Santa

We debated whether or not to take Lilli to see Santa for a few weeks. We went through a variety of excuses before we decided that we couldn't be responsible for her missing out on some of the essential traditions of being a kid. Visiting Santa is something I remembered doing as a kid and thought it was our duty as parents to include Lilli in this cultural custom.

(Trying on her Santa hat, she was in tears moments before this photo was taken)

So we dressed the little one in her Christmas dress, packed a bag of snacks and books, and headed over to the dreaded mall. We got there an hour before the end of Santa's break, so we stood at the end of a very long line of restless children and grumpy parents. I took her around the mall while Dave stood in line, we passed her back and forth trying to keep her entertained, and even bribed her content with snacks and dippin' dots ice cream.

We stood in line for two hours, and in comparison to some of the children in line, she was happy and very well behaved. Other children were crying, fighting, and destroying anything in their way. Some parents were threatening their children, other's grabbing them by their arms, yelling at them to calm down. We stood quietly, singing songs and pointing out words she did not know. At one point towards the end of our journey, Dave held her and I read her a book while a few kids gathered nearby watched over our shoulder. And then we were at the velvet rope, waving to Santa and Mrs. Claus and saying "ho, ho, ho!"

Unfortunately, that is the end of this happy story. Of course a 15 month old wants nothing to do with a grumpy, sweaty stranger a full costume. She screamed the second Dave put her down, she refused to sit on his lap and instead we got a quick picture while she stood next to them looking at mom instead of the camera.

Afterwards, I felt exhausted and found myself wondering whether this is a tradition we want to include in our family's future. Sure, it is one that I have in my memory, but Santa was also played by a family member or close family friend. Maybe next year we'll reconsider our decision to follow the cultural norms. She would have been happier to share some ice cream with us and walk around somewhere new. Next year she may be able to express her interest, or lack there of, and instead we will spend some quality time together not cattle herded into a line of screaming kids and angry parents.

Perhaps we'll change our mind when the spirit of the holidays takes over our brains and convinces us that we must participate in all that the season has to offer. Maybe next year my guilt of keeping her from the every day joys (and grief) of being a kid will overtake my sensibility and she will have a 2010 photo of her standing next to Santa looking the opposite direction of everyone else. Either way, she still steals our hearts no matter how the picture turns out.

Happy Holidays!

"Song of the Entry"

Silver Lining by Rilo Kiley

(song picked by Lilli)

Stories.

Every day, before nap and bedtime, we have story time. Lilli just needs to see the sign for stories or hear the word "story" and she will take off running towards her bedroom. She will bang on the door until we catch up to her and repeats "Ree-ree!" (which is "story" for those of you that don't understand Lilli-speak) over and over until the door is opened. Most of the time, there are no less than five books read for a nap and ten for bed.

Lilli will let you know which books she likes (or doesn't) and is more than outspoken about whether she wants us to read a few more before she goes down to sleep. Some nights, when we're exhausted and ready to just finish the standards, she'll protest with all of her might. Signing "more" and yelling "Ree-ree!" over and over, pointing at which ever book she wants next. No matter our mood, the events of the day, or time constraints, we will read as many stories as Lilli requests. How do you say "no" to reading? It'd be like saying she's had enough veggies and fruit.

Some days, she will dump her entire basket of books across the entire floor of our living room for the thirtieth time that day, sit in the middle and read. It's days like this that we're glad we powered through the millionth read of Olivia, Little Elephant's Listening Ears, or Peek-a-boo Kisses.

"Song of the Entry"

Wrecking Ball by Mother Mother

Weaner

Two weekends ago would be the end of an era and the beginning of independence. We filled up a sippy cup of milk, sat down on the floor and started our regular routine. Brush Lilli's teeth (also pronounced "teessh"), read all of her bedtime stories, sang our favorite bedtime songs and did some hard core cuddling. This night was to be different than any other night we have ever had as a family. There would be no nursing before sleep this night.

Lilli has been down to one nursing a day for a few weeks. There had always been a reason not to cut that last one out of the equation. It's a week night, we have company, she's sick, she wasn't getting enough cow's milk yet, or simply she's not ready. Truth of it was... I wasn't ready. I've never been the type to really embrace breastfeeding. It was something I was doing for her, I didn't love it. I didn't gushed with emotion and I certainly didn't feel the connection between her and me was only because of feeding times, it was always for the greater good. The greater good that was no longer an issue.

I had ran out of excuses and I had made the decision long before I made the leap. She is now drinking 20+ oz of cow's milk a day, she can put herself to sleep at naps and bedtime, and she wasn't asking to nurse unless provoked. I changed my birth control back to my regular brand, one that would inevitably eliminate my supply. I could tell that she wasn't getting anything out of our bedtime nursings. It was time.

