PS We Love You

Dear Samantha Joy,

This past Sunday, your father and I set out to do what millions of couples across the country did: go out on a date for Valentine's Day. The downside to millions of couples going out at the same time (aside from the obvious insanely long wait for tables in restaurants) is that finding family members to babysit becomes increasingly difficult as they are going out on dates of their own. So, after mildly panicking last week, I turned to the next best thing: a real live babysitter.

I met Breanna last year when she was in my theatre 1 class, but I really got to know her this year when she was cast, appropriately enough, as Annie. I had heard through the grapevine that she is The World's Most Perfect Babysitter (TWMPB)at her own church, so I crossed my fingers and said a prayer that she'd be available on what is surely the most difficult day of the year to find childcare. Fortunately for all involved, she was...so operation babysitter was on.

As I was the babysitter in demand at my church growing up, I knew a thing or two to do to keep TWMPB happy, so therefore the first step of Operation Babysitter was to make sure that our pantry was full of yummy snacks (Cheez-Its and Oreos) and that our house was in relatively decent condition.

The second step of Operation Babysitter was to compose a detailed contact list and Sammie information sheet (about feeding, sleeping, etc) so that she would have something to refer to throughout the night and keep you a relatively happy camper, as well as writing up how to work our overly complicated TV set up to keep TWMPB a happy camper, as well. An hour later, I was moving on to step three: trying desperately to install our printer and get it synched with my laptop. Step four came an hour later: cursing at the machine and threatening to throw the printer out the window as I gave up on the aforementioned list and settled for a much-less pretty scrap of paper with the bare minimum of necessary contact information.

Step five was making sure that you had had a decent naptime (that deserved a half of a check because the naptime came far too late and was a little too short for both of our liking). Step six was getting food ready to go so that TWMPB could feed you as we left and thus become your BFF in a matter of minutes.

Operation Babysitter had been completed with literally seconds to spare when the doorbell rang. TWMPB went right to where you were playing on the floor, and I tried to explain how to work the TV (I soooo lost mom points there, taking more time to explain how to work the TV than how to work the child). Just before we walked out the door and she sat down to feed you, I snapped this picture of history in the making:


The 'HUH?' look you're sporting can be attributed to the lack of sleep and pure confusion as to what to do with all of the attention TWMPB has already poured upon you.

The evening went on without a hitch. Your dad and I had a great time on our group date with Jeff and Tamara & Brad and Ashlea, and when I texted TWMPB to let her know that we had ordered and that we should be home in a few hours, TWMPB rose to the level of TUMPB (The Universe's Most Perfect Babysitter) by responding with a picture text of the two of you playing dress up with your tutu and grinning from ear to ear. TUMPV kept you a happy camper up until a few minutes before we got home (your mom-dar must've gone off because somehow you sensed that it was almost time for us to be home). As soon as we walked into the door, your face broke out into an ear to ear grin and happy camper-dom resumed its normally scheduled programming.

In non-babysitting related news, you received more valentines than your father and I combined this year. Your very first valentine was a handmade one from your Great Grandma and Grandpa Pat, but you also raked in a light-up bear from Grandma Max and Grandpa Mike as well as a gift card to a bookstore from Nonni and Poppa. Speaking of books, being read to remains among your favorite things to do (seriously, you have an amazing attention span for an almost nine month old--you pay attentino to things longer than I do sometimes!).

Developmentally, you're still rolling all over the place, and while I may have half-joked about needing to babyproof the house last week, I'm not kidding anymore. Three times this afternoon I had to get you away from the pile of junk by the recliner that I've dubbed Mt. Saint Daddy (it's tons of scraps of paper and shipping stuff and just general stuff).

I should also mention that you've got quite the sense of humor and get quite the kick out of making me laugh. Lately, you've been cracking me up by blowing spittle all over the place as you blow raspberries at anyone who will look at you:



That picture is worth a million words. But, so's this one:



Have you EVER seen a baby that happy or that cute?!?!

Lovin you forever and ever my funny and cute little valentine,
your mama

On a Roll

Dearest Sammie,

While I've got my students rockin' and rollin' in the production of Annie, you're doing some rolling of your own...all around the room, that is.

It started last Thursday, with you figuring out what to do with that blasted arm that always got in your way when you tried to roll back to front. By Saturday, you realized that if you roll over continuously, you're able to get places. As in, you no longer stay seated on your blanket anymore, content with whatever's in front of you; there's a whole world/house to explore and you're not wasting anytime discovering it.

Gulp. Let the baby proofing begin!

In the meantime, Annie is aaaa-lmost over. Six shows down, two to go. As of this time Saturday afternoon, I'm a free mama again. And I can't wait.

