Happy 13th!

Two posts in one day! Happy 13 month birthday to MP!

For brevity's sake, I'm going to do this one in bullet-style, highlighting some new and fun stuff!

• Talking. Right now your favorite sound to make is "ck." You say "clock" (but you can't say the "l," unfortunately), "truck," "duck," and just "ck-ck-ck-ck." You have an amazing ability to extend that sound. You have gotten "Dada" down, and always know Dad's name. You also point to pictures of him and say Dada. We have proof that you look like him since you've pointed to a few pictures of yourself and said Dada. No Mama yet, but if someone asks you "Where's Mama?" you point to me at least 75% of the time. Yay!
  
• Word recognition. You know so many words, even though you can't say them. I had three stuffed toys that were all almost the same size - a monkey, a doll and a duck. When I put the three in front of you and ask you "Where's the doll?" or whatever, you always pick the right one. It really amazes me!
  
• Walking. You walk everywhere all the time. You are so fast! I sometimes have a hard time catching you and I have to be on my guard constantly. The other day we came back from the grocery store and I was putting stuff up when I realized it was too quiet. I remembered that I had left the gate blocking the front of the house (where the stairs are) down. I ran as fast as I could and you had made it up three stairs. I had a heart attack. You thought it was hilarious. Thankfully you didn't take any tumbles, and I learned a valuable lesson.
• Playing games. It's wonderful to see your sense of humor develop. The Harpers pride themselves on being funny people and I think my sense of humor isn't too shabby either. You think it's funny when I imitate you. You think it's funny to show me your chewed up food (we're working on stopping this one). You think chasing us is funny (we run away from you saying "oh no, oh no, she's going to get me!") We laugh together every day, which I absolutely love.
• Affection. Since I've started staying home you have become more affectionate. You're not a snuggler, but you will put your head on my shoulder or rest your cheek against mine occasionally. I feel like you're telling me you love me when you do that. Thank you. I love you, too.
  
• Dance. You have begun to love music and to dance. In addition requiring me to sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider (at least 30 times a day) you know where the C.D. player is. When you're in the mood to dance you frantically point to it until I put music on. Sometimes we dance Salsa together, and sometimes you prefer your own dance routine. I'll have to post a video of your dancing.
  

We love you so much! Thank you for being a fun playmate and precious daughter.

Love,
Mama

Not ready for siblings

We went over to MP's great-grandmother's house a few days ago, and one of her friends brought by her grandson. He is only 18 days younger than MP with a head full of red hair.

At first MP just ignored the little boy "B" until he had the audacity to start playing with one of HER toys. She started screaming "DAT DAT DAT DAT!!!" and marched over to him. She pulled the toy away and took it to the other side of the room, glaring at him. Fortunately the grandmother had a good sense of humor and we just snickered over it. She repeated this display a couple of times before I had to physically force her to share. Poor B didn't really have a chance since he's not walking yet.

Then yesterday we went to a playdate. One of the women was there with her 19 month old and 3 week old baby. She was dealing with her 19 month old when the baby started to cry. I asked her if I could pick him up.

It's amazing how light babies are! I was shocked when I picked him up - it was like picking up a feather. I asked how much he weighed, expecting her to say five or six pounds, and he was over eight pounds! I guess eight is light when you're used to 23!

(Total aside - when I first came home with MP I developed a mild case of this because of supporting the weight of her head. It's amazing to think that the weight of an 8 pound baby's head could have seemed heavy to me then. Having a baby makes you stronger).

But I digress. I was bouncing the baby on my shoulder when MP noticed me from across the room. At first she was nonplussed, but after looking at me for about a minute, I could see the gears turning in her head. She dropped her toy and walked over to me. She reached up and started hitting my legs and knees while whining. I had no choice but to pass the baby off and pick her up. She was not happy that her Mama was holding another baby!

I don't think MP would be happy to have a younger sibling any time soon..

Alabama Bar Exam

The intrepid Aunt C is currently in a northern state waiting for the Bar Exam to begin. We know she will do well (Good luck Aunt C!) but I thought I'd take this opportunity to reflect on bar studying and passing.

First of all, I went to law school in a different state than the one in which I took the bar. That was fine, since I passed, but it probably alters my view a bit.

