I used to think blogging was really hard when there was nothing much going on. Just the same old same old, nothing much to report.
Turns out it's even harder, at least for me, when there's lots of stuff to talk about.
This lady turned one! There was cake.
And then she turned 13, 14, 15, and 16 months old. Lordy, I guess it's been a wee bit longer than I thought.
She walks, she runs, she dances. She puts shoes and diapers on her stuffed animals and buckles them into her carseat. I remember saying when she was nine months old that I just could not imagine a kid being any more fun. Guess what? It gets more fun. She kills me.
The one thing she doesn't do is talk. Not a single word, not ever. I'm not really worried because she signs, and signing babies are just the cutest. Especially when you ask them "more what?" hoping they'll elaborate on the ubiquitous demand for MORE MORE MORE and they stop, think for a second and then sign "more... PLEASE."
The second and third things she doesn't do is give up bottles or pacifiers. But I'm ignoring that for now because: 1) teeth. OMFG THE TEETH. They never stop with the being assholes! This child has never shown interest in a single toy designed for teething babies, but she will chew on keys, cigarette butts she finds on the sidewalk, and her personal favorite: styrofoam packing peanuts. So! When you see her with a pacifier in her maw in 75% of the pictures I post on Facebook, just realize that it is better than seeing a picture of her with four cigarette butts poking out of her mouth NOT THAT THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED. Except yes it has. 2) she is already sleeping like crap, which should be downright illegal after months of fantastic nights of 12+ hours of sleep and predictable naps, which lull parents into a false sense of security and causes them to lose all the powers of functioning in the world on very little sleep that they develop during the newborn months. I realize that complaining about her waking up 2-3 times during the night between the hours of 6:30pm and 6am sounds absolutely laughable to people still on the waking-up-every-ninety-minutes schedule. But the other day I was trying to veg on the couch during her (too-short) nap, and I went to the search function on Netflix and typed in "netflix". And was then surprised when no results were displayed. Goddamnit Netflix, FIGURE OUT WHAT I MEAN. I had absolutely no recollection of what show I was trying to find. That's what a few weeks of waking up several times a night and starting the day at 5:15am will do to me nowadays. So I'm not even THINKING about taking away bottles or pacifiers until we're all good and settled in our new house.
Oh, did I mention that we're moving? To Salt Lake City? Um, yes. That is happening.
Joel drove away from our house in Baltimore on December 28th. Sad, surreal, strange. Thank goodness my brother was staying with us at the time, helping us paint and pack, when Joel left or I would have lost it. Instead I lost it when my brother drove away later in the day. And then I survived fifteen days of solo parenting with no car. In the middle of winter.
It wasn't pretty. Hannah learned to fend for herself while I dozed on the couch (STOP WAKING UP AT 5:15AM) or packed boxes. I learned not to care about messes, because OMG. The mess created by solo parenting + not enough sleep + too small house + no car + winter + can't go outside + boxes everywhere + has anyone seen the vacuum + OH, JUST HELP YOURSELF TO A SNACK SURE THING GREAT JOB NO NEED FOR A BOWL.
Hannah and I stayed behind in Baltimore for a few weeks to finish packing and getting the house ready for sale. Movers arrived last Monday, and when they finished loading the truck we all bundled into my mom's car and retired to our country home (aka my mom's house) in New Jersey.
Goodbye, Baltimore. It was good knowing you.