Whoa.

I can't believe it's been over a month since I've posted. Probably because so damn much happened in the last 4 weeks. We went down to Jersey for the family party, went to Syracuse for my brother's wedding, I got sick, Charlotte got sick, we took the cat to the vet, tried to find a fall experience, and so on. It's not just this blog that is suffering. I never decorated for Halloween or finished the scrapbook I wanted to give my brother and his fiancee before they were husband and wife. We still haven't hung up art in our new apartment, and I haven't sorted through my clothes to put away summer stuff and give stuff to the Salvation Army. I've been thinking up blog entries and jotting down ideas in my notebook and in my "sketchbook" blog, but not really posting anywhere. I'm barely keeping up reading all my favorite blogs.

Whining aside, it's been a really thrilling month. I love seeing Charlotte hang out with her 8 year old cousin, K. He's a blast anyway, and I've loved him fiercely since he was a tiny, tiny tot. Seeing him with Charlotte has melted me in a way that I can't really explain - they are cousins, they are related, they are the next generation, and for the time being, they really like each other.

I'm starting to really realize what I can and can't do, and what has escaped me forever. I know that sounds really dramatic, but it's kind of a weird feeling to be picking up little clothes and realizing that Charlotte is never going to wear them again. It's not like my winter pants - I'll see those again next year. She's just not going to wear that tiny pink Red Sox tee shirt next season. Those lady bug Robeez? Not going to be on her feet again.

One thing that I'm kind of sad about is that I never finished a sweater that I really wanted to make for her. I'm a knitter - one who never has time to knit anymore - and I had a lot of things I really wanted to make for her. I've been planning the things to knit for my baby since I first started knitting again in college after a decade-long hiatus. I have patterns and yarn that I bought specifically with MY baby in mind, years before Charlotte was born. I've wanted a baby for so long, and I knew I shouldn't have a baby just yet, but I wanted to prepare. To have a kind of baby hope chest. That seems kind of dorky and desperate, now that I've put it in words, but it's true. I have a lot of plans for my life, personally and professionally, and some of those are on hold, but I always knew I wanted to have a baby, too. When I was a teenager, and couldn't ever imagine being married to someone for the rest of my life, I still imagined myself as a mother. A starving artist in New Orleans feeding her kid from a farmers market and cafe, no less.

Anyway, there is one sweater that I bought the yarn for and printed out the pattern as soon as I saw it. Baby Norgi. The pattern date is spring 2003 - which means it was out before I was married - before I was even engaged! - but I knew I wanted to knit it, and I wanted to knit it for MY baby. I finally started it, 4 years later, when I was pregnant with Charlotte. When I started it, I didn't know whether I was having a girl or a boy, and that was fine with me, since I had gotten the yarn in a gender neutral green and off white colorway. I found out, pretty quickly, that knitting when I was pregnant had the same effect as reading in a car. All those tiny stitches lined up in a row aggravated my morning sickness. Then I found out I was having a girl.

Even though I had bought the yarn in green, I had still always kind of imagined that I'd have a boy first. I'm not sure why, I think it was sort of because I had always wanted a big brother, so I wanted my kids to have a big brother. Maybe it was because Matt had a boys name picked out since, like, 2002. Whatever the reason, I always imagined knitting the sweater for a boy, even though I was determined to knit it in green. Between the mental picture of a round, blond little boy fading away, and the urge to vomit whenever I knit, I just never got around to finishing that sweater. I did knit Charlotte a special little layette, all for her, with yarn that I picked up from a fair just a few days after I found out that I was having a girl. She wore the sweater almost constantly for the first 5 months, and the hat even longer. But I never did finish Baby Norgi.

I kept convincing myself that since I was knitting a larger size, Charlotte could wear it this winter if I finished it by Christmas. And it's so lovely, and I love the yarn, and the pattern is fun. I've worked on it a lot, and I know the size, I know how it would go over her head and fit around her chubby little torso. But when I was changing Charlotte's diaper last night, and putting her skeleton sweatsuit on yesterday for the Halloween Potluck Lunch, I realized that it WASN'T going to fit. Charlotte was never going to wear the sweater I'd been dreaming about for 5 years.