The most terrifying part of the entire bar process was, without a doubt, the application / character and fitness portion. Not that I have anything to hide. I have never been arrested, never been disciplined by my school or university, and only had 1 speeding ticket I had to report. But the process petrified me. I actually had several panic attacks because of the mountain of paperwork. I had to get affidavits. I had to have letters from attorneys (but only certain attorneys qualified). I had to list every place I had lived in the previous 10 years. I had to list valid contact information for someone who could verify I had lived in each of those places. All while paying extra (since I was out of state) and having no one, not a single person to ask questions to, since all of my classmates were applying to another state.

After graduation, I took BarBri. Yes, uninspired, typical BarBri (just a side note - the class action suit against BarBri (for anti-trust violations) is the only lawsuit in American history in which the class was lawyers). And I studied. Sort of.

The Multistate (MBE) is given in (almost) every state. It covers the main topics of first year law school. It's its own little monster that basically amounts to a difficult reading test. I would say about 40% of my time was devoted to studying for the Multistate.

There were two essay portions to my bar - the Alabama-specific portion and the Multistate essay exam (MEE). There were, I believe, 12 topics covered by these essay questions. Of those, I had taken exactly 2 in law school. Two. I did not take Business Associations, Secured Transactions, Estates & Trusts, Family law, Commercial Paper, Conflict of Law, Agency and Partnership, or Trusts and Future Interests. I spent 59% of my time studying these areas of law that of which I knew absolutely nothing before BarBri.

The remaining 1% of my time was devoted to an absurd portion of the bar in which you are required to do some sort of "practical" lawyering (MPT). For example, you are given a "case file" and some "cases" and asked to write a memo. It was so stupid.

The exam itself is a marathon. Alabama is one of the few sadistic states that has a three day bar process. The exam itself is given in a hotel in Montgomery.

I'll admit it - the drive to Montgomery was hell. I bordered on panic the entire way down. I drove in silence - no radio, no C.D.s. I cried. I contemplated what I would do if I failed. What would the firm do.

I stayed bed and breakfast about 4 blocks from the hotel where the exam was administered, which was perfect. This was actually a pure accident as I tried to get a reservation far too late and was left scrambling. I was able to take a nice short walk to and from the exam every day and I didn't have to deal with the sheer insanity of law grads convinced if they read their review outline ONE.MORE.TIME...

I treated the exam like I did a law exam. For the essay portion, I focused on answering the question(s) asked. When I was completely sure of the answer, my answers were very pithy. I only added in extraneous law when I was worried I might have made an error.

The first day ended around lunchtime. I didn't rush back to my room to study. I went to a long lunch, brought a mindless book, and drank a beer. I went to bed early and slept well.

I ate a good breakfast the next day (carb-loaded) and enjoyed the stroll to the exam. I had a horrible seat - I was in the middle of a row of 7. But I still followed my typical exam routine of stopping halfway through to get some water and go to the restroom. I finished early on every exam.

The MBE was horrible. There's just no way around it. For 25% of the questions, I knew what the right answer was. For 50% I had to guess between two or three. For the remaining 25%, I took pure guesses. I always went with my first instinct and tried to read the questions carefully.

I'm really glad that I'll never have to take the bar again. It is a terrifying experience and I'm not convinced that it actually tells the bar whether any particular person will be a decent lawyer or not.

For all of those folks out there about to embark on the hazing ritual, quit studying. Watch some brainless t.v. and get some sleep. It's just a test, and you'll do fine.

Conversations with a 1 year old

Scene: All day every day

MP: Dat?

Me: Couch.

MP: Dat?

Me: Clock.

MP: Dat?

Me: Mama.

MP: Dat?

Me: Light.

Scene: Indian restaurant for lunch

MP: Owww. (pointing)

Me: What? There's no owl.

MP: Owww! (pointing)

Me: Oh, I see. That's a Buddha statue, but it looks like and owl (maybe a tiny bit?). I can understand your conf...

MP: OWWWWW!

Me: That's right, that's an owl!

Scene: MP in the back seat.

MP: Dat? (motioning frantically)

Me: Um....

MP: Dat? (motioning by pointing fingers to each other)

Me: Finger?

