One Trick--No--Make That a NO Trick Pony

Dearest Sammie,

What’s up with the learning-a-new-trick-dropping-the-old-trick-thing? Your first trick, raising your hands on cue to “sooo big” was replaced with waving good bye and hello. Waving lasted until you figured out that you could stick out your tongue when we asked you what a snake does. Now, you’re clapping and refuse to show us what a snake does anymore.

Nuts. The snake thing was a particularly fun thing to show friends and family at get-togethers. Clapping’s alright, I guess…but not nearly as fun. Good thing you still remembered how to eat once you figured out how to use a sippy cup, because that could’ve created all sorts of problems.

The highlights of your day continue to be breakfast, lunch and dinner time. If we don’t feed you fast enough, you start to grunt for more. If whatever’s on the tray isn’t what you want, you delicately pick up the morsel of food and deliberately drop it on the floor.

Fortunately, I don’t have to worry about the food dropping too much because the dogs have figured out that baby + dinner = table scraps for dogs; they’re never more than two feet away from the high chair during meal time. Unfortunately, you’ve figured this out and find it quite fun to lean over and feed Roxy a Cheerio or two. Fortunately, Maynerd doesn’t mind being left out—he just hops on my chair after I’ve gotten you out and cleans up whatever food you may have accidentally dropped on the high chair seat. Unfortunately, the dogs weren’t around last Friday night when Nonni & Poppa took you out to eat and you proceeded to put EVERYTHING on the restaurant’s floor.

Loving you lots,
your mamma

11 down, 1 to go

Dearest Sammie Girl,

We’ve made it. We’re in the home stretch. Only one more month to go until your father and I can look at each other, breathe a sigh of relief, and say “we did it—we kept an infant happy and healthy for a full year, now the hard part is over and we can just sit back and relax.”

*Okay…the cyber moms and dads of the world can stop laughing at any time now…really…you can STOP laughing and pointing your fingers at the computer screen…I know that it only gets harder from here. Kind of. We’ll see what the next seventeen years entail.*

I’ve spent much of the past few months planning/obsessing over your first birthday party, and so far, all I’ve got to show for it is a pile of plates and napkins in the spare room and the relief of having the invitations completed and in the mail. We’re going for the Sesame Street theme. You probably could care less, we could do the Dirt and Boogers theme for all you care at the moment, but I’d hate for you to have to look at your baby book** some day and see that the party consisted of nothing more than Dirt and Boogers.

So we’re continuing with the Sesame Street theme, and I’m hoping that the piece de resistance will be the four-tiered cake I’ve been mentally dreaming up for the past several weeks. Your Auntie Tamara is helping me, and I don’t want to give too too much away, but let’s just say it involves feathers, fur, and an edible bird’s nest. We’ve also had several *practice* runs that involve you eating cake, and I don’t think you’re going to be one of those one year olds whose parents have to prod them to eat the deliciousness in front of them. You’ve yet to meet a cake you don’t like. All I have to do is figure out how to distract you from the cake once you’ve eaten your fill, lest you get a case of the “Sammies” and turn on the waterworks when we try to take it away before you get a case of the “Ralphies.”

Enough about what will be…let’s chat for a moment about what IS. Namely, let’s chat about your tongue. More specifically, you like to stick it out at people. This is funny when said people know what you’re doing (which is showing the world what the snake does). It’s not so funny when random strangers think we’ve taught our eleven month old to be rude and stick her tongue out at them.

Fortunately, this past weekend’s guests (my former college roommate, Lisa, and her husband, Dave) knew that you were doing your snake impression, and didn’t shun us as parents. Rather, they joined in on the action:



While Lisa & Dave were here, Dave had fun with his super-fancy-camera-that-is-on-my-list-of-things-to-buy-when-we’re-super-rich-but-we’ll-never-be-super-rich-so-I’ll-probably-never-own-said-camera. I even managed to sweet talk him into taking a picture of us by the front door.



This may not seem like such a big deal—we weren’t even really able to get you to look at the camera and smile—but this picture is the LAST of the pictures I needed to finish the A-Z book I had started for you before we were even matched with your birthmom. It represents “H is for Home.” It was supposed to be a relatively easy project, but getting all of the pictures necessary proved to be more difficult than I had previously planned. So, it’s with great acclaim that I can say that I finished at least something** to represent your first year as a Vogt.

In other news, while you’re still not pulling yourself up to a standing position, you are able to STAY standing when I put you next to a piece of furniture you can hold on to. Standing has proven to be quite fun for you, especially when I showed you that you can make noise by banging on the top of the coffee table.

