seemingly endless rounds of questions:  Why is it always her turn?  What happens if she tries to take all my toys away?  What if she ruins my toy?  Why is she screaming?  Why are you holding her?  What will you do if she hits me?  Bites me?  Hurts me?   We try to reassure him, to tell him he’s a good big brother.  We know it’s a huge change for him and that sharing the attention is hard.  But sometimes we wish were through it all—that she were older, more fun, and better able to fend for herself.  We wish he were old enough to understand that she will never take his place, that we have enough love for them both.

Yet every time we express these wishes out loud – our desire to get through early childhood into times that are quieter and easier – we remember that not long from now he’ll be a sulky teenager, plugged into an iPod and unwilling to talk to us.  He’ll have places to go and friends to hang out with, and he’ll be too cool (or, more likely, too awkward and anguished) for mom and dad.

And we remember to cherish our growing boy at 4 years old, who can still – barely – curl up on our laps to hear a story and who cries when we don’t give him enough bedtime kisses.  Our darling boy who can fall asleep at Nana’s house only when he’s clutching our picture, who thinks the ocean is magical, and who starts getting excited about Halloween in July.  Our sweet, special boy who challenges us to be better parents and better people every day, since we are his Good Examples.  Our little boy who tells us we are his #1 and #2 Most Important People, who loves us unconditionally.  And who we love more than words can say.

Six Month Anne-iversary: Sitting Pretty

The stats:  I weigh 17.5 lbs, according to the scale at my Great Grandma's house.  No official weight yet, since back-to-school physicals have made my 6 month checkup a few weeks behind schedule.  But, things are looking up.  My grandma's have started saying I look "less chunky."  I'm not going to hold my breath.

Best friends: Don't get me wrong, I love my dad, mom, and brother.  I light up whenever I see them.  But much to my dad's chagrin, I am also fascinated with Jack, the dog.  I want to watch his every movement, even if that means arching my back like a crazy girl or wiggling out of my dad's arms to get a better look at him.  I also want to grab his fur, maybe even shove some of it into my mouth.  He looks so very interesting.  And tasty.

Enemies:  Hmmm.... none.  Well, maybe teething.

Favorite place:  Hmmm... everywhere?  I'm really pretty happy most of the time.

Things I like: Sitting up!  It's awesome!  Now I can see everything so much better, and there are so many more toys to play with.  I can even sit up in the bathtub now, which means I can splash with wild abandon.  It's awesome. 

Things I don't like: I'm not too crazy about eating in my high chair.  It's not like I cry or protest or anything--no need to be such a bother--I just keep my mounth wide open and let all the food drool out.  For a kid who shoves everything into her mouth, mom and dad marvel that I don't much care to put FOOD in there.

Major accomplishments:  I sit up, eat lots of different types of mashed-up food, made a 15 hour road trip to South Carolina without really crying in the car at all.  I have two teeth (both on bottom).  I have also effectively grown out of my baby car seat (I did a seat switch with my brother!), my Bumbo seat (chunky legs get stuck!), Baby Bjorn (we upgraded to a Hefty Baby model that shifts weight to mom's hips), and the baby tub.  Mom and dad can't wait to put some of that stuff on eBay!

Five-month Anne-iversary

The stats:  At my four month check, I weighed 16 lbs. That puts me in the 90th percentile, baby! Basically, I could roll over on other kids my age and squash them. It also means that I already get to wear all my super cute 9-month outfits!

Best friends: My own hands and feet. I'm learning how to control my hands, which means I can grab stuff at will and shove it into my mouth. This includes but is not limited to: mom's hair, dad's nose, the dog's fur, my own bib (still needed as an excessive drool-catcher), toys, the hem of my dress, my hat, the remote control. I also like to munch on my feet. Mom once saw me shove my whole foot in my mouth up to the heel (for comic relief, really, at a time when dad was holding me and using his Super Serious Voice to discipline my brother).  Sadly, dad is not a huge fan of Foot Eating. I mean, really, they're my feet. Why can't I eat them if I want to?  I'm not walking, so it really shouldn't be a big deal.  Besides, they're delicious.

