House of Estrogen

Letter to Elise, 8 Years

Dear Elise,

You turned 8 this week, and wow... what a wild ride your life has been since your 7.5 year letter. Less than a week after I wrote that letter, you were diagnosed with ITP (Idiopathic Thrombocytopenic Purpura) and have been hospitalized three times over the last six months because of it. You have been so brave and understanding in dealing with this disease wreaking havoc on your life. You make me proud. When I had to tell you last week that you couldn't jump in a bounce house because I thought your platelets were low, you pouted for only a second or two and then ran off to find another fun activity. You didn't let it get you down. When we had to reschedule your birthday party because you were in the hospital, you just jumped right into planning a new celebration. You've gotten accustomed to the finger pricks and make guesses about your platelet counts when you go in for your weekly checks. We're still learning about this disease and how to manage it, but you have really taken it in stride. You can rattle off all sorts of facts about parts of blood to anyone who will listen, and when we've had to go to the hospital or hematology clinic, you make it your responsibility to pack up a bag of books and activities, knowing you'll need them. We're hoping the course of this disease is short-lived, but only time will tell.

You are working hard in school and love to read. School is posing some challenges for you this year as the workload has ramped up in third grade, but we're working on some strategies to help you out with that. You always aim to please and want to do well in school, so hopefully we can make some changes to ensure this is a great year for you. 

I think you have enjoyed having Nina start kindergarten this year. It is fun having her on the bus, at your school, and with you at track-out camps. She plays the role of "pesky little sister" very well, driving you absolutely crazy at times, but at the end of the day, you two have a wonderful bond. When you're not at each others throats, you are playing marvelously together. It is fun to watch the two of you playing with your American Girl dolls, singing Hannah Montana songs, being silly in the pool, and doing crafts together. I hope you have a lifelong sister bond that stays strong.

Outside of school, you are taking tumbling which you seem to really enjoy. The coach is great, and you are slowly but steadily improving with your handstands, round-offs, cartwheels, and back bends. You are also still very active in your Brownie troop, having fun at overnight troop camp, a sleepover at the baseball park, and all the usual meetings and activities. Your troop this year has the exact same roster of girls from last year, and it is a great group of girls. You have a neat close circle of friends in the troop.

This has definitely been a rough few months for you physically, but mentally, you've stayed strong through all of it. You are a sweet, loving, conscientious child, and I love you very much. Happy 8th birthday!

Love,

Mamma

Letter to Nina, 5.5 years

Dear Nina,

In the span of just a couple short months, you have changed and grown up at a pace that I haven't seen since you were a newborn. Besides starting kindergarten, you have learned to swim, learned to dive, learned to tie your shoes, and you carry yourself with a new found confidence.

Your face lights up when you talk about kindergarten. Every day, when you come home from school, and I ask you how your day was, you exclaim, "Great!" I can tell you really mean it too. You are soaking it all up and loving it. Every new experience lights another fire in you - riding the bus, eating in the cafeteria, buying your lunch, going to music, art, PE, and the library, playing on the playground, sitting criss-cross-applesauce, and walking down the hall "hip and lip". I feel like I'm getting to experience the wonder of kindergarten all over again through you.

 

Of course, you have a new crush already. You came home the first week and told us with a twinkle in your eye, "C looks like A." We knew then that C was the new man in your life. Today, you bragged to Elise that C blew you a kiss in the cafeteria!

Robert Fulghum wrote the book, "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten", and I'm beginning to think it is true. You are learning so much so fast that it just blows my mind. (As a somewhat interesting but mostly unrelated side note, the marriage vows your father and I took at our wedding were also written by Robert Fulghum).

Just this week, you learned to tie your shoelaces, and you have completely converted from being a flip flop girl to a sneaker girl in your excitement about tying your own laces. You're just beaming every time you do it.

Learning to swim has been your big accomplishment for the summer. Last summer, we had to twist your arm to get you to jump off the side. Now, you're diving in and swimming down to touch the bottom. I feel like you're a completely different child at the pool now that you know how to swim. I think you are proud of your new skills, and it shows through in your self-confidence.

 

As Addison gets older, she becomes more and more your little buddy. You really thrive in the role of big sister. Sometimes enthusiasm gets the best of you, and you love on her a little too hard. Mostly, though, you are very sweet, loving, and protective of her.