Of course, I did take some time away from taking pictures of the show to get a few of you and the cast:

(we're smack dab in the middle)


Here's another one with you trying on the Annie wig for size:


...and here the two of us are, hanging out in the theatre while the students changed:


Of course, I had a little bit of help getting your attention for the picture while your father snapped away with the camera:


It's been a bit hectic this past month with the show and all, but truthfully, I'm going to miss these guys when the show's over. These were the students who sang "Sammie, Sammie" to you and ooh'd and aaah'd over you whenver you joined us in rehearsal. They cheered for you when your adoption was finalized and made silly faces whenever you fussed. You may not realize it now (I wouldn't expect you to at 8 months of age, anyway), but you've captured the hearts of over 40 high school kids. Not bad, kiddo!

Loving you forever, my little pearl (line from the show),

Your mama

PS. The other night, after the show, you waited up for me and refused to go to bed until I got home. I walked in the door, picked you up, and gave you a bottle in your darkened nursery. Once you were finished, you fell asleep in my arms in a matter of seconds (literally). I held your snoring little body in my arms for a good twenty minutes, smiling from ear to ear the whole time. Truly the best parenting moment to date!

PPS. Valentine's Day is coming up and we haven't been able to find someone in the family who's not celebrating with their own significant other, so you're going to have your first "real" baby sitter ever: Breanna, the girl who's playing Annie! Pictures to come soon...

Annie is HERE!

Dearest Sammie,

Because being a new mom wasn't enough, I decided to go all kinds of crazy this year and produce the school's biggest show to date: Annie. I'll be the first to admit it: doing a MAJ-AH show with a HUUUGE cast and an insane list of costumes and props WITH animals and children was not my brightest moment.

As a result of this unfortunate timing choice, I've spent the past three weeks *living* in the school's theatre and trying to get the cast and crew up to snuff in time for opening night. While there were times that the rehearsals actually scared me a bit and made me wonder whether Annie would be the one production that didn't meet our expectations, I can honestly say that when the curtains opened last night, we had a good show.

Of course, you were with us every step of the way. The students saw how excited I was when we finalized your adoption in December and transferred those feelings into the show when Annie's adoption is finalized. When you came to rehearsals, as I mentioned earlier, they sang to you. Last night, when Warbucks and Annie sang about how something was missing in their lives before they met each other, I found myself getting a little teary eyed thinking about how *you* were the something that was missing in mine and daddy's life.

I'd break out into cyber song but frankly, even my cyber singing is bad so I'll refrain.

What I will leave you with are these lovely mother-daughter pictures from after the schools' rallies last week. Yes, darlin, we ARE sporting matching show shirts...because that's how we roll around here.








...and of course, you hammed it up a little bit by showing us your old man face:



Love you lots my little Sammie,
your mommy

She TALKS!

Dearest Sammie,

Forget the nonsensical chitter-chatter that you've been spewing out (much to our delight) these past few months: you're using words. Well, more specifically, you're using a word: "Mamma."

You said it for the first time last Friday (January 22) as I changed your diaper. I've been campaigning for your first word to be "Mamma" by saying it constantly whenever we get to spend time together. So, there I was, changing your diaper repeating "mamamamamama" over and over again, and you looked at me square in the eye and said "Ma-ma."

I wasn't sure if I was hearing things, so I repeated my stream of mamas and waited for you to do a repeat performance...and you did!

Ok, so your father is fully convinced that you're either saying "La la" or "Na na" but you and I both know what you're saying, and there's no two buts about it: it's "Mama." Each time you look at me (and the dog, the chair, the fan, the book, the dad) and say "Mama" my heart gets a little bigger and I squeal a little louder.

Love ya darlin,

Your MAMA

2/3 of the way to a Year: 8 Months!

Dearest Sammie,

As of this morning, you traded in being a wee lil' seven month old for being a not-so-wee eight month old. Daddy celebrated the momentous occasion with you by taking you to Denny's so the two of you could share a Grand Slam. Apparently, the hash browns and pancakes were a hit and you partook in quite a few nibbles in between squeals of glee.

Speaking of squeals, you've found your voice. As in, yelling and exclaiming joy at the top of your lungs ranks among your new favorite things to do. This is particularly amusing when you combine it with your own version of "singing," which you're apt to do whenever the radio's on in the car or you find a toy particularly exciting.