MP: DAT? DAT? DAT? DAT? (Fingers and hands poking frantically together)

Me: Oh.. (singing and motioning) The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout. Down came the rain....

40 years

As my blog title hints, I'm married to a rocket scientist. He would disagree with his title, but essentially he is working to make sure that people will return to deep space - the moon and beyond.

NASA and manned space flight has always been a part of my life. I grew up knowing names like Von Braun, Grissom, White, Lovell, Davis. I went to Space Camp (just down the road). Lots of folks have heard of the Johnson Space Flight Center (a la "Houston we have a problem") or the Kennedy Space Flight Center, but unfortunately outside of Huntsville, not too many people know about the Marshall Space Flight Center (MSFC).

In honor of the 40th anniversary of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walking on the moon, all MSFC employees and their families were invited to the Space and Rocket Center. There were astronauts signing autographs. There were Apollo engineers discussing the various stages of the Saturn V (one of which is on display, permanently, at the Space and Rocket Center). There were free drinks, a moon pie and the obligatory green screen picture of us on the surface of the moon. Dad, MP and I thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

As I watched the snarky evening comedy shows tonight, having enjoyed a warm day marvelling at the audacity of mankind, I'll admit surprise at hearing the moon landing mocked. I should have expected it from the nothing-is-sacred Comedy Central t.v. lineup, but I didn't. And I was bothered by it.

I'm not going list off all of what NASA has brought us (and yes, it's more than just Tang and velcro). I'm not going to debunk the remaining crazy conspiracy theorists. I'm not even going to indulge in the rumblings that humans must find a home other than Earth.

Instead I hope that folks of my generation - who did not watch Walter Cronkite tell the world there was a man on the moon - will remember two things. One, I paraphrase from Dad. People mocked Christopher Columbus when he decided to take off for the far side of the world in a few boats. You simply never know what a journey into the unknown will teach you.

And the second I paraphrase from Jim Lovell. Take a seemingly impossible task, make a clear goal and there is almost no limit to what humans working together can accomplish.

Pox-gate, v. 3.0

Yes, I realize this is the third post about a mild childhood illness. Yes, I realize how boring this is. And yes, I have turned into a total Mommyblogger.

Dr. Google Image, Dr. Nana Harper, and Dr. Mom (that would be me) have all agreed that MP did NOT have the chicken pox. Her rash actually looked a bit more like measles. Either way, she never got itchy (thank God!) and the rash has faded today to the point of being barely visible.

Conclusion - very mild case of measles (or something else, but not chicken pox).

I promise next blog will be about something super-interesting like what I had for lunch or the proper way to load a dishwasher.

Pop Quiz!

This test will be multiple choice. The following image shows:







A) Newest fashion craze - flesh-colored polka dots!



B) Prime example of the wonders of modern medicine!



C) A Pox! Chicken Pox that is!



D) All of the above.







The answer is of course D. Yes, MP has this lovely rash all down her chest, tummy, neck and a bit on her legs. The itching hasn't started yet. I'm sure it will.

I shouldn't have been surprised. Both Dad and I had issues, shall we say, with chicken pox. I had it three times. Yes three. One mild, one severe, and one mild again. Dad had a rare but serious complication after he had the pox. Hopefully we'll just a have a few days of misery and that'll be that.

At least she won't remember it.

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Edited to add: MP got the chicken pox from the vaccine. I still think it's better to get it younger as it can be more severe when she's older. Plus, only around 1% of folks who get the vaccine develop the rash. MP's just special! Or at least that's what Dr. Google tells me.

Why do you let me write these things

Well, I had to go and mention that MP hadn't had a fever yet and of course Saturday night she came down with a low grade fever. I knew something was off when she wanted me to pick her up so that she could rest her head on my chest. MP is a lot of things, but snuggle-bug isn't one of them. While she laid there, I noticed that she felt like a radiator. We took her temp. She had a fever, but it never seemed to get over 100. She was noticeably unhappy but would perk up after a dose of Tylenol.

Went to the doctor today and he confirmed she has a virus, and can't confirm whether or not it is chicken pox. It's a possibility, and we'll know within the next few days, depending on whether or not she develops blisters. Just what I always wanted - a one year old with severely itchy skin!

