EB Update

First of all, when did my kid get so big?!

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She has her four front top teeth, two bottom front teeth, and two bottom molars.

Her hair is down past her shoulders when wet and curls up when dry.

She’s a speed demon on her knees now and figures out how to escape through her gate almost everyday. She is pulling herself up and cruises along everything – the couch, the gate, the ottoman. She also likes walking with the help of her toys.

Yesterday she started trying to stand for the first time without support. She kinda wobbled back and forth for about 30 seconds before she fell onto her butt. She did this a few times.

She loves music and bounces up and down on her knees to dance to it. She usually claps along too. She recently learned to do a high five.

She loves to try and climb people. She loves bathtime and makes a beeline to the tub when she escapes her playpen.

Her current favorite movie is The Lorax, and she still loves Yo Gabba Gabba.

My girl is getting so big – 22lbs. She babbles and loves to smile. She finally said “mama”! (She says it “muhmuh”) And regardless of what people say, I’m excited for her to start walking.

My child, the glutton

There are seven deadly sins.

Lust.
Gluttony.
Wrath.
Greed.
Envy.
Sloth.
Pride (considered the worst of the all for some reason).

I can and do admit to committing all of them in some sense, big or small, at one point in my life. Now, maybe I haven’t committed them to the biblical extent, but I’m human and I own up to being envious and slothlike on occasion as well as the others.

My child, though, is constantly guilty of committing the sin of gluttony. She’s is a glutton. This kid is sweet and sociable and easy going until you introduce food into the picture. And then she turns into this:

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And at the babysitters, she’s an angel. They don’t believe that she gets fussy and mean sometimes. But they’ve seen the demon come out – at snack time. They now feed Ellabelle first, before anyone else. And they have snack time as soon as she gets there. And today, she followed a little boy around because he had a donut. He’d go to the corner to hide and eat it, and she’d follow him. So he’d go to a different corner, and she was right behind him. This poor kid just wanted to enjoy his donut in peace, but not with the glutton around.

At restaurants, she knows food is coming so she screams until we appease her with puffs. Josh and I can’t eat at home unless she’s got food of her own. She will sit and scream until we give her food. And if you make the mistake of sharing something yummy with her (ice cream or cereal that isn’t Cheerios for example) you better be prepared to shovel it in her mouth as soon as she’s done eating that bite you just gave her. Now don’t think we haven’t tried to not give her food. We’ve tried so hard to break her of this habit. We’ve ignored her. We’ve tried distracting her. We’ve even removed her from the direct vicinity of the food. We’ve tried it all. But you’ve never seen this child cry. She does NOT stop. She will cry and scream until she can’t breathe and is red in the face, then, she’ll pause, take a few deep breaths, and start again. It’d actually be impressive if it wasn’t so awful. It’s hard as a parent to let her do that. Plus, it’s not like she eats nonstop. She only eats when we eat. So it’s not like she’s a glutton to the point of obesity. In fact, at her last doctors appointment, we were told to give her extra calories because she’s not the right weight for her length. But still. It’d be nice to eat and not have her climbing me trying to see whats in my bowl or on my plate.

Glutton.
Thank god she’s cute.

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Not your typical 9/11 post

So I wasn’t planning on writing a post about today being September 11th. Everyone has something to say about to it, and everyone has their own story. Everyone remembers where they were when they heard and what happened the days after and how it affected and changed their life. I have one of my own of course. I could tell you about how I was a just-turned 14 year old sitting in freshman Spanish. But to me that’s not as important as what came out of the day, things that changed, perspectives that stretched, at least mine anyways.

I have had a love/hate relationship with a lot of things that goes on in this country for awhile. I won’t get into those right now because that’s a whole rant on its own. Needless to say, I haven’t been very patriotic in the past few years. After 9/11, I, like almost everyone else in the country, was very outspoken about bring proud to be an American. Once I went college and gained some more insight into the country and the happenings, I became very jaded about the USA. It wasn’t just politics that upset me. It was the people of this country – those people who are proud of their ignorance and intolerance, who refuse to see both sides of an issues, who want to push their beliefs on others and judge people who disagree with them, who put their own needs above the greater good. Like I said, I became very jaded. And therefore the patriotism that surrounds very “American” days such as 9/11 and Independence day became a source of annoyance. For a long time I couldn’t see why people would be proud to be from a place where we can talk the talk, but can’t walk the walk. I had given up on my hope on America.

Until I had Ellabelle.

