Month 12

Month 12

I deliberately waited a week after you turned 12 months to write this.  I know you’re probably thinking to yourself that I’m always late writing these posts and that is true but I wanted to see if you turning this monumental milestone would have any impact on your behavior – would I notice a change from infant to the tumultuous toddler.  Believe it or not, yes – I have noticed changes straight off.  Let’s start with the transfer of power from boob to cow.  You’re not a fan of cow and I’ve spent a greater part of the week trying to figure out how to “dress up” milk so to speak to get you to drink it.  This is where I play the hypocrite because as I child, I would not drink milk and I despised the taste for a greater part of my life.  My parents instead put cherry 7up in my bottle and thus began my addiction to the bubbly pop goodness.  You on the other hand will not be receiving sugary soda in your bottle.  No no, I’m determined to develop good habits with you.  I didn’t just sacrifice an entire year of breastfeeding to turn around and give you crap.  You will love cow damnit!

We started 12 months with a bang.  You got sick immediately after receiving your shots and topped it off with a dash of ringworm and some other questionable rash spreading over your body.  Oh, did I fail to mention that the doctor is concerned about the size of your head!  What the hell happened? We were doing great – the first year was a breeze – no illness, rash or major problems.  Two days after your first birthday you become little miss sicky.  I’ve been wiping more snot from your nose this past week than I did the entire frist year of your existence. 

This past month marks the first time I left you at a daycare.  After months of shelving any kind of fitness activity, I decided it was high time to dive back into it.  I was beyond myself to learn that my gym offered free 3 hours of daycare a day.  Too good to be true?  It indeed was.  Not only was it no longer free but you last 1.5 days.  The second day you put up such a scene that they pulled me from the pool to pick you up.  I arrived at the daycare to find you almost catatonic laying in the lap of one of the workers.  They claimed that I had to pick you up because you were carrying a low grade fever.  Dum dums probably took your temp while you were screaming bloody murder – of course you have a fever!  After speaking with your doctor, I’ve decided to follow my instinct and postpone the daycare for a bit.  Maybe we’ll try a little gymboree, although I still think alot of parents that go to those places are cuckoo as hell and I don’t want to be labeled as one of them.  Being that I just signed a new yearly contract at the gym, my options are now to wake up at the ungodly hour of 5:30 to go to the gym.  See the sacrifices I’m making for you – make a list and memorize it because I will speak of them again later.

I’m three paragraphs in and I still haven’t discussed your party.  It was absolutely lovely and exactly how I envisioned.  I went a bit crazy but you only turn 1 once and frankly, it all goes downhill from here so might as well have one party that is spectacular!  I really couldn’t have asked it to go any better and I’m quite surprised with myself that it ended right on the dot – perfection!

Your doctor claims we’re approaching a fun time, meaning between 15 – 18 months.  She claims it’s an exciting time due to the developmental milestones you’ll be achieving and the rapid growth you will experience.  Quite honestly I think she’s trying to fluff the situation because I’ve been around children this age and yes, they all achieve amazing milestone this time and so on and so forth but I’ve also seen the evil in children at this age . . . .oh the evil.  Lord have mercy, I am scared.  I’m seen a brief glimpse of the road we’re headed by example of the tantrum you threw last week.  One thing I’m thankful for is the enjoyment of casual drinking now.  You can throw tantrum after tantrum but I’m good as butter with a cocktail. 

You’re flying for the first time at the end of the month and I’m sure that will provide some good blog material for month 13 but until then, don’t cry too hard and don’t turn a cold shoulder to cow just yet – I promise I can make cow as appealing as boob.  They don’t call it miracles for nothing.

Love,

Momma

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