 

 

You continue to make me smile and laugh daily. This evening, we were talking about snakes... about someone in the pediatrician's office who had been bitten by a snake, about a snake your dad had seen on a bike ride, about how snakes shed their skin, and so on. I suppose you were wanting to join the conversation with your own snake knowledge, so you jumped in with, "Dad, snakes are not at all like koala bears." as if this fact had somehow escaped him. I love it!

 

I can't wait to see how the rest of kindergarten goes for you. You have more new experiences lined up for the next couple of months - your first track-out camp and your first real soccer team. I hope it all continues to be as fun and exciting as the last couple months have been. I just know this is going to be a great year for you!

I love you. Thanks for reminding me how wonderful life can be! Watching life through your eyes adds a whole new dimension to mine!

Love,

Mamma

Letter to Addison, 18 Months

Dear Addison,

You are a full-fledged walking, talking, tantruming, inquisitive, fun, sweet, aggravating, wonderful little toddler now. You definitely keep us on our toes. If we set you down with an open bathroom door in sight, you race to it as fast as you can, stop at the doorway to see if we are watching, and then dash inside to start your mayhem. If a gate at the bottom of the stairs is left open, you are up the stairs in a flash. You clearly know what is off limits and like to test us. You'll pick up a small choking hazard sized toy off the floor, look right at us as if to say, "Check it out! I'm going to put this in my mouth. You gonna try to stop me? Cuz I'm doing it right now. Here I go. You can't get here fast enough!", and then pop it in your mouth, with great anticipation to see what we'll do.

You are communicating more and more which is just a delight to witness. You are most efficient when signing, and regularly use signs for "food", "more", "all done", "want a diaper change", and "want to go to bed", along with the sweet kisses blown at anyone and everyone. Your verbal skills are coming along slowly. You have mastered the names of most of the family - Dada, Mama, and Nana, but Elise's name was elusive until yesterday. You finally said "sis" which absolutely thrilled your oldest sister! We had told Elise that perhaps your verbal skills would improve once you got tubes in your ears since you would be able to hear better. She had high hopes that you would come right out of surgery saying, "Sissy" or "Leecy". We had to temper her expectations, but little did we know that just one day after surgery you would say her name. I have no idea if that is coincidence or whether you are actually hearing the 'S' sound for the first time. Regardless, Elise ate it up! 

Most of your other words are a bit multi-purpose. "Meh" seems to mean "milk" or "more". "Bah" is ball or balloon. "Bop" is "WOMAN! WOULD YOU GET ME THAT BOP THAT I DESPERATELY WANT RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND???? NO! NOT THAT ONE! NO! NOT THAT ONE! WHY AREN'T YOU GETTING ME THE BOP THAT I'M SO CLEARLY ASKING FOR???? HELLO!!!  I NEED THAT BOP RIGHT NOW!!"   Occassionally "bop" is something easy like "blanket" or "bottle", but often I fail miserably when it refers to "the tiny pink pig up on that high shelf hidden behind the stuffed elephant" or "the green block, not the red one, not the yellow one, not the orange one, in that ginormous pile of blocks."  I'll be glad when not quite so many things are so affectionately known as "bop".

Your dad has decided you are old enough for chores, so he has you helping empty the dishwasher on a regular basis. That is a hoot!  You have learned exactly where the kids' cups and plates go and where the tupperware cabinet is located. He hands you things to put away and you set off about your task. It cracks me up. You do a good job though, so I guess he is on to something. Maybe he can teach you to cut the grass next, and we can quit paying the kid next door to do it.

We've had several rough months of ear infections involving lots of screaming. That and, uh… more screaming. Did I mention the screaming? Just when I thought I might have to ship you off to live with a grandmother for a while, your doctor finally referred you for tubes, so we're hoping for smoother sailing from here on out.

You are still a Daddy's girl and take great delight at sitting in your carseat pointing at him in the seat in front of you, squealing, "Dada!! Dada!! Dada!! and laughing uproariously if he responds or turns around. When I try to get you to say "Mama" instead, you look at me with a bit of disgust like, "Where's the fun in that?", then humor me with a simple "Mama" and then go back to shouting "Dada" and laughing hysterically. Ahhh… feeling the love!

You can throw a tantrum with the best of them and have mastered the art of making your body completely limp, heavy, and almost impossible to pick up. Where do toddlers learn that?  You are tipping the scales at just over 30 pounds now, so when you don't want to be picked up or protest being buckled in the carseat, you are remarkably successful.

 

Most of all, your sweet, smiling face, and excitement about life are just infectious!  The hugs, kisses, giggles, and light in your eye far outweigh toddler tantrums and ear-infection-induced screaming. You make my heart smile.

