You're Making it Easy: 13 month updates
You make it really, super easy for mama to remember to write about your milestones.
You must know that mommy is a total space cadet lately so you do all you can to ensure I can't forget the date you do your firsts.
The first time you climbed down the stairs?
On your 13 month birthday.
It was June 23rd.
On that day I came home from a very adult, all women bridal shower.
It was a day where mommy could run around and sweat just a little bit less than usual, despite the blistering heat, because she didn't have to constantly bend up and down to pick up her sweet baby that, lately, likes to dart in all directions of imminent danger.
On that day, mommy could bend down like usual. Like the old days.
Because when you bend down in a summery cotton dress while holding a baby girl that likes to yank on the general boob covering areas it's very likely someone will get a sneak preview of some extremely soft porn.
And mommys that have to constantly bend over to pick up a wriggler generally do a semi-squat and hold onto the back of their dress in an attempt to avoid pulling a Britney.
So that day.... that Saturday... that 23rd of the month... mommy was quite content to have her little one at home with daddy, where he could witness this first.
He admitted it when I came home.
The daddy-on-duty beamed as he told your relaxed, porn-free mama that you got down the stairs on your own for the very first time.
And that woman's eyes widened with pride.
"No way! That's awesome! How do you know? Did you see her?"
To which he didn't even seem remotely concerned he would be in trouble.
"No..... no, I didn't see it."
Confused, I pressed on, my eyebrows contorting into a new shape, "well then how do you know she got down the stairs?"
Still smiling, unphased, he came back, "I was watching T.V. and then I heard her downstairs."
Of course, this suggested that for a brief window of time, my husband wasn't manning the fort.
He knew there was a shred of evidence to suggest he had been concentrating a little bit more intently on a soccer match than on his small child, but he knew I was so proud, I could care less.
We haven't bought a baby gate.
We decided against it, and it never became a problem.
You seemed to know to avoid that area, and when you would venture near, you and I would scootch down on our bottoms side by side.
I tried for a solid 6 weeks to teach you how to get down on your own.
And,
then,
while I was away drinking cocktails mid-day with girlfriends and not flashing said friends with gratuitous crotch and booby shots thanks to my baby not pulling on the tender threads of my dress,
that's when,
You took the initiative and made it down the stairs,
all on your own.
You're my independent baby girl.
You must know that mommy is a total space cadet lately so you do all you can to ensure I can't forget the date you do your firsts.
The first time you climbed down the stairs?
On your 13 month birthday.
It was June 23rd.
On that day I came home from a very adult, all women bridal shower.
It was a day where mommy could run around and sweat just a little bit less than usual, despite the blistering heat, because she didn't have to constantly bend up and down to pick up her sweet baby that, lately, likes to dart in all directions of imminent danger.
On that day, mommy could bend down like usual. Like the old days.
Because when you bend down in a summery cotton dress while holding a baby girl that likes to yank on the general boob covering areas it's very likely someone will get a sneak preview of some extremely soft porn.
And mommys that have to constantly bend over to pick up a wriggler generally do a semi-squat and hold onto the back of their dress in an attempt to avoid pulling a Britney.
So that day.... that Saturday... that 23rd of the month... mommy was quite content to have her little one at home with daddy, where he could witness this first.
He admitted it when I came home.
The daddy-on-duty beamed as he told your relaxed, porn-free mama that you got down the stairs on your own for the very first time.
And that woman's eyes widened with pride.
"No way! That's awesome! How do you know? Did you see her?"
To which he didn't even seem remotely concerned he would be in trouble.
"No..... no, I didn't see it."
Confused, I pressed on, my eyebrows contorting into a new shape, "well then how do you know she got down the stairs?"
Still smiling, unphased, he came back, "I was watching T.V. and then I heard her downstairs."
Of course, this suggested that for a brief window of time, my husband wasn't manning the fort.
He knew there was a shred of evidence to suggest he had been concentrating a little bit more intently on a soccer match than on his small child, but he knew I was so proud, I could care less.
We haven't bought a baby gate.
We decided against it, and it never became a problem.
You seemed to know to avoid that area, and when you would venture near, you and I would scootch down on our bottoms side by side.
I tried for a solid 6 weeks to teach you how to get down on your own.
And,
then,
while I was away drinking cocktails mid-day with girlfriends and not flashing said friends with gratuitous crotch and booby shots thanks to my baby not pulling on the tender threads of my dress,
that's when,
You took the initiative and made it down the stairs,
all on your own.
You're my independent baby girl.
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