Yeah, I may regret that some day.

Happy Eleven Months, Darling!

Loving you, my spunky little girl,
Your mama

**Yeah, about that baby book…I’m still not done beyond the first few hours in the hospital—still hoping that ONE DAY I’ll have the time to scrapbook your first year like I’d like to. Any hopes for getting time to scrapbook over spring break were brushed aside in my efforts to get your birthday invitations done and in the mail. Maybe over the summer…yeah, right. Who am I kidding? That’s not going to happen, either.

Sign of the Times

Dearest Sammie Girl,

You, my darling, have exploded with developments in this past week. For the past several weeks, you've been creep/crawling and stopping to do what can only be described as the half sit/half lounge positition (really, it makes you look like some sort of bikini model--if bikini models had Buddha bellies and diapers). I half-seriously wondered if we'd have to give you intense sitting lessons lest you not pick it up naturally in the call of the wild/living room.

That changed a few days ago, Sammie dear, when you took the time from your daily creep/crawl/lounge lizard act to sit up. On your own. Several times. Whew. I guess we won't half to follow you to college so we can place you in a sitting position now--because you're doing that on your own now, thankyouverymuch.

You've also taken to learning new things to keep us amused. Previously, you were a two trick baby (raising your hands on cue to "sooo big" and giving somewhat reluctant high fives). Now, you can wave hello and good-bye on command (usually when the person's left the room--but better late than never), you stick out your tongue when we ask what the snake does, and you're using sign language during meal times.

I'm particularly excited about the sign language thing. I'm partially deaf, and if I don't teach sign language to my baby, the deaf community will take away my deaf card. Frankly, being deaf is the one conversation starter I've got left, so I needed to do whatever possible to keep the deaf card active.

I always said I'd sign non-stop to my children when I became a mom. Then I became a mom and reality/laziness hit. I started off with the best intentions, signing constantly, but then life got in the way and I just started talking instead of signing, even though you were already showing progress at six months by signing "bottle" to us. Guilt eventually got the best of me last month, and I took up signing with you again, focusing especially on "more" and "eat."

This past weekend, your short deaf wonder mama's chest swelled with pride when you first signed "eat" while I fed you your breakfast. A few minutes later came "more" when your daily dose of Cheerios ran out. Since then, you've signed these words on a number of occasions; apparently you're a Pavlov baby because food is one the thing that's conditioning you to use sign language as a means of communication. Yeah, baby!

I'm going to *try* to keep it up by adding a few more signs to our daily vocabulary: sleep, dog, mom, dad, book and no should keep us busy for the next few weeks. Hopefully it'll be enough to not bring shame to the deaf community.

In other news that's hardly news, we had a rather chaotic weekend, darling girl. The women on Nonni's side of the family thought it would be a lovely idea to get together for a weekend in the mountains.

And it was lovely...until nighttime, when certain babies refused to go to sleep. You--who has slept through the night since you were a mere few weeks old--stayed up until well past midnight and then woke up, inconsolable, every other hour for eight straight hours. So...I accidentally slept in past breakfast. Crankiness ensued all the way around, crankiness that didn't subside until you were down for a nap and I had a special beverage along with my lunch.

At least we got some pictures out of the deal:

With Nonni:


With Aunt Diane's *adorable* puppy:


Four generations of Willis Women:


With your cousins:


Sporting "half pint" and "full pint" shirts:


...and finally, on the way home:


I love you Sammie--even as you're screaming out your refusal to nap as you are right now, I love you,

your mama

PS. Got the pictures back from the Pullen Photo Shoot last weekend. What's up with the turtle face you're sporting in some of these pictures?









and lastly, my favorite:

Happy Happy Joy Scream

Dear Sammie,

While I'm on spring break (and pretending that I'm a stay at home mom), I've had the pleasure of taking you out and about as I run errands. Each and EVERY time, we get stopped by people who simply MUST tell us at that very moment that they've never seen a HAPPIER baby. I usually respond by smiling proudly at you, making some cute/gag-me-with-a-spoon-cheesy-fake-mom-voice-comment...and jetting out of there before the aforementioned passerby figures out that you aren't always that happy.