It's kind of a weird feeling. I've been imagining MY kid in THAT sweater for so long. I've been imagining CHARLOTTE in that sweater for 13 months. And I've been making a lot of judgments about myself as a mother and a creative person based on the fact that I have only ever knit my kid one sweater. It's a strange thing to realize that I have been holding onto these thoughts. I feel like I've let myself down. But at the same time, I know that I'm my harshest critic, and to keep relying on these arbitrary, self-determined measures is not good for me. So I'm prepared to let it go. Charlotte is not going to wear Baby Norgi. If I finish it at all, it's not going to go to her. She might not get any sweater at all this year that was made by me. And that doesn't mean I suck as a mom, or a knitter. No one else would say that to me, so I really don't need to say it to myself. Charlotte isn't going to miss another sweater. What she would miss is those stories I've read, the songs we've sung, and the million silly little games we've played. She won't feel the lack, and I shouldn't either.

It's my party and...there were no tears at all. Awesome.

The party was great - despite the fact that we were in a tropical air mass and it poured buckets and 20+ people were squished into my living room/dining room area. But we were all family (even our best friends count as family, even if Kelly refuses the honorary "aunt" title), and everyone stayed pretty cheerful. Charlotte was an excellent co-hostess - she mingled with everyone, and also provided entertainment. She danced and clapped whenever she heard anything resembling music, and she was appreciative of all the gifts and attention. I didn't take any video, because my camera only holds 2 min before it maxes out the memory card, but my brother and his fiancee just bought a camcorder to use on their honeymoon, and Chris taped it and copied it for me. I can't believe we finally have an actual family video! We joked about how it will be hilarious in 15 years when Charlotte makes fun of us for having an actual VHS tape, and we will still make fun of my Uncle Scott for raving about Mamma Mia and how he went to see it three times.

One of my favorite pictures actually isn't from the party - it's Charlotte on Sunday morning realizing that her Uncle Chris is still at the apartment with us.



We get to do this again, a smaller, more exclusive party with my sister-in-law, brother-in-law, Charlotte's paternal grandparents, and her cousin. I am actually super-psyched for that, drama-be-damned. I can't wait to have the cousins together partying it up. Hopefully the almost-eight-year-old's patience will continue to hold, and maybe Charlotte being excited about presents will melt her grandmother. My fingers are duly crossed.

One year.

Today is Charlotte's birthday. I seriously cannot believe it. This is a picture of my sweet little girl in a serious moment this morning. I really wanted to write a post about her birth, how it felt to go from being a pregnant lady to actually being a mom, and how this past year has changed us both so much. All three of us, really. We are so close and happy as a family - if you had told me a year ago that it would have worked out this well, I wouldn't have believed you. If you'd told me two years ago about where I am today, I would have laughed in your face.

I'm so grateful for my family, which was born a year ago today.

It's the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)

But in a good way.

Charlotte is REALLY walking now. Charging up and down her room, the house, outside, at my grandparent's house, everywhere. She's no shrinking violet, either. Charlotte will fall flat on her face and get right back up again. Matt's big fear right now is that she's going to fall on her face and get a black eye right before her one year-old pictures. Which we actually need to make an appointment for. Crap.



In this video, two things are apparent. 1. She inherited my Dennis-the-Menace cowlick. 2. She is way into Halloween-themed books. Her two favorite books right now, completely of her own accord are Spooky and Where is Baby's Pumpkin?

My sister just got a puppy a couple weeks ago. Her husband surprised her and brought him home on the first day of school (she's a teacher in a public Montessori school, teaching grades 1-3). His name is Marek, and he's just a bitty baby. Right now he's 10 or 12 weeks old, and he and Charlotte met up close and personal for the first time today when I went to walk him. Considering how into dogs Charlotte is, I thought she would be more excited - she loved meeting my buddy Anthony's dog Drina last Friday. I think the fact that Marek is her size and was on her level made her a little nervous. Still, Charlotte graciously accepted his tentative kisses, and then they both just kind of observed each other.