The one thing that's not your favorite thing to do hasn't changed since you were two months old: the dreaded tummy time. Apparently, when the doctors-that-be put their heads together and told all parents that putting babies down on their back was best for sleeping, they neglected to take into consideration that they'd created a new monster in the millions of mothers now pulling their hair out because their babies are refusing to lay stomach down for playtime. Regardless, I continue to put you down because I'm sensing that another milestone is around the corner: crawling. So far, we've made progress in the daily tummy time ritual...if you consider progress not immediately rolling over onto your back.

While my hair may be getting thinner as I pull it out in anxiety, your wavy locks continue to get thicker and longer. From the time you were born, one of the first things people said (after "how cute she is!") was "look at all that hair!" Secretly, I've been hoping that your hair would continue to grow longer so that you'd be modeling pigtails by your first birthday. I didn't think we'd be able to reach this personal (and totally nonsensical) goal when your crowning glory started to be less---um---full of glory four months ago. As you started to spend more time sitting up and not lying on your back, the bald spot on the back of your head filled in while the hair on the top and front continued to get longer and longer.

So long, that last Friday I dared to do what I'd been wanting to do for the past eight months: I parted your hair down the middle and put two pigtails on either side of your head...four months ahead of schedule! Granted, it'll take a while for the back of your hair to grow long enough to go in the rubber bands and the hair that does make it to the rubber bands is rather, um, "spiky," but cuteness can still be found in spades:



I've got this picture as my desktop on my school computer now. All day long, when I've got a moment, I stare at it and think of just what a gosh-darned cute, loud, and spunky baby you are.

Loving you more and more,
your mommy

Thursday (Lack of) Update

Dearest Sammie,

Well, darlin, it's Thursday, which means I should be writing about all things Sammie right about now...but that's not going to happen.

Super-working-mother-teacher I am not. After spending three glorious weeks at home with you, simply going back to school and getting right into the swing of directing Annie (which opens in less than three weeks, thankyouverymuch) has been enough to render me just about unconcious each night.

Fortunately, my darling daughter, there weren't a whole lot of exciting things that happened this week so I'm not feeling overly guilty for skimping on this week's post. I mean, you did finally manage to kick that nasty diaper rash thanks to copious amounts of the miracle product "Butt Paste," (sidenote: Butt Paste is your friend--peaches and mangos are not your friend). So...as I doubt you want me to wax on nostalgically about your red behind (or lack thereof, as it stands right now), I'm going to sign off of this computer and do what I've been dreaming about since six o clock this morning: sleep.

Loving you copious amounts,
your mommy


PS. Forgot something: you also learned to give "high fives" (which, when coupled with me giving you a little tickle on your tummy is enough to send you into giggling kiniption fits that last for days)

Our Christmas Break (Cliff's Notes Edition)

Dear Sammie,

As my Christmas break wraps up and I try to be superwoman and try to get everything done at once, it dawned on me: I *almost* forgot to post your weekly update today. Whoopsie-doodle! I suspect that you're going to wake up from your nap soon, so here's the quick cliff's notes version of the past few weeks:

The first week of the break was all about Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. We celebrated until we couldn't celebrate anymore.

The second week of the break was all about the sleeping and being lazy. Fortunately, we're both good at doing these things, because we managed to make staying up and sleeping in late an art form.

The third (and final) week of the break has been about getting all of the things done that was supposed to get done over the course of the three weeks. It's been a challenge, but we've been able to organize closets, visit with friends, celebrate our 6th anniversary, make baby food, scrapbook, and cook gazillions of meals to freeze for future use. I say "we" because you've been a champ through it all while I accomplished these super-mom like tasks.

On the developmental front, you're still refusing to crawl. I've tried putting you on your stomach and placing toys within crawling distance, but that hasn't done a whole lot of good. All you're doing is getting frustrated and rolling back onto your back. Fortunately for you, you're pretty good at sitting and reaching for whatever strikes your fancy.

On the tooth front, you're still all gums. I've stopped saying that you're teething (which I've been saying since August, admitedly) because teeth have yet to appear. Every morning I check, and every morning you look at me like I'm a nutjob for sticking my finger in your mouth.

On the food front, you're still eating whatever's put in front of you, and are making strides toward becoming the independant girl that I know you're going to be. The latest? Getting those cereal things into your mouth with pretty impressive precision. The downside of this is that you've developed sweet gums (I can't say sweet tooth because you don't have any teeth yet) and are demanding them quite regularly.

Well, darling, that's the report--for now, at least. In the time that I've written this, you've woken up from your nap (daddy got you up) and are now whimpering/blabbering/squealing as he tries to get your food and his food ready at the same time. I want to tell him that it isn't going to work, but I'm rather anxious to see how he balances feeding both you and him at the same time.

Loving you more than you love your cereal things,
your mommy