11.18.2011

11.17.2011

notes on a chunk

i wanted to make a note, mostly for myself, about chunk's vocabulary growing. she seems to be learning a word about every week or two and is starting to feel comfortable speaking more in front of her daddy.

mama (that's me!)
dada or just plain da (for daddy)
baba (bottle)
no (a constant)
go (which is usually go go!)
shoooo (shoes)
cha choo (trains)
mowww (every time she sees mickey mouse)
ge (her brother)
bye (as in, i can't believe your punk ass is leaving me)
ow (she uses this one when she hits us)
weeee!!! (when she pushes her little people animals down their zoo slide)

animal sounds -

moooo (she loves cows)
meow (and kitties)
rawr (her first and most used sound - she loves dinosaurs)

body parts she knows -

nose
ears
belly
mouth
feet

she hasn't really picked up much signing, but when she is hungry she will spit out her pacie and point to her mouth - hard to miss that one. 

she loves books, thinks being tickled is hilarious, plays tag with her brother, loves to be rough housed, and points to everything she thinks she should have and breaks out into tears if you won't give her whatever it is she thinks she wants. little chunk is adventurous and is gaining an independent streak that surprises me after all of her attachment needs. she still prefers mac and cheese, but she loves broccoli and yogurt, too. little girl drinks milk like it might not exist tomorrow, but she is also a solid water drinker if given the chance. 

ge man update to come soon. :) 

cheese.

Ge : "Mom! I love you and I love you and I love you!"

Me : "I love you more."

Ge : "Well I love you most and more and a lot."

/heart melt

11.15.2011

One year


My Little Charli,

I have no idea where the last year went. I feel like we were just in the waiting room getting prepped for the surgery that would bring you into our arms, and now we are trying to keep you wrapped up in those same arms as you run across the room to find a new form of destruction. You have been so much fun to have in our lives and have impacted us in such amazing ways. You came into this world with a giant scream heard throughout the halls of Phoenixville Hospital, and in the last year you have only continued to grow into an even greater presence than we ever thought possible.

By your first birthday you were walking, speaking a few words (Mama, Dada, Baba, Ow, No), dancing up a storm, pulling everything off of the shelves and out of the baskets that your could get your hands on, and  destroying your brother’s train tracks at a 2 year old level. You love to hit people with things, and when you do, you will say “ow” and laugh. This all seems a bit on the reverse side because when we say ow you burst out into tears because we might be thinking about disciplining you. You, my little Chunk, are a professional tantrum thrower and if you even think for a minute that we might tell you “no” you break down until we reconsider and give you what you want. We are terrified to make you mad because you will make us pay. Papa says your Daddy was a terror like you so I can only hope that you one day feel our pain so we can all laugh. Right now I am barely able to make it out from fetal position in the corner to type this, let alone laugh.

You have your moments, though, and those often come when you are playing with your brother. You love Gage so much and would do anything to be exactly like him. You play with cars, trains, tools, and batman because that is exactly what he loves. You want his favorite toys and often bully him into giving them to you. He turned to me the other day and said, “Mom, Charli is a bully” and all I could do is agree. The best part of that, though, is that you being a bully doesn’t matter to him. That little boy loves you so much and has had so much fun watching you grow and being able to play with you more. As I type this, the two of you are in his room laughing and screaming as you play crash cars. Actually, scratch that, Gage just came running into the room and screamed, “Charli hit me Mom and that wasn’t nice” followed by you wandering into the room growling right behind him. Remember back in these letters when we called you our little bear cub? We were close, but you’re actually a dinosaur. A very violent dinosaur.

Each morning around 4 am you come into bed to sleep next to Daddy and I and you love to cuddle up right next to Dad. He is your big bad Superman that can do no wrong. You love your nights playing with him and he is almost always the one to bathe you and put you down to bed. Daddy and I joke that he is the closer, but it is totally true. You and Daddy have such a special bond and you trust him with all that you are. Each night when he comes home you bounce up and down happily and scream “DADA!” and the both of you light up when I place you in his arms. You and your brother are the light in your Dad’s life and I know you always will be.