Marek is super-photogenic, and very laid-back, for a puppy. He came from a shelter and is some sort of lab/terrier mix. Which is shelter-speak for "he probably has some pit bull in him, because this is, after all, a city shelter." Nicole and Josh are doing a great job with him so far, and he's very well-behaved. I can't wait for Charlotte and Marek to play together when they are both a little older and understand how to be gentle. Well, hopefully they'll understand how to be gentle.

Let's see, what else? I'm kind of stuck on something good to get Charlotte for her first birthday, which is in, ulp, 6 days now. We are having a mostly family based party on Saturday the 27th. Matt's parents and my dad won't be there, so it will be a little weird, but both sets of my grandparents, all my siblings, and my two best friends will be there. And some assorted aunts and uncles. I think it will be just a low-key picnic, provided the weather is nice, and maybe some t-shirt decorating. I loved all the decorated onesies that we did at my baby showers, and would love for Charlotte to have some more.

I knit Charlotte a blanket that is almost done - it's going to be small, more of a lovey than a blanket, but I didn't get it done before she was born, and I didn't get it done for her first Christmas, but dammit! I'm going to get it done for her birthday. She's also been interested a little in dolls and her stuffed animals lately, picking them up and kissing them, and occasionally rocking them. I cleaned up my brother's old Cabbage Patch Kid (after asking him if he wanted me to save it for future generations of his - he said to give it to Charlotte) and ordered him a new outfit off eBay. I also ordered him some cloth doll diapers, and I'll put those together for Charlotte in a little bag. Matt wanted to have some hand in the selection of the birthday present, as is only natural, but has no ideas and doesn't want to spend any money. Great. This weekend we're going to head to the nearest Toys R Us, which is forever away, and try and figure something out.

Oh, and Charlotte is now babbling, "Ma, ma, ma!" and it almost certainly means "Mumma." She also has a long drawn out "Haaaaa," which we think is meant to be "hi!" There is a word for kitty, but it is impossible to type out. Imagine if a one year old was trying to say "tzatziki sauce."

Overtired

(Last picture in Charlotte's blue room!)


Well, we're moved. It's been a crazy week and a half since we've moved, I can barely begin to process it.

To get back to my fears from before the move, Charlotte did great with her grandmother all day. Of course, of course! she took her first steps at her grandmother's house when we weren't there. I pretty much nearly cried when Matt told me that his mom called to say, "Did Charlotte ever take six steps before?" I could get nit-picky and bitchy about a bunch of the other things that happened with his mother that day, but I'm going to try and let it go. You would also think that getting to hang out with her granddaughter all by herself for a whole day on her terms would help us all get over the birthday party drama, but no. Oh well.

Our new apartment is a little basement-y, but it's so much bigger. Or at least, it's so much easier to insert our stuff and still have room to walk around. Charlotte has a ton of space in her room, and a nice window. There is a little yippy dog that lives upstairs, and she loves to hear it bark. Everytime she hears him, she does the baby sign for "dog" and gets excited. She's very into dogs right now.

I'm too tired to post much now, but I wanted to fill in the space. We're having Dress Week redux with Charlotte this week, wearing all her dresses before the summer is totally gone and they get packed up. I also just discovered this week that Charlotte can wear barrettes in her hair now, and it's the cutest thing ever.

Well, the longer I type, the less coherent I get. So that's it for now.

All this evolution, and for what?

I am freaking out. We are moving the day after tomorrow, and I think that will be okay, in terms of getting things packed and getting the truck set up and all that. What I'm really concerned about right now is Charlotte.

I'm sort of concerned that she's going to be confused and upset that suddenly her room is not her room. 11 1/2 months is a little young to explain about moving. We have explained it to her, telling her that we're moving, and that all our stuff and us and the cats will all be in a new place, but we'll all still be together. Charlotte just blows raspberries and continues smearing beets everywhere.

The other thing just completely weighing me down is what we're going to do with Charlotte during the actual move. My mother-in-law has agreed to watch her all day, which is very helpful. Unfortunately, the plan that she proposed, and that we somehow agreed to, is that she is going to come pick up Charlotte at 8:30 am, take her to her home, 1 1/2 hours away, and watch her there until 6:30 or so, when my father-in-law gets out of work, and then drive her back. I am so nervous and uncomfortable about this.