You are a sweet girl, and I love you dearly!

Love,

Mamma

Letter to Elise, 7.5 years

Dear Elise,

Technically, this is a 7.5 years, 1.5 weeks letter, but hopefully you won't hold that against me. Things seem to be a little rocky in your world lately. I'm not sure if it is the age, pressures at school, the approaching end of the school year, or just one of those phases. Every day we seem to ride your roller coaster up the mature, sweet, helpful hills and down into the sassy, bossy, emotional, drama filled plunges. This morning's meltdown was over a shirt that had gone through the washer and dryer with a sticker on it, and the evening ended with a saucy attitude that got you in trouble. Maybe you're just finding your way in the world. You're not a little kid any more, yet still so young. You're gaining more responsibilities but not much more independence. We'll get through it though. These ups and downs are all part of life.

School is going well. You're really loving reading now and learning to take advantage of quiet moments in the car and in the morning before breakfast to read your favorites, the Rainbow Fairy series, the American Girl series, and others you bring home from the library.

You just finished up a month of swim lessons and are still taking gymnastics. You have decided you would like to try cheerleading though, so we plan to switch to that soon. I think cheerleading may be a good fit for your personality, so I'm anxious to see how you like it. I have a feeling you will.

You are still very active in Brownies, and if you participate in too many more events, I'm not sure how I will attach the patches. Your vest is nearly full. You're learning a lot and having fun though, so I'll just have to get creative. You sold 332 boxes of cookies this year, surpassing your personal goal of 300, so you were proud of that accomplishment. I managed to survive as Cookie Mom for your troop this year which was practically a full time job. Maybe one day, you'll look back and remember with a little pride that your mom was the Cookie Mom one year. I remember my mom tackling the Cookie Mom role and our dining room filled with cookies, so I bet you will too.

You are thrilled about your upcoming trip to Texas where you'll spend five days alone with your grandparents, Jo Jo and Bubba. I know you're excited about swimming in their pool, going to the park and American Girl Bistro, but I also know part of the allure is the thrill of being old enough to stay there by yourself. What a great adventure!

 

The next few months will bring a lot of change - starting cheerleading, going to Girl Scout camp, going on your first trip by yourself, starting third grade... maybe part of the current struggles are a bit of anxiety about the future. I know you'll do great though. You always make change look so easy. Maybe we don't always see that there is a little anxiety behind the bravado.

I love you Elise! Thanks for 7.5 years (and 1.5 weeks) of fun and love!

Love, Mamma

Letter to Nina, 5 Years

Dear Nina,

 

Five years – what a great age! After weeks of asking the all-important questions, “How many days ‘til my birthday?”, “How many days ‘til my party?”, and “How many days ‘til we can get the High School Musical 3 DVD?”, you looked a bit shocked and incredulous when I told you happy birthday this morning. You quickly got over the surprise though and moved on to full bore excitement. You went running to the bus stop yelling, “I’m five today! I’m five today!” with a smile on your face and a spring in your step. This afternoon, we had your classroom party for which you did all the planning… a craft accompanied by Oreos – double chocolate Oreos and mint Oreos. You also dictated your birthday dinner menu, “macaroni and cheese, meatballs, and pizza.” I did a slight variation on that with a little broccoli thrown in for good measure, but that seemed to suffice. You always have strong opinions and aren't shy in expressing them.

 

 

You are the child who takes me to extremes. You make me smile and laugh like nobody else in one minute, and in the next, you are painting your doll with fingernail polish or dragging your baby sister around the house by her feet.

 

Your sense of humor is priceless… it isn’t always what you say, but more often your tone, voice, or delivery. You definitely make us laugh every day. This past weekend, while we were out for breakfast, you got up to retrieve a straw, and upon returning to the table announced with a grin, “I jollied right back here just like a little elf!” I don’t know where you come up with this stuff, but it makes me smile.

 

 

Your mischievous side will be the death of me though. Last week, you were coaxing Addie to climb the stairs saying, “Come on Addie… up here! Come on up the stairs!” When I rescued Addie and said, “Don’t encourage her to go up the stairs. She isn’t good at stairs yet, and she could fall and get hurt.” You replied, “I didn’t do that.” “Uhh yeah… you did. I heard you say, ‘Come up here.’” Then you sheepishly responded, “I didn’t think you heard that.”  Nice.