Fortunately the blood draw went much better this time than before and I think trauma was generally avoided.

MP's a bit like a car - as soon as you take her to the doctor she starts feeling better. She hasn't had a dose of Tylenol since this morning and the fever seems to be gone. So, if we can get through the next few days without any signs of chicken pox, we'll just say LESSON LEARNED... Don't blog about things like "never had a fever" or "never had diarrhea" or "never fallen down the stairs."

Blog is still broken / Catch up

I wanted to wait to post an update when I had fixed my blog, but I'm realizing I'm not going to have the hour or so I need to do that for quite awhile.

Life has been good and busy. I honestly do not have as much time to blog now that I SAH as I did when I was working. During my lunch break at work (or just as a break in general) I would often get a head start on a blog post and update with pictures and do final editing at home. Now my only times to blog are during naps and at night.

Naptime doesn't work because it's my one chance to do housework. While I was working I had a maid come once a week, so I didn't do much toilet scrubbing or mopping. I'm having to re-learn those skills and try to get as much done as possible.

I am usually pretty wiped out after MP goes to bed. I cook dinner most nights and then I honestly fall asleep around 8:30 or so for a nap. I wake up and clean up from dinner, and by that time it's time for The Daily Show and Colbert.

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MP and I are getting into a routine. We leave the house every day. It's absolutely necessary for both of our sanities.

The mornings are for exercise. After breakfast I either take MP for a walk, or I try to go to the gym. I joined a women-only gym with childcare that offers group classes I LOVE - Body Pump and Zumba. Body Pump is a class for lifting weights. In 55 minutes you work your shoulders, biceps, triceps, legs, back, and abs (all major muscle groups, in other words). The music is great and it's really a wonderful workout.

Zumba is basically latin-style dance. That's it. You just dance for an hour. There's an instructor who shows the moves, and you just follow along. They sneak in non-dance moves (like squats) to make sure you hit all of your muscle groups. It is a blast and really aerobic.

Unfortunately, MP has been cramping my plans. Out of nowhere, separation anxiety has set in. It's funny to me that a kid who used to be in daycare is suddenly afraid of being apart from me.

On Tuesday I dropped her off for a Zumba. She cried off and on (I could hear her) and so I cut the workout to just 30 minutes.

Wednesday I tried to go to a Body Pump class. I stayed with her for about 10 minutes playing, hoping she would warm up to the place and the people. She cried when I left, but I was optimistic she would settle down. About 3 minutes into the initial warm up, they came and got me. She refused to calm down.

When I walked in, one of the helpers was holding her and she just pointed and tried to get to me. (She still isn't saying Mama, and she's pretty much quit calling Dad "Dada" as well). I played with her for another 10 minutes to try and get her to settle down. She would start playing with a toy, and then turn around and collapse into my arms. I finally gave up and took her home.

Fortunately my gym has evening classes (both Zumba and Body Pump) and Dad has offered to come home early enough for me to go to those.

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I worry about MP. Constantly. I think worrying is normal? Hopefully? I really worry about her language skills.

MP has several words (Baba, owl, dat?, "bababa" (banana), baboon (balloon) and newly added today, "baw" (ball)). But I worry that she doesn't really call Dad or I, Dada or Mama. If you ask her "Where's the clock?" she will look at the clock. If you ask her "Where is the fan?" she will look at the fan. But if you ask her "Where's Mama?" she just looks confused.

Her doctor wasn't concerned since she has other words and is developing language. But I'm worried. I try to constantly talk to her about my name being Mama. I've quit saying "I'm doing_____" instead I say "Mama's doing _____."

I'm worried because there seemed to be a point in time when she was starting to get it - both for me and Dad, and then that knowledge seems to have disappeared.

I also worry about her parroting skills. She only tries to parrot a word if she thinks she can pronounce it. Thus, she will copy us when we say "ball" or "banana" or "bib" or "dog" but she won't try to say "tree" or "kitty."

