ktandjason.com

I have always wondered about the term toddler. When exactly does a baby become a toddler? Is it when they turn a year old? Is it when they begin walking on their own? I honestly had no idea. Luckily, Amelia has helped me solve this mystery.

A baby officially becomes a toddler when he/she:

1. Waits until you are in the bathroom to feed the air conditioning vent all their Cheerios.

2. Uses Fisher-Price tea cups to transfer sand from the sand box into the living room.

3. Streaks like a crazed soccer fan the moment their diaper comes off.

4. Defiantly smiles at you as they pour milk into your purse.

Yup, Amelia is definitely a toddler. So, how is your week going?

I went to the beach for the first time ever. Uncle Mike, TiTi Lyana and Dad
brought me to the Beach on Sunday. It was awesome. Some kids get scared when
they see the ocean. Not me. I tore off my fancy hat and tried to dive straight
in. For some reason Dad doesn’t think I can swim by myself. Dad only let me go
into up to my belly. He is such a wimp. My two hairy cousins Freddy and Randy
were allowed to swim.

I had a great time. I got to play in the wet and and dry sand. The wet sand felt
like oatmeal. The dry sand had so many treasures in it. I found one sea shell
that look delicious but it wasn’t. I won’t be eating from sand again. I saw some
kids playing and I yelled at them. I guess they didn’t hear me. I have to work on
my yelling my sources. I think I will practice at 2 a.m.

Kawabunga.

As I was getting ready to leave for work this morning, I was saying goodbye to Amelia in a very SNL flight attendant sort of way. You remember that skit, right? BUH-bye!

Well, as I am BUH-bying her, Amelia looked right at me and said “Bye-Bye” right back! Now to be perfectly honest, her “Bye-Bye” had approximately 3 more syllables than mine (it was more Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh) but it still counts!

Previous to today, I would have said Amelia’s first word was “Mama” because she has been saying that for a few months now – much to Daddy’s chagrin sildentadal.com! (hee hee hee!) However, I am not really sure that Amelia understood that when she said “Mama” she actually was referring to me. Rather, I think she figured out that the sheer utterance of “Mama” elicited a huge response from me and caused me to bend to her every whim. Smart, yes. But actual speech, no.

This morning, however, Amelia used a word and correctly associated it with its corresponding action. That, my friends, is SPEECH! My baby is sooooooo smart!

OK now, BUH-bye.

Yesterday I celebrated my very first father’s day. It did not turn out the way I had envisioned it.

When I imagined how I would spend my first Father’s Day, I saw myself sleeping late, pigging out, and lounging on my couch all day. However, life has way of showing us that our focus is misaligned.

The Saturday before Father’s Day Amelia got a fever. Attributing it to teething, we treated it with Tylenol and assumed it would run its course after a few hours. But as Amelia woke throughout the night – screaming and thrashing – I began to get more and more concerned. By morning, her fever had risen and she was miserable.

KT tried her best to handle the MANY tear-filled wakeups that night – urging me to go back to sleep so I could be well rested for Father’s Day – but it was too late for that. I had already far too concerned to sleep. I have pulled many all-nighters in my time at various times and for various reasons but none were ever as important as this so I knew I would be able to stay awake for as long as Amelia needed me.

When morning arrived, Amelia was no better so we canceled all our other Father’s Day plans and struck out for the doctor’s office. Unfortunately, my relief at having a doctor look over Amelia was not shared by my daughter, who wanted nothing to do with the doctor montrer. Her fever was up to 103, she hadn’t eaten all day, she was cranky and uncomfortable, and now the doctor was pinning her down as he examined her. KT and I tried our best to soothe Amelia but she was practically inconsolable as the doc probed her ears, throat, and mouth.

It was then, as Amelia lay on the paper-covered examining table staring up at me with tears in her eyes and pleading with me to pick her up and save her from this torture that I realized the real meaning of Father’s Day.

See, I was looking at Father’s Day as a day to reward me for being a dad. But I should not look at it as a day to congratulate myself. Rather, I will use the day as a reminder of the great responsibility I have – and will have forever – now that I am a dad.

So, yes I spent my first Father’s Day with a screaming child in a doctor’s office. But did I have a good Father’s Day?

YES! The best. I felt love, appreciation and togetherness with my family. I couldn’t wish for anything more.

Amelia in her highchair attempting to feed herself. Great picture, great memory.

‘Nuff said.

When Amelia was first born, I was convinced that my daughter was special. Developmentally, she was an ordinary baby. But in my eyes, she was extraordinary. I was mesmerized when she smiled. I was in awe when she grasped my fingers in her pudgy little hand; I practically threw a parade the first time she splashed her feet in the bath tub. And yes, I even applauded her poops use this link.

That is, I did… until Amelia had her first MOTHERLOAD!

It was an average Tuesday afternoon as I sat nursing Amelia. She had just finished eating when I began to hear the all-too-familiar grumblings of her delicate digestive track (That was sarcasm, people! Anyone who has ever been in a room with my daughter knows that she can burp and fart like a champion! Seriously, she once farted so loudly that we heard it while traveling in a car roaring down the highway with all windows open. It brought my brother, James, to tears with laughter!)