 

 

The doll painting episode will probably forever be seared in your brain as “the time that mom got really, really insanely mad.” I figure that’s not entirely a bad thing though. I very clearly remember the time when I tried the bold faced move of telling my parents that I would swallow some foul tasting medicine if they left the room and didn’t watch. The bright pink syrup left as evidence in the white porcelain sink exposed my brilliance, and that was the day my dad got really, really insanely mad. I still remember that day. Maybe you’ll look back on this day and just realize that your mom was human. We all blow a gasket occasionally, and that’s OK as long as we pick up the pieces.

 

This year will bring a lot of change in your life - starting kindergarten, riding the bus, and going to track-out camp. You are both excited and nervous, but I know you'll do great. Transitions have always made you anxious, and perhaps always will, but I know you're ready for kindergarten and will love it!

 

Thanks for all the laughs, Nina! Happy 5th Birthday!

 

Love, Mamma

Letter to Addison, One Year

Dear Addison,

Today you turned one. Although you maintained the activity level of a meatloaf for 11 months, you are definitely moving now. Your funny, awkward, endearing bum scootch is getting faster, and in just the past week, you've started to crawl short distances. You are even pulling up to standing and beginning to cruise. The inquisitive toddler in you is beginning to emerge as you explore the house with your new found mobility. Last night as I was running your bath, you threw both your shoes in the toilet. Awesome. Thanks.  Last week, I caught you just as you were inserting a small metal object into an electrical outlet (Yes, all outlets were babyproofed immediately following that incident). The most astonishing thing about that was the identification of the small metal object. You had somehow managed to unscrew the screw that holds the outlet cover to the wall and that's what you were using to try to fry yourself! I think you may be following in Nina's footsteps as a little junior engineer.

 

Your daycare teacher described you well one day recently. After watching Nina pick you up (all 28 pounds of you) and drag you awkwardly around the room, she said, "Addison, it is a good thing you're a big baby. I'd be worried about you if you were a little delicate thing." I think that is true for you both physically and emotionally. You are not a "little delicate thing" by any stretch of the imagination. You are a tough cookie both inside and out. You are not easily frazzled and usually roll with whatever the day holds for you. I think you got your father's disposition. You are pretty self sufficient when it comes to eating or taking a bottle. I think that comes with the territory of being a third child though. If you had to wait for mom or dad any time you were hungry, you might just starve.

 

 

Tonight we had a small birthday dinner for you at Carrabba's. Your dad and I decided that you will have many years to torture us with birthday dinners at McDonald's and Chuck E. Cheese, so since we got to choose this year, we chose one of our favorites. We ordered you a small serving of whipped cream for dessert, and I don't think you liked it nearly as much as your party hat.

 

   

This first year has gone by lightning fast, and I can hardly believe it is over. Although a big part of me doesn't want it to come to an end, I also know I'm blessed to have had a healthy baby who is growing up and developing as she should. You add a touch of sweetness to a house often filled with drama and chaos. Of course, you will add your own level of chaos in the coming year as you get more and more mobile and start exploring your world. Age twelve to twenty-four months is always a wild ride, but I know it will be fun. I can't wait to see your interpretation of what it means to be a toddler.

Happy First Birthday, Addie! I Love You!

Love, Mamma

Letter to Elise, 7 years

Dear Elise,

 

Seven years ago today, the world was still reeling from the events of September 11, and we were welcoming a new life into the world. It was a scary time to venture into parenthood, but we felt so blessed to have a new precious life to celebrate in the midst of all the chaos.

 

You are our drama queen, and that started on day one. You came bursting into the world in a hurry, giving me a fourth degree laceration in the process. Until you learn what a fourth degree laceration is, I'll spare you the gory details, but it isn't pretty. In the hospital, I became known as "fourth degree", as in, "Oh, you're the fourth degree, aren't you?" and during grand rounds, "And here we have a fourth degree." The day after we came home from the hospital, we raced back to the emergency room when I had an extremely high fever. We spent several more days in the hospital juggling our lives as new parents, learning how to care for a newborn, and battling my infection.  You definitely gave us a run for our money that first week of your life. You knew how to stir up some drama even then.

 

Now you are seven years old, and it is clear you're beginning the transition to becoming a sweet young lady. Years five and six were a bit hard on all of us, but we've seen a lot of change as you approach seven. The all-out tantrums and melt-downs after school are fading away, and we're seeing a polite, fun, helpful girl start to emerge. You could still win a prize in any tantrum contest that comes your way, but those moments are no longer part of our daily routine.  Nina still knows how to push your buttons better than anyone, but you're learning new ways to deal with your pesky little sister... sometimes leaving the room to play by yourself, and sometimes just giving in to what she wants to ease the conflict. You're not a push-over by any means, but you're just learning an important life lesson - how to pick your battles.

