tin!

To garner the full effect of the title, I suggest you read with a southern accent. For those who simply cannot be bothered with that, I'm referring to the number 10.

10 months ago Sydney Mae made her debut. Here's the latest and greatest:

First hike!

i don't love that when she was a month old, i thought that her monthly pics in her WHITE onesies should be taken on her WHITE chair. ugh. fail. 

we love this picture as it captures 10 months appropriately. where making her do anything she doesn't want to do is de.va.stat.ing. clearly. 

And she stands! Homegirl is pulling herself up all on her own. This is her favorite move.

with babies, when they outgrow their pants? they just transition to capris. brill.

dancin' in her seat!

such a lil' mover. we have no clue where this face came from but agree that it's pretty cute.

winds of change

A few nights ago I grabbed drinks with a few of my "PEPs" friends and had a really great time. I've known these women for less than a year and yet, we have so much in common and connect as if we've known each other all our lives. It's surprising to me, as I regularly joke that I dislike approximately 98% of the people I meet, so to genuinely like at least 6 other "new" women and consider them friends is a big deal.
An interesting change has occurred in my friendships. I'm typically pretty selective of those I consider my friends and put an enormous amount of stock in my relationships. Prior to having Sydney, I consistently heard how much a child changes your life, and to be frank, it scared the shit out of me. I wasn't ready for my life to change as everyone said it would. In fact, I didn't believe them. Sweet denial... That is, until recently.
As of late, I've been acutely aware of the dramatic shift that takes place when having a child. My single/child-less friends simply don't understand. Not to be one of those moms, but truly, no kids = no idea. But how could one possibly understand the change that takes place once a child is brought into your life? They cannot. Plain and simple. Not right, not wrong, but real. I had no clue before our little Peanut. And with that, I'm finding myself in the most interesting position. Part of me mourns the friendships I had with some, while the other part realistically acknowledges the differences of our lives at this stage and simply accepts it with a nod. We'll all catch up one day, won't we? It's so funny, how life works itself out. I can't help but think that it's one friend in, another friend out. That may sound harsh, which is not my intent, but there is some truth to that. Of course I have dear friends who don't have children and to whom I will always be close, regardless of our place in life,  and whom none of this applies. But for the others, our lives are truly different and our friendships have changed. And that's life, now, isn't it? People enter in and out of our lives for so many reasons, all of them with a purpose. I cherish the friendships I've had, the ones that continue to grow with me and those that are just beginning.

did I catch a niner in there?

What are you calling from, a walkie talkie? Name that movie (hint: fat guy in a little coat). 

                           

So we celebrated Sydney's 9 month birthday a few weeks ago, which means she's 3/4 of the way through her first year. Haha. It's laughable, really. Parental cliche- time truly does haul it's little ass through our lives, doesn't it?

At her 9 month appointment, she was tipping the scales at 19lbs which puts her in the 75th percentile, 28" tall 76 percentile and head circumference of something or other that lands her in the 52 percentile. As you can tell, the whole head circumference is not high on my priority list. All in all, our little peanut is doing great! Her doctor eased my fears about her not crawling quite yet, and reassured me that "all kids develop at their own pace." Sure, sure, but when's she going to crawl already?! She was never one who took to the whole rolling or army crawl or any other mode of transportation. What if her legs don't work? What if her arms are too short (I don't know how that would ever be a valid concern)? WHAT IF? Ahhh and now I'm playing right, smack dab in the middle of the parent game. Worry, fear, anxiety, hooray. But alas, last Thursday (June 27th) we saw movement! One arm, then one leg, then another arm and another leg! The crawling motion happened. Fast forward 5 days and we have one mobile little lady. What an incredible thing it is, being able to watch your children learn such monumental developmental milestones. Watching their wheels turning, learning to trust in themselves and take action. It's incredible, really. And bittersweet. As with all of Sydney's milestones, there is always a tiny pang of melancholy that accompanies the joy and excitement. My baby is growing up. Tear.

The other day I was talking with a friend at work about her child, asking how he was doing and all I got from her was "good, he's doing really well." And I immediately went to "Of course, everything is perfect, perfect, perfect. Mom's never divulge the TRUTH. lies, perfect little lies." But then I thought about my own response when anyone asks about Sydney and it goes something like this "great, really, really great. she's pretty awesome." And I realized, that's truth. I'm absolutely telling the truth, because it is great. She is wonderful and we think she's pretty awesome. Sure there are the fussy moments, the tiring moments, the frustrating moments, but that's all they really are. Moments. They are part of the experience but just a tiny part. When I think of Sydney and being a parent, there is an automatic, rose-colored filter put on life. How could things not be great? Those other mom's aren't lying to try to beat me in some non-existent one-upping, who's got the better baby game (well maybe one or two are), but rather they're trying to find an ordinary word to describe the...uh-oh...here I go, I'm going to say it...extraordinary experience all of us parents understand.

And that? Is one girl's travel from a cynical, eye rolling single gal to emotional, sappy mess of a parent. 

 Because really, how could this not melt even the hardest of hards?