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She changed a lot of things for me and not just the fact that I will never look good in a bikini ever again. She reopened my eyes to good things in the world that I had forgotten about. While I was pregnant, I remember having these moments of sheer panic because of this awful, horrible world I was bringing my child into. I still worry, and I’m sure it’ll get worse as she gets older and I have to let her go out into the world without me. Now, thought, I see so much more good. I never realized how many happy and wonderful and amazing things there are. Ellabelle sees everything through trusting and wondering eyes. Everything is new and exciting. Everything has the possibility to be good. There is no such as thing as “bad” (at least not yet for her), and she’s teaching me to see the good in everything again. It’s amazing to get to be a part of that perspective.

Last year’s 9/11 slipped by in a blur of sleepless nights and every 2 hour bottle feedings that accompany a newborn, but this year’s I noticed it. As I try to see the good, it dawned on me at the gas station today while running late to drop her off at the babysitters – I have a daughter. Obviously, I’ve known she was a girl since the sonogram from last March, but today that was a huge deal for me. Here I was running around the car to the pump, egging it on to hurry up, in my shorts and flip flops with my little girl in my car.

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I have a girl. I am a girl. I have been educated and I work and I have an equal partnership in my home. Ellabelle will be educated and she will work and she can run around in shorts and flip flops when she’s older. We are females in a country where we don’t have to fear for our lives simply because of our gender. This is a luxury many, way too many, women do not have. Yes, I have issues with this country and the people and the politics, but I am proud and happy that I was born here and that my daughter was born here. This country has many problems, but we are at least safe and free (for the most part). People can be ignorant and intolerant, but, here, they are allowed to be, and I am allowed to disagree with them without persecution. I can come on the internet and say that I have issues with the way this country is run and not worry about my door being broken down and my computer confiscated.

9/11 was an attack on our people, on our country, but, mostly, on our way of life. We live in a very unique environment here and many people in other places do not like it. I am so thankful for the opportunities afforded to me simple because of where I live. 9/11/2001 opened our eyes to the wonderfulness of being American. It’s the good from the bad. While we all may still have an ache for those lost, we need to remember to see the good in the world. 2 years I go I wrote this as my Facebook status and I think it sums up how I feel about this day pretty perfectly:

“September 11th is a day that changed America. However, as we look back each year on the anniversary we should not live in fear of life changing on that day. Babies will be born. People will die. Birthdays and weddings will still happen. It would be a dishonor to those lives lost to make the date forever a empty day. We must celebrate life on September 11th. For those 2,819 people, we must continue to live.”

Find happiness. Find joy. Be thankful. Be brave. Explore. Learn. Grow. And, always, remember.  1013849_10100299761038780_794097186_n

All you need is love <3

This weekend was all about love. No it wasn’t the kind of love you’ll find in a greeting card or on the calendar. It wasn’t a birthday or an anniversary. It was just simply a weekend filled with things we love.

Like this guy:

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This proclaimed nerd spent his weekend surrounded by the things and people loves: comic books and comic book artist.

It was Cincy Comicon’s first ever weekend and Josh volunteered all three days. He met a lot if his favorite artists (he even got a high five initiated from one if them), bought some comics,

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found his next tattoo,
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EB and I only went on Saturday, but it was a good time. And I got to meet someone I love – R2D2!!!

20130909-235113.jpg Yeah, I went totally fan girl on the little robot.

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On Saturday morning, before the ComiCon, Josh and I (EB was with Oma and Opa) took Maisy for a nice long walk followed by a car ride. Puppygirl was in heaven. She rarely gets leisure walks anymore let alone the undivided attention of mommy AND the fat man. So even Maisy got to do something she loves – be with me.

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Ellabelle and I spent Sunday with my mom and dad at their house while Josh was at the con. She loves being in the kitchen and isn’t currently allowed in ours so she was so happy to hang out in Oma’s while she cooked.

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Something else I love that I convinced Josh to do was to go swimming. I’m a waterbug, and, thankfully, I passed the love into Ellabelle. We took a dusk swim and got the pool all to ourselves on Sunday night. Ellabelle was so happy and had so much fun. She slept good that night!

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So, while I’m sure I could write lines if poetry dedicated to my child and beloved pup, you will not find any sonnets written for the things we enjoyed this weekend. (Especially since I HATE sonnets). We had an amazing weekend. I got spend time with my baby girl as well as my puppygirl. Josh got some nerd time in without having to sacrifice time with me and EB and without boring us half to death. And EB got to hang out with Oma and Opa and play with the “big bathtub”. It was a nice little reminder of what matters most in life: the things (and people) you love.

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Feeding the good wolf

There’s an old Cherokee legend I learned while taking my Native American literature class that I still love to this day:

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.

“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

I love the idea of being in control of our own destiny, of our own fate, of our own happiness. There is an never ending fight raging inside each and everyone of us between the evil and good, happiness and anger. Some people let it show. Some people hide it better than others.