 

 

 

Second grade seems to be going well so far. You've commented that it is "a lot of work", but you're tackling it as best you can. Reading seems to have finally clicked for you, and it is so exciting to see you now reading for fun. Reading was such a test in frustration in kindergarten and half of first grade, but you get it now, and you're learning to love it.

 

I don't think you've found "your thing" yet, but you have tried dance, soccer, and gymnastics and enjoyed them all. You do love to ride your bike which makes your dad exceptionally proud! I think eventually your passion in life will be something artistic - drama, art, or perhaps a craft. Your face just lights up when you go to art or drama track-out camps.

 

 

 

 

Some days, I wish I had your self-confidence. You can walk into any track-out camp or park, not knowing a soul, and find a new friend within minutes. That's a great skill to have in life. I hope you never lose it.

 

You have always been a Daddy's little girl, and that is still true today. You start off every day by coming to his side of the bed to greet him in the mornings, and he is the one who always seems to know how best to comfort you when you're upset. You have a special bond with your Daddy, and I think it is because in some ways, you are a lot like me. He understands how you tick because he understands me.

 

 

 

I think seven is going to be a great year for you, and I'm looking forward to seeing more of the sweet young lady you are becoming.

 

Happy Seventh Birthday!

 

Love,

Mama

Letter to Nina, 4.5 years

Dear Nina,

Lately, it seems like you grow up a little more every day. You're coming out of your shell and finding your place in the world, and I love watching it all unfold. You have such a fun personality, and we never know quite what to expect next. You definitely keep us on our toes.

 

You go back and forth between being the shy little kid who is too nervous to participate in anything to being a funny, daring, gregarious spirit ready to try something new with gusto. A year ago, you did soccer. Each week, the first half the practice was consumed with your watching from the sidelines or glued to the coach. This year, I took you to your first gymnastics class, and you jumped right in, trying out every apparatus and having a ball! From day one, you were up on the full height balance beam, walking across with toes pointed, stepping over cones! The smile across your face was priceless.

Being a big sister really suits you. You adore Addison and are so proud to be her big sister. You love to talk to her, sing to her, feed her, hug her, and make her laugh. As much as you like to torment your big sister, you are really quite sweet to your younger sister!

  

You are such a morning person. I, very definitely, am not, and If I hadn't actually pushed your body out of mine, I might not believe you were my child. We're never sure how the day will start when you come in our room in the morning. Often, you come in dressed from head to toe in princess or ballerina attire wanting the bows tied on your ballet slippers. Other days, you come in completely dressed for school wanting help with a button or hairbow. A couple days ago, you came in stating, "Somebody wrote on something… before we moved here… before we lived in this house, they wrote on something, so I've been cleaning it with a sponge and soap and water, but I can't get it clean."  I've really got to find a way to harness all your morning energy to put it into something useful. As soon as you're old enough to do laundry, you can bet that's how you'll be spending your mornings! As it turns out, you were attempting to clean the top of a box of blocks that you had previously written all over (as opposed to the "somebody who lived in our house before us"). You had made a huge mess, but you sure thought you were being helpful. By the time we get downstairs in the mornings, you have typically fixed yourself breakfast, turned on the CD player, sung several High School Musical songs into your microphone and had at least 2-3 wardrobe changes.

On the topic of wardrobe… your sense of style may be the death of me. I'm starting to believe that you are purposefully trying to torture your mother as payback for all the years of matchy-matchy outfits and hairbows and too many matching sister sets. I promise I'm trying to scale back on that, but you seriously may give me a full-on panic attack one day with one of your combos!  You pick out the "prettiest" shirt and the "favorite" skirt with no regard for whether or not the two share any colors in common. I try to hold back my aghast and let you express yourself, but do you have to make it so difficult? Seriously, you put together some real doozies!  You definitely got your sense of style from your father, or at least my plan is to blame it on him.

  

(Excuse the greasy looking face in that first photo. That's how the independent you applies sunscreen. Not a single ray of sunshine can reach your face after you've applied sunscreen in the morning!)