Enemies: None. Seriously. I don't even mind when the dog licks me in the mouth. I just try to eat him.

Favorite place: Anywhere I can see my brother. 

Things I like: Drooling.  Screeching really loud.  My thumb.  Putting myself to sleep (no rocking or lullabies please--I can handle it by myself, thankyouverymuch).   I also really, really like being tickled.  Tickling makes me bust out my big, husky chuckle of a laugh.  It's most hilarious when you take off my shirt and nibble on my bare belly or armpits.  (A word of caution, though: you might want to avoid inhaling near the armpits. I'm told they're smelly.) 

Things I don't like: Baby equipment made for "standard" sized babies.  Last weekend, mom and dad had to put away my bouncy seat because I sank all the way to the floor in it, which rendered it sort-of useless.  They say my Baby Bjorn's days are numbered, too.  Backaches.  Even my car seat is getting awfully difficult for them to lift.  Didn't someone in the Baby Stuff Industry anticipate this problem??

Major accomplishments:  I can barrel roll (front to back to front again), and I can eat off a spoon (although admittedly most of the food dribbles back out again).  During an 8 hour road trip to Pittsburgh, I won the hands-down prize for Quietest Kid in the Car.

Three Month Anne-iversary

The numbers:  Haven't been on a scale for a while, but I'm still big and healthy.  I'm wearing my 6 month clothes already.

Best friends: Everyone!  I really like when someone--anyone--makes eye contact with me.  Just having the total attention of a person makes me smile my big, happy smile.  Sometimes I kick my feet and coo at them, too, just to show my appreciation for their few seconds of undivided attention.  I do this many, many times each day.  Even if you look away for a second then bring your eyes back to me, I'll smile and coo again.  I get surprised and happy to see you every time!

Enemies: Drool.  Suddenly I'm a fountain of drool.  Put me in my boucy seat for 10 minutes and I can soak my shirt down to my belly button.  Then I get cold and chappy and start to cry for a new shirt.  Mom and Dad have tried putting a bib on me to catch it, but it really gets in the way when I try to shove my thumb in my mouth.  The bib flaps up into my face and I can't find my thumb and I get so upset.  Don't my mom and dad know that I'm trying to cork up all that drool?

Favorite place: I'm really happy in lots of places now.  I like to be carried when I'm tired, but I also like my bouncy seat, crib, playmat on the floor.  Dad has even started carrying me around in a Baby Bjorn, like a kangaroo baby.  I love it, because I can see so much!  I am always similing my big Somebody-Sees-Me smile.

Things I like: Eating (of course), looking around, munching on my own hands, riding in the car, being outside in my stroller.  I also love this Sleep Sack mom and dad put me in at night.  To adults it might look like a baby straight jacket, but to me it's like sleeping in a big, warm hug.  Fantastic. Even baths are starting to grow on me, now that my brother helps soap me up and rinse me off.  He is such a great helper!

Things I don't like: Winter hats (They always fall down over my eyes!), cradle cap (I even had it in my eyebrows!), and fingernails (They grow so fast--Why are they always scratching me?) And honestly, sometimes I get irritated by noise.  My brother REALLY likes to talk...when I get tired I've been known to cover my ears.

Major accomplishments: Sleeping (9 p.m.-5 a.m. each night and sometimes longer on the weekends).  I can sort-of sit up (I hold my head up but need grown-up hands to steady me).  Also, I'm a Major Gamer.  Mom and Dad have started taking me everywhere my brother goes, and I handle it like a champ.  Noisy children's museum?  No problem.  Park in 50 degree weather?  I'll just sleep in my stroller.  Monkey Joe's?  Happy and cooing.  Especially if anybody looks at me.

Speaking of wedded bliss...

Well, it's a few days late, but we here at the Lynne and Matt blog wanted to wish Diane and Mark Hanley a very happy 30th wedding anniversary!

30 years! Wow! That's a lot for Lynne and Matt to live up to, but they promise to give it their best shot.

To great parents, better role models and even better friends, all the best wishes! We love you both very much.

Love, Matt and Lynne

p.s. Nice tux, Dad!