I have had so much fun with you this last year and am always surprised by how close we have been. I am totally your person at this age, which I am sure has a lot to do with the fact that I am always with you, but you like me. If you are reading this at 16 and you don’t, you owe me. You totally owe me. Daddy calls you the “Mom seeking missile” because if I even think about leaving the room you have a total melt down and will seek me out and berate me for leaving your side. We have an understanding with each other and always have so much fun together. Much like your brother did when he was younger, you will only show off the little things you are learning with me until you get completely comfortable. It took you a month to admit to your Dad you knew where your ears are because you get all shy when I try to get you to perform your tricks. It’s hard for me to even type this paragraph because it makes me all teary thinking about our relationship – it’s just so special to me. My Mom is my best friend and I hope that we can have that relationship as you grow older, too.

For the last year you have kept us laughing every single day. From your little sounds, to the way you press a button so you get a song to dance to, you’re just so perfect and so Charli. It took me a little while to write this letter because I don’t know how to sum you up in a letter, because you are so much bigger than words – so much bigger than life itself. I never knew that having a daughter could be this rewarding, but every step here has felt like one to celebrate just out of sheer joy. Our family wouldn’t be the same without you and we can honestly not remember a life without you. I have learned so much about myself in the last year, we all have. You are beautiful, so full of life and personality, and when I look at you I melt every single time. Your dimples and big blue eyes make it hard to be mad at you, and your sweet blonde curls just make it downright impossible. You seek out attention wherever you go and you get because there is something about you. From the moment I held you in my arms I knew you were special and I cannot wait to watch you grow from here.

Happy Birthday to our beautiful little Chunk. Thank you for being in our lives and for keeping us on our toes.
I love you,

Mama



11.09.2011

will blog for sleep


Can I be honest internet? I miss you. To be specific, I miss blogging. I frequent Facebook, obsesses over pinterest, and scan through foodgawker like men watch porn, but I don’t blog anymore. I miss blogging. I miss having an English assignment I had to turn in because I couldn’t excuse myself from the task of creativity. I miss having five minutes to myself where I don’t feel like collapsing on the couch, but that is almost an entirely different issue.

By 8 pm The Husband is rocking our little Chunk into dream land and I am both finishing up dinner and clearing away the days clutter. By 8:30 pm we are settled into food and our nightly television selections and the thought of blogging is all like, blah blah blah that sounds super amounts of stupid. I would really like to blog my way through all of my food findings on the internet, and I keep intending too, but really – so freaking tired. Did you know that 13 month old babies are incredibly difficult? I do. I know these things. Especially a 13 month old baby that is obviously prepping herself to be a professional rock star, the kind of rock star you don’t want at your hotel because you know the room will be trashed when they leave.

The other day I roasted chickpeas – they were absolutely delicious. I did this because someone on the internet did it before me and the circle of food inspiration brought it to my attention. They were delicious. They were so good that The Husband and I were ready to fight over lasties. They were so good that they became our dinner because we ate so many. And because I was too tired to cook. And simply didn’t want to.


Don't let the Plungerhead bottle fool you - that's my olive oil. I use bottles of wine that I enjoy to house my oil of the olives so I can remember what I want to drink with dinner in the future. I can be forgetful. Maybe because of the oil. Oven on to 400 degrees, rinse the chick peas well, toss them in olive oil and spices (I used Wegman's curry salt and red pepper for these ones, but you really could use anything you enjoy), cook for 20 minutes, shake them around, and cook for an additional 15 or so until done. I cooked ours for 40 minutes total the first time and it was 5 minutes too long. The end result is a crunchy, salty exterior and a soft and yummy chick pea goodness like center. 


Even Chunkaleupagus loved them, but she sort of likes everything. These are best straight out of the oven and with a pomegranate lemonade adult beverage, or so I have been told. 

Next up on my to-do list, probably this weekend, are home-made baked taquito like things that I am positive I will have to hide from The Husband if I want some. I told him I found a recipe and he was all like oh I want some, and I was all like suck it. I am a real go getter. Chunk, who normally doesn't like her high chair, has started to enjoy snacking and observing while I go about my business in the kitchen area. We have fun.