Disciplining you remains one of our biggest challenges. You are smart, savvy, and know how to work the system. If we put you in time-out, you just sit there with a look on your face like, "I love sitting on the stairs. This is exactly how I planned to spend my afternoon."  If we threaten to throw away toys that haven't been put away, you respond with "Yeah, yeah... do that. Throw away the play-doh.", and then you truly don't seem to mind when I do. I have to be careful with my threats so I don't find myself throwing out a really pricey toy. Typically, threatening loss of TV priveleges works better than anything else with you. That seems to be the one threat that works at least most of the time. Even that isn't foolproof though. A few nights ago, after having told you to get back in bed at least 4 times, I threatened that you would lose your TV priveleges the next day if you got out of bed once more. You walked down the hall a few minutes later, came to me and said, "Mom, I want to cancel TV tomorrow because I have to tell you something." You definitely like to be the one in control. I was guessing that by the next morning, you would have forgotten completely about our conversation and then been crushed when I told you no TV, but the next morning, you got up saying, "Mom, remember... I lost my 'priveges'?" You're very calculating at times. If a warning has been issued, I can almost see the wheels turning in your head weighing your options, "If I hit Elise, I won't get to go to the pool. I really want to hit Elise, but I love to swim. You know what?... I can always go to the pool tomorrow instead." WHACK! We're forever trying out new methods for discipline, but you always seem to outsmart us and win in the end. If you're doing this at 4, I don't even want to contemplate the teenage years!

Bedtime is a source of contention between you and us. You get out of bed several times before finally going to sleep, and the frustrating part is that you are smart enough to think up really good excuses every time you get up. It is hard to be mad at you when your knee is bleeding and you're clearly in need of a bandaid, even if we do suspect that you cleverly picked the scab off for that very purpose. Tonight, you were a bit wired, so your dad was worried we would have to deal with even more than the usual number of excursions from bed. He came up with this brilliant way to tire you out.

 

 

You put a smile on my face every day, Nina. Happy 4 and a half birthday! I love you!

Love,

Mamma

Letter to Addison, 6 months

One of my favorite bloggers, Dooce, writes a letter to her daughter Leta every month. I always enjoy reading them, and I know some day Leta will treasure them. I love the idea, but trying to write three letters every month would just be setting myself up for failure. I've decided to try for twice a year instead. Here is my first.

Dear Addison,

 

You turn 6 months today. It is hard for me to believe half of your first year is already behind us. It has flown by way too fast.  You are such a love and delight. I'm relishing in every moment of this too short baby time, absorbing it all, and trying to keep every moment in memory... the snuggles, the coos and gurgles, your sweet little toes, the smiles and belly laughs, the squeezable rolls on your belly and legs, your burps that would make a frat boy proud, that soft fuzzy head, the little open mouth kisses you give, the sheer delight you find in splashing in the bathtub, and even the crying and screaming. It all goes by too fast, and soon you'll be chasing after your big sisters, rolling your eyes at us, and singing High School Musical songs at the top of your lungs along with the two of them. For now, you seem to have almost endless patience with your sisters. It amazes me. Occassionally your big blue eyes glance at me with a look that says, "Mom, what is this crazy sister person doing? Why is she in my face singing like that?", but for the most part, you just watch their antics and sit quietly while they climb on top of you or shake toys an inch away from your face. One of these days, I'm sure you'll figure out that hair pulling is your best defense, but you haven't quite mastered that one yet.

 

 

You've rolled over once, but despite the great fanfare we gave your big accomplishment, you have yet to do it again. I'm sure you'll be glad when you can roll on your own though. Right now, Nina likes to roll you, and that's just a broken arm or dislocated shoulder waiting to happen. Let's just say she isn't as gentle as she could be.  You're sporting one tooth now with another soon to follow, and you're eating solid foods which I can't shovel in fast enough. Oatmeal and peas must be a delicious combination. You have started attending daycare two days per week. I can't say that you're thrilled to be there, but you seem to like it just fine, and it gives me a chance to recharge my mommy batteries by writing code a couple days per week.

 

Our adjustment to being a family of five has gone pretty smoothly... not without mishaps, of course (like when I left my car running outside a restaurant while we ate dinner, or when your Dad left you in the car), but overall, I think we've handled it fairly well. You get all the credit for that though. You have rolled with the punches. You get dragged to school functions, swim lessons, birthday parties, the bus stop, and you just take it all in stride. You have a sweet, laid-back disposition. I can't wait to see more of your personality as it continues to emerge.

 

 

Happy 6 month birthday, Addie! I love you!

 

Love,

Mamma