It has very little to do with my mother-in-law actually watching Charlotte. I know that even if she doesn't agree with my parenting tactics, she does respect me (or fear me) enough not to, like, feed Charlotte peanut butter or anything. But I've been to their house, frequently, and I know that nothing is really childproofed. I'm scared Charlotte is going to hurt herself because MIL underestimates Charlotte's mobility. I'm scared that Charlotte will be so excited that she won't nap or eat, and when she gets back to her new house she'll be too freaked out to sleep. I'm worried that Charlotte's recent mom-clinginess will make her sad the whole time, and that my MIL will leave her to cry it out. I'm worried that being away all day is going to exacerbate her current separation anxiety once she's back.

Mostly, I just don't want to be that far away from Charlotte for that long.

I know there are people in our family who think I'm ridiculous about this, but Charlotte is still really little. I know other people go off and leave their 3 month old baby with family for the weekend - but that's not me. I don't think it's good for kids, and I know it isn't good for me and Charlotte. We're buds. We hang out. And she's only going to be little for such a short time - I want to take advantage of every minute.

And, of course, I am afraid that something horrible is going to happen and I won't be there with Charlotte.

I've always been a worrier, but since I've had the baby, it's gone overboard. Just anxiety over stuff that I can't help - what if a car crashes into them on the highway? What if she eats something in the garden that she's allergic to and we have no idea? What if someone drops her? What if *I* drop her? What if she dies in her sleep? Just all the shit, all the terrifying things you can think of. Every worst case scenario, horror story, blog post on Strollerderby...all of it just floats around in my head constantly. I haven't been this anxious about random shit since I was in high school and constantly lying and hiding things from my mom (smoking, boyfriends, girlfriends, self-destructive behavior) or when I was in middle school and had constant overwhelming nighttime fears(mostly about aliens and alien abductions). It's not fun to be this anxious, this vigilant. I feel like Mad-Eye Moody and Mrs. Weasley had one asingle, very nervous progeny.

I think I mostly do a good job of covering it. I am somewhat nonchalant in what I let Charlotte eat (though if it's a vegetable, it's gotta be organic). I allow her - nay, encourage her! - to crawl around on the ground and pick up dirt and grass. I let her climb around her room, and play with random stuff, as long as it isn't blatantly dangerous. My sister comes over and watches her occaisionally. Charlotte is free to explore, and I let her get small bumps so that she learns to keep her balance. But still I know I seem like the most ridiculously overprotective, overanxious parent. I guess I just still can't shake the feeling that something is going to happen to Charlotte and I'll lose her. I know it's something I need to get over. You can't worry about this all the time or you'll go nuts. I think my imagination is just a touch too vivid, and that I've read to many books. I can't stop imagining what it would feel like to lose her and what I would do.

I feel like an idiot. I know this is ridiculous, and part of being a parent, and that I should just be able to get over it. Every separation shouldn't fill me with terror. I have, for the most part, realized that a lot of this is unreasonable, and I try to calm myself down. For the most part, I do a good job, I think. I mean, I know there are others out there who are more panicked than I am. Not in person, but hey, there are blogs. It's just so hard to know what's a reasonable fear and what's an unreasonable fear. And I'm sharply aware that for some poor family every day an unreasonable fear is suddenly reasonable. I don't want to win that lottery, I dread it.


So, yeah. That's my big revelation of the week. I'm a mom, and I'm scared stiff. I feel kind of embarrassed and helpless. I can't really laugh or shrug it off. I'm just one big ball of maternal instinct, constantly locked into fight-or-flight. And you know what? It's exhausting, and I can't turn it off.

crazy train.

We are moving on Saturday. SATURDAY. Today is Monday - needless to say, it's a little crazy around here. Sleep is practically non-existent. Hopefully I'll post about that, eventually. Matt wants me to do a recap of 10-11 months, but that's gonna have to wait. For now, here's a picture from Charlotte's 11 month birthday, yesterday. Will post again when I am less crazy.