So after Dave said his goodnight, I rocked her in my arms humming my favorite bedtime lullaby. I told her how much I loved her and gave her a million kisses. I hugged her so tight I think I might have cut off her breathing for a second. I put her into bed, hummed one last song for her, tucked her in tight, gave her a kiss, told her we loved her, and shut the door behind me.

I sat on the floor in our room next to the monitor as a few tears rolled down my cheek. Saying goodbye was harder on me than it was on her. She played her glow-worm a few times, humming to herself like she always does before falling asleep. And without a single peep or complaint, she fell asleep.

It was beautiful and sad. I was so proud yet I was mourning my loss but not hers. My baby made another leap towards independence. I was almost lonely. Now every night she puts herself to sleep after I hum my favorite bedtime song and squeeze her too tightly. Sometimes I run back for one last kiss on her forehead before closing the door. I'll miss our time together, but now when we snuggle together, it's because we want to not because she's hungry or needs to be consoled. That makes it more special.

"Song of the Entry"

Baby Mine by Betty Noyes

Playground organizer

Each morning, weather and mood permitting, I take Lilli to the playground. Before commencing play time, she does is an inspection of how things changed since the day before.

First, she checks to see if anyone put mulch in the teeter-totter. Depending on the status, she will either fill it up for the next person or clean it out.


Second, she checks the steps of the big equipment to make sure they're cleared off. This is something she has done since the first time we took her to the playground near our house. She doesn't like when there is any dirt or mulch on the steps, so she places each individual piece through the holes in the steps. She will not continue to the next step until each step is cleared off.


Finally, she walks over to her favorite alligator to say hello.


Some days Lilli spends most of her time organizing. Pine cones belong outside of the play area, mulch goes the ground (unless the teeter totter is empty), and large pine needles belong in the grass. Finally, big pieces of bark are a victory in exploration.


It's interesting to watch her sort out where things belong and I'm always curious to where she came up with these rules. Since Dave and I are quite organized, it's not surprising that she has inherited this strange quirk and it's entertaining to watch.

"Indie Song of the Entry"

Just Like Heaven by Joy Zipper

Family-isms

Every once in a while I notice that Lilli has picked up on something I never noticed either Dave or I do until I watch it through her actions. She has the same taste in foods, similar personality traits, and makes the same faces as we do in certain situations. We've passed along a lot of our "-isms" to her without even noticing.

It shouldn't be surprising, considering we are the main teachers in her life. Somehow, it always amuses me to hear her gasp when she drops something or furrow her brow in the same way as Dave when he's debating. The most amusing of the "-isms" that we've passed on make me giggle every single time.

When we sit on the patio, Lilli finds my favorite chair (which happens to be my beach chair because it's low to the ground and reclines) and climbs on to find a comfy spot. When she's done adjusting herself she lets out a loud "Ahhhhhh..." Every. Single. Time. I had never noticed it was something I had done until she mimicked it.

Another strange gesture she's picked up from me is a thinking one. When deciding or waiting for me to figure out what she needs, she will tap her pointer finger to her chin (sometimes it goes in her mouth, but you get the idea) and hums very loudly "Hmmmmmmm..." It wasn't until I did it and she copied over and over that I realized she picked it up from my repetitive habit.

How have I never noticed that I do these things before now?! It's unbelievable that I have gone so long without ever noticing my own strange "-ism." It made me wonder what other strange habits and gestures she will pick up in the future.

A few things I thought of when being concerned about the bad habits she may pick up:

• Q-tip Obsession: not being able to go even one shower without cleaning out my ears.
• Second Shelf Syndrome: a habit I picked up from my BFF in college, only choosing the second item on a shelf because the first one is somehow tainted.
• OCD: I put her in the car seat, drive to the end of our complex, drive back to the house, take her out of her car seat, check the lock, repeat. I know it's insane.
• Trying Face: Many people have asked me "why do you look so angry?" while I work hard on something. My trying hard face. Sometimes accompanied by a "it's difficult" face. If you've seen them, you'd know.
• Concentration Tongue: Dave can't play his guitar without sticking out his tongue. Even when concentrating to not do it, eventually he forgets.
• Child-like sitting: also known as sitting criss cross apple sauce.
• Singing out loud, even if it's the wrong words.
• Naming inanimate (and animate) objects: Usually given proper names. (e.g. Mr. Squirrel, Mrs and Mr. Duck, Mr. Car)

We're a weird group and we've succeeded in passing on the little things to a new generation. I wonder how this will effect her in the long run. When she grows up, will people ask why she does the things she does and have only her parents to blame? Which things will stick? Which ones will she embrace and which will she resent us for passing along?

She may end up with bad knees and hips from sitting with her legs curled under her. She might get funny stares when she concentrates. She could learn to play her favorite instrument with her mouth wide open. There are some personality gifts we will be proud to have given her. She will always have clean ears, her doors will always be locked, she'll sing her favorite song loud and proud even when she's made up her own lyrics, and every animal she meets will feel special because they will be formally addressed.

"Indie Song of the Entry"

Sideburns by The Kabeedies