This is a really scary time for me, developmentally. Between now and 2 years, she should really develop language. This is when big scary life-altering illnesses can begin to manifest themselves (autism spectrum, developmental disabilities, etc.). So I alternate between freaking out completely and telling myself that children develop at their own pace, she's only 12.5 months old and lots of kids don't get language at all until much later. And then I go do some more Dr. Google research and scare myself. :::sigh:::

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MP's one year check up went well. She is 31 inches long, and weighs 23 pounds. That's the 95th and 75th percentiles, respectively. In one year she's gotten 10 inches taller and more than tripled her weight. Go MP!

They let her stand on the regular scale at this appointment, instead of lying down on the infant scale.

She got 2 shots - chicken pox and I think MMR. I could be wrong on the second one. At any rate, she had no problems with either.

In actuality, MP has been a very healthy child, especially considering that she was in daycare. She has never had a fever (KNOCKING VERY LOUDLY ON WOOD). She did have several colds during the winter, but with rare exception they never seemed to really bother her. She has cut six teeth (and a 7th is popping through) without even the smallest complaint. No ear infections, no vomiting to speak of (every time she has vomited, it's been from coughing or choking), and no diarrhea. She's never had a rash and there are no signs of any allergies.

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The last bit of catching up is that Uncle B has moved to Huntsville!!! He is just down the road from us (literally... he can walk here). We're so excited that he's moved so close, and we've enjoyed spending more time with him. MP thinks that Uncle B hung the moon. She gets so excited when she sees him and a bit hyper. Dad and I are plotting to find Uncle B a girl so that he'll stay here forever!

Broke my blog

I broke my blog trying to do some updates, which is why I have this terrible default template now. I'll work on making it pretty again when I have some time.

365

Wow. One year (and one day). I've been writing this post between sleepless nights and quiet evenings for weeks - months. There's so much. It's so big. I'll try.

I've joked many times that the last few weeks of my pregnancy lasted longer than this entire year. It's true. I was huge, miserable, itchy and so anxious to meet you. My doctor assured me I would go early, but of course I didn't.

And then you came. Like this Christmas present, livelong blessing and profound burden all wrapped into one. Yes, burden. Not because you are unwanted or unloved, but because I felt, and still feel, so unequipped, so ill-prepared. Here was this perfect, curious, wide-eyed creature that was entrusted to me to raise. I figure at the rate I'm learning, I'll feel like I know what I'm doing the day you get married.

I simultaneously long to keep the baby that is being sharpened and refined into a toddler - a kid - and yearn to see you develop. I practically have the entire developmental chart memorized, and push you to meet and beat those milestones. But with each accomplishment, each change, I wish even harder for the first night we met. The hours after your birth you were wide awake. You knew two things - my voice and Dad's voice. You eyes would search for us as we spoke. Your needs were so simple - to eat, to be held, to be kept dry.

Days before I returned to work I was at my breaking point. The weeks of isolation, constant breastfeeding, physical recovery, worry, sleep deprivation and paradigm shift had taken their toll. I got up to nurse you again, after 3 hours of sleep. As I settled into my chair, you unlatched, looked at me, and smiled. Your first smile. Big tears fell on your head as you at breakfast. I told Dad that I honestly didn't care if you ever learned to do anything else. So long as you knew how to smile at me, that was all I needed from you.

And now? You do so much. You talk ("baba" = sippy cup; "owww" = owl; "dat?" = that?; "bap" = book). You walk. You laugh. You play games. You dance to music. You wave bye-bye. You say "hi" with the phone to your ear. "Hieee."

But you are so much more than a list of accomplishments and milestones. You're my sweet daughter who hides her face on my chest when she's sleepy. My stubborn faker who shows her displeasure with a patent fake cry. My curious explorer who must hear me say 1000 times a day that "dat?" is the oven. My baby who is being whittled away into a toddler.

Over and over and over I've heard "enjoy this time - it flies by." I'm sick of hearing that. Sick. Because it's clearly so true. I'm afraid I'll blink and you'll be waving bye as you get on a bus for school. I'll doze and you'll be moving off to college. I'll turn around and you'll be getting married and having a baby of your own. I know that this is the nostalgia of life. The bittersweet of delighting in your growth and longing for the past.

You will always be my baby. My little girl. The apple of my eye. My cutie-pie. My firstborn. You made me a mom and that is the best present I ever got. Thank you.

Happy birthday sweet daughter.