Yesterday, while I had you in the shopping cart at Costco, we were stopped by a former co-worker of mine. You were VERY happy/borderline ridiculously cheerful, so I was feeling a little too good about chatting for longer than ten seconds. Here's the play by play:

Me: Hi *former co worker of mine* (FCWOM)
FCWOM: Hi, Sar--WHAT AN ADORABLE BABY!
Sammie: *giggle, giggle, lean pigtailed head on mommy's chest to up the cuteness ante*
FCWOM: I've never seen a more happy baby!
Me: (looking at you) Tell the nice woman thank you! Tell her thank you! You are a cutie little baby, aren't you? Yes, you're so happy! (looking back at FCWOM) We're really lucky, she's a very happy baby.
Sammie: *sit straight up and look at mommy, clasping hands and grinning to show your two new pearly whites*
FCWOM: Seriously, she is so cute!
Me: Yes, she's so fun. Her name's Samantha.
Sammie:*doing the shy smile trick thing again for more attention*
FCWOM: So...are you still teaching at Central?
---fifteen minutes later---
FCWOM: I'm so glad I got out of there when I did.
Me: Yeah, I'll be there until I die. But at least I really like the kids.
Sammie: *smile smile. wipe eyes, decide that you want a bottle* WAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

FCWOM: Wow she changed moods quickly.
Me: Yes...it's a bit Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde. Have a great week! (Run to make a beeline to the shortest line while avoiding eye contact with FCWOM)
Sammie: *look over my shoulder at FCWOM to resume the grinning position*
---two minutes later, in line---
FCWOM: (Pulling cart behind mine) I guess I'll get to spend a few more minutes with Samantha while we wait in line!
Sammie: *realize you still don't have previously thought of bottle* WAAAAAAAAAAUGGGGGGGGGGH!!!!!! AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHCKKKKKKKK!!!!!! WANYH-WANYH-WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
FCWOM: She turns the tears on fast!
Me: Yeah, she does that. *Nervous chuckle*
---five minutes later, paying for my purchases---
Me: (Yelling to be heard over the screams) See you later, FCWOM! Have a great week...again! (Mad dash to the exit)
Sammie: *smile, smile, grin*


I think in future years people will refer to similar mad mood shifts as "The Sammie." I think it'll play out like this:



Guy #1: So I went on this date the other night, with this really cool girl. Started out great, she was all fun and smiles. Then I mentioned my ex-girlfriend's name and she totally pulled a "Sammie" on me.

Guy #2: Yeah, better watch out for those mad mood shifts. Once they pull "The Sammie" on you, you just never know when it's going to come back again.



Or something like that.



In other news, we had a crazy busy weekend. It started off on Saturday, with the Pullen side of the family trekking down to Visalia to take some artsy family pictures. Your Poppa had promised Nonni TWO YEARS ago that he'd get family pictures taken for her for mother's day. Then came pregnancy/plans of adoption, then came baby, and baby again, then came the "let's wait until the babies can sit..."



Finally, your cousin started sitting a month ago, and Poppa had run out of excuses, so we booked a session with the same photographer who's been shooting your professional baby pictures. Nonni even bought you and Ben coordinating blue and yellow outfits, and made the rest of us wear clothes to match the two of you.



The photo shoot took place in a field/oak preserve, and it was freakin' cold. Which is a bummer when the usually-prepared-mommy forgets to bring a sweater for her baby girl who's wearing a sleeveless dress. Fortunately, you turned on the grins as soon as the camera came out. Whenever you weren't in a shot, we had you wrapped in a blanket and Nonni's sweater. I think the pictures will come out okay, but I won't know for sure until we see them for ourselves on Friday. I was hoping to get a good picture with the three of us, and I *think* we succeeded in getting at least one halfway decent shot. Anywho, we capped off the day by going to dinner and giving you spaghetti for the first time.



Um, I think you like spaghetti.

The next day was your very first Easter. You started the morning off by perusing what the Easter Bunny brought you in your Easter basket (plastic eggs, some with cheerios, some little toys, some just empty).







The Easter basket kept you entertained for quite a long time when Daddy's side of the family came over that afternoon. Uncle Tom got at least fifteen hours worth of footage out of you exclaiming over each and every egg as you pulled it out of your basket.

I managed to finagle you away from your admirers long enough to get some pictures of you outside with your basket (again, it was super cold--seriously the coldest Easter I can remember in a loooong time). Fortunately, you saw the camera and gave me a few good shots.





After a too-quick afternoon nap, we shuttled ourselves off to Nonni & Poppa's for Easter #2. You and Ben seemed to hit it off. Literally. You sat there and hit each other on the head with your Easter eggs. I channeled Uncle Tom and took a bazillion pictures. Bummer that all of the sixty something pictures are blurry.






Love you, my Sammie Girl,

your mommy