Tonight was one of those nights I fed the bad wolf. Today’s basically a Tuesday and we all know about my love affair with Tuesday and there’s been a lot of not so good things going on starting from when Josh woke me up at 7am with some not so good news. A lot of other not so good things happened throughout the day all the way up to around 8pm. I was angry and grouchy and in a sour mood. I wanted to rage and cry and scream, and I just kept feeding that bad wolf. I kept fueling the fire underneath him as I filled his belly with hot pieces of fury.

And then I stopped. I realized that it wasn’t doing anyone any good to feed that mean old wolf. I took a few deep breaths, ate a snickers (which really did help), and walled around for a few minutes. I don’t know if it was the chocolate or the endorphins, but something worked and that good wolf started fighting back. Josh sent me some pictures to help me feel better. I realized that I had to just be happy and let what was going to be be. I was in charge. I got to decide. I had to let the good wolf win. I had to feed him. And who wouldn’t want a tasty bite of this sweetness.

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Twenty Six

26. It hardly seems like its even possible that its been a year since I tried to write a birthday blog. Yet here it is again. 365 days have come and gone. With it has come trials and struggles and happiness and laughter. Last year at this time I was the mom of a newborn. I had a tiny baby who still wasn’t sleeping through the night. Now, I have a rambunctious toddler who is destroying everything in her path and sleeps more than I do.

This year was an insane roller coaster for me. I have been on top of the world. I finally quit a job that was literally making me sick with worry and stress. I became a full time mommy and I was so blessed to be able to do so. I got to spend the first 8 months of Ellabelle’s life with her, day in and day out. I can already tell you the future Amy is jealous of past Amy because the next kid won’t have that luxury. I found a new job that I actually really enjoy doing. Only downside is the hours absolutely suck. I hit my absolutely rock bottom and lived to come out on the other side. I realized that I really do have people around me who do honestly care about me. I also realized just how much Josh loves me. I realized that I am more than I have myself credit for, and I’m much stronger than I ever thought.

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I had the best holidays this year – from Halloween to Christmas to Easter. I’ve always loved holidays – decorations and traditions that Josh hates or doesn’t understand. He complains for almost every one (except Halloween) about having to drag out my boxes and put them back away. I don’t care though. I love it. And this year, I got to share them. I got to start new traditions or pass on old ones. Granted the person I was sharing them with had little interest or idea what was going but I didn’t care. We wore matching outfits for Halloween, opened her stocking from St. Nick, baked cookies with Grandma, opened presents on Christmas morning (while someone slept), had an Easter egg hunt, waved soggy flags at the 4th of July Northside Parade, ate cake on her birthday. We did it all. I got to be a kid again because I got to experience every holiday in a new way with Ellabelle. I’m even more excited about this year cause she’ll be able to move around and participate more.

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25 was a year full of tragic sadness. One of Josh’s friends lost his wife after 12 days of marriage. She died suddenly and left behind so many broken hearted people. Also, my mom’s cousin died after a long fight against cancer. She wasn’t even 60. She left behind a daughter and a grandbaby the same age as me and Ellabelle. These two people who I barely knew touched my life and changed it. I realized how lucky I am to have my mom and to have Josh. Bekah’s death hit so very close because only months before Josh was faced with the harsh reality of possibly losing Ellabelle and me. I am touched so deeply by the death of strangers in general, but these two hit very close to home. Ellabelle has been to two funerals before the age of one, and that’s a harsh reality for this momma to deal with. Death and sorrow was very much a part of my 25th year.

25 brought me a new job. In march, I started work as a clerk. I work weird hours and never see my husband, but I get to be at home during the day with my baby. So I guess you gotta take the good with the bad.

25 was full of sleepless nights and long restless days, smiles and giggles and lots of tears, new beginnings and sad goodbyes, and now here I am, the “late” side of my twenties. And I couldn’t be happier. I tweeted back in July: “Being an old soul makes for awkward early twenties and the ability to finally start to feel comfortable in your late twenties.” And its true. I’m finally able to embrace my inner 84 year old Yiddish grandmother. I really am that old. I asked for (and got) an iron for my birthday.

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I gladly look forward to year 26. It’s exciting with more discoveries and achievements for Ellabelle and more soul searching for me. I’m trying to define who I am and discover what I was put on this earth to do. I’m no longer able to just sit and twiddle my thumbs. I’m closer to “middle age” than ever and I don’t want to be that person who turns 40 and is lost. I need some sort of definition for my existence and I will continue to look for it and work for it. For now, I know part of my job is to be the best mommy I can possibly be and that’s what I intend to do.

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