Anyway, I allowed her the prerequisite 15 minutes of rumbling in order to finish her business before I headed upstairs to change her. What I found when I opened her diaper could only be described as a mess! Far from solid in consistency, and quite substantial in quantity, this was one for the record books. Gross, yes. But again this was my adorable daughter and her poop was still charming.

After a few moments of praising Amelia on her miraculous ability to poop better than any other infant in the history of the world, I began the task of cleaning her up.

Being the skilled and experienced mother that I am at three months post partum, I swiftly grabbed both her ankles in my left hand and hoisted her buttocks into the air to prevent the mess from creeping up her back and seeping onto her onesie (no sense in turning this simple diaper change into a complete outfit change, right?)

However, in my haste to save her clothing from being soiled, I forgot to wrap up the offending diaper, instead choosing to leave it open on the changing table. I did not recognize the utter stupidity of this move until moments later when I went to wipe my daughter’s bottom and instead placed my right hand squarely in the middle of the dirty diaper. CRAP! (literally and figuratively).

Yet again, I did not balk. After all, I was a suave new mom who changes diapers all the time. I was used to baby poop. So instead of gagging, I simply turned to grab a baby wipe when….DAMN! The next wipe had failed to catch on the dispenser and had fallen back into the big blue baby wipe box.

Now normally this would not annoy me as I easily could pry the box open and grab the next wipe. But in this instance, with my daughter’s rear hoisted up into the air with my left hand, poop smeared all over my right hand, and a very messy diaper lying open-faced on the changing table, I am left at a crossroads.

Do I:

1) Release my daughter’s feet, laying her back down into the mess that she has created and soiling her clothing? Or do I…

2) Attempt to jam my poopy fingers through the razor-thin crack in the wipe box knowing full well that I am not Gumby and will never be able to reach a wipe? Or do I…

3) Swipe my poopy hand across the pile of clean Pampers stacked on the changing table thereby ruining precisely $17.50 worth of diapers? Or do I…

4) Use my daughter’s onesie to clean my hand resulting in said outfit change which I previously had hoped to avoid?

I am pondering this exact dilemma when…like the growl of an approaching thunderstorm I hear the menacing rumble of my daughter’s digestive track roaring back to life! As I turned my head slow-motion style, the desperate cry of “Nooooo” resonating off the nursery walls, my adorable little daughter UNLEASHES HELL.

Shooting out of her rear like a runaway train, there is now poop everywhere … ALL …OVER…. EVERYTHING!

The changing table, her onesie, her legs and feet, the old diaper, the new diapers, the wipe box, the baby powder, her hair brush, my hands, my shirt, my pants, and the rug now have a lovely new coat of adorable baby poop!

After a brief moment of shock, three minutes of utter disgust, and a bath for both her and me, all was right with the world again. And despite that little setback, I still love everything about my daughter. So today, I will go home and continue to clap every time she coos, and tear up every time she sticks her tongue out. But I will NOT cheer when I change her diaper for there is no longer any joy there. That ship has sailed.

Here is Amelia’s first time riding in her car seat. We had just arrived home from the hospital. She is four days old.

I LOVE this picture for two reasons:

1 right here. Because Amelia looks like the Pope in that hat!

and

2. Because every time I see it, I am reminded of how absolutely clueless Jason and I felt when we got her home. I remember unbuckling the car seat and turning to look at Jason and saying, “What now?”

We honestly had NO IDEA what to do with her. Luckily, our entire families showed up to help us pass the time until she woke up. 🙂 Good memories!

In less than a month, we will celebrate our little Monkey’s first birthday (Oh my lord, I CAN NOT believe she is going to be ONE!).

Whenever I think about this, I start getting all sentimental and weepy about how fast she is growing up. So today I made a resolution: rather than crying every time I think about Monkey turning one (sob http://levitrakamagra.com/!), I instead will force myself to remember all the amazing times we have shared with her. So for the next month, I am going to post all my favorite FIRST moments with Amelia…leading up to her (gulp) FIRST BIRTHDAY!

Hello,

I intended for my first post to describe one of my early memories with Amelia but something monumental occurred early on Saturday afternoon.

Amelia, KT and I were playing on living room floor. Amelia was cruising along the couch, attempting to reach a remote control or cellular phone which we strategically placed just out of her reach. Suddenly, she turned around, looked right at me and took two steps right into my arms! Her first steps viagraspills.com! AMAZING!

The moment right before she took her first step, I saw an expression on her face when she seemed to realize that she could move. It looked something like this:

Amelia blogging

Hello everybody,

My mom and dad have been trying to get this blog up and running since
before I was born but as you can see, they have not been very
successful. I can’t say I blame them – I do tend to keep them VERY BUSY viagraindian.com.

Anyway, I figured I would help them out and begin to update it myself.
After all, my schedule is pretty clear and I LOVE getting my hands on
Daddy’s computer!

So where to start? So many things have happened in the last 10 months: I
was born, I rolled over, I learned how to smile, giggle, and throw
things (especially temper tantrums), I learned how to crawl, I pet
doggies, I tasted both grass and mulch (yummy!), and I went to Lowes.

Since coming into the world some of my favorite things include monkeys,
ceiling fans, fruits and reggaeton.

My family and I will be posting updates from time to time with pictures
and news so stay tuned!

Amelia James