Happy Birthday, Honey Badger

Miss Margot is 6!

(I know I'm a few days late with this, but I've had the cold from hell.  Forgive me.)

This year has been such a fun one with my dearest middle child.  She started kindergarten this year, and is suddenly even more independent than before- which I did not know was possible.  She took to school like a fish takes to water.  She got on that bus the first day of school- yes, the VERY FIRST day of school- and hasn't looked back since.  She loves it, which makes me so very happy.

Although she loves school and is very bright, it is not all smooth sailing.  Her work habits leave something to be desired.  That's the nice way of saying that girlfriend is a disorganized slob.  She constantly forgets to bring home her water bottle, her papers are a crumpled mess, her bedroom is a certified disaster area.  SHE SPILLS HER DRINK EVERY SINGLE DAY.  But she is a happy-go-lucky kinda gal, and neatness just isn't something she concerns herself with.

I feel confident saying that her best friend is her sister.  Charlotte and Margot play together so well.  I think they'd be lost without each other.  They play school, they play dress-up, they pretend that they're kitties or unicorns (or better yet, uni-kitties).  They have "sister sleepovers" on the weekends.  They are truly BFF's.  Nothing could possibly make me happier.

Margot has lost some of her sass and gained some sweetness this year.  Guys, I think she likes me more than she used to.  She tells me that she misses me when she's at school!  Sometimes she cuddles with me on the couch.  I get random hugs.  She asks to do things together, just the two of us.  It's hard to carve out one-on-one time with the kids, and especially the middle child.  But when she asks to do something together, I make it happen.

Margot is funny.  She's strong.  She's smart.  She's still a beast (and if looks could kill, she'd destroy you with a glance).  She's unique.  And she's still not out to please anyone but herself.  And that's my favorite thing about her.

I can't wait to see what this next year brings for my Margot Claire, whom I adore with every ounce of my being.    

Classic Honey Badger

One of those milestones in kids lives is the first loose tooth.  I feel like most kids- especially those with older siblings- get super excited at the first sign of a wiggly tooth.  They are constantly putting their fingers in their mouths, pushing and pulling on the tooth, checking to see if maybe it moves a little bit more today than it did yesterday.  Basically, counting the days until the Tooth Fairy arrives.

Not my kid.

The other day, Margot said, with her deadpan, expressionless voice: "I used to have this tooth I could chew with, but now, it's gonna fall out."

I was so excited!  I assumed that she had just realized she has a loose tooth.  I asked her to show me.

Guys, it was barely hanging on by a thread.  That tooth had to have been loose for weeks.  She never thought it was worth mentioning!

I told her that the tooth was certainly going to fall out that day, and after thinking about it for a minute, also told her that she should be sure to tell me when that happened.

I was totally surprised when she went to bed that night, teeth still intact.

The next morning, I greeted the kids at the breakfast table.  I made the coffee, packed the lunches, and went about my morning business.  About a half hour later, Margot says "Mom!  Look what I found on the table!"

The tooth, of course.

I asked "Did your tooth just fall out?!?"

Margot says "No, it fell out in my bed."

She explained to me that she was pushing it around with her tongue, and it just fell out onto her bed.  And she brought it downstairs with her. 

And she didn't think that was immediately worth mentioning.

Honey badger just don't give a shit.

  

Like a Boss

For the past couple of years, emptying the garbage cans around the house on trash night has been Gabe's job. 

Just like any slave driver responsible mother, I start 'em young when it comes to chores.  After all, the more responsibilities they have, the fewer left for me, no?  Why else do people have children?  J is already counting the days until he never has to mow the lawn again.

I kid.  Except for the part about J never wanting to mow the lawn.  That part is totally true.  

Now that birthdays are upon us, it's time to reevaluate the chore list of each child.  Gabe is turning seven, so he can handle some higher level stuff.  And since Margot just turned five, she can take over some of Gabe's old chores.  Like the garbage.

For several weeks leading up to M's birthday, I had her help Gabe empty the trash cans.  You know, to learn the ropes.  I told her that when she turned five, she'd have to handle it without Gabe's help.

Her birthday came.  She turned five.  She became eligible for solo garbage handling.  And so I set her to work.

I was already upstairs beginning the bedtime prep when I remembered it was trash night.  I reminded Margot about her job, and she ran right downstairs to grab a garbage bag and handle it.  A few minutes later, she came running back upstairs, empty handed.

"You forgot about the upstairs trash!" I told her.

"No, I didn't!  I'm getting it!"

"Where is the garbage bag?" I asked.

Her reply killed me.  "Charlotte's bringing it up.  She holds the garbage bag while I dump the trash in."  Sure enough, here comes Charlotte, walking up the stairs, dragging a half-full garbage bag behind her.

So on the very first night that Margot was supposed to handle this particular chore on her own, she took it upon herself to delegate half of the job to her little sister.

Like a boss.

This girl is going places.

And Just Like That, She's Five

I remember the moment when I knew she was coming.

On January 12, 2013, we'd spent the afternoon at our Goddaughter's birthday party.  People kept asking when the baby was coming, to which I'd reply "tomorrow!"  I was scheduled to be induced bright and early the following morning.

Very late that night, I got up to use the bathroom.  I laid back in bed, but couldn't fall back to sleep.  I was obviously anxious, nervous, excited, scared, and all of the emotions one feels when they're about to give birth.  As I lay there, willing myself to sleep just a little longer, I felt a pop.

I thought about how funny it would be if that were my water breaking.  I didn't really know what that would feel like, since I was in the throes of intense contractions when my water broke with Gabe.  I wasn't having any contractions, I didn't feel weird, I'd just felt a pop.  The more I wondered about it, the more I thought that perhaps that's exactly what it had been.

I oh so carefully sat up, and walked to my bathroom with my thighs glued together, only moving my legs below the knees.  I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked, trying so hard to save my bedroom carpet from a mess that no one would ever want to clean up.

I made it to the bathroom. still wondering if it could be, and stood straight up over a small bathroom rug.

Definitely broken water.

I woke J up and told him what had happened.  He had been planning to wake up early and shower before we headed to the hospital the next morning, and worried that his plan had been shot.

"Go ahead and take a shower!" I told him.  "I'm going to curl my hair before we leave."  Yes, I curled my hair so as to not look like death in any post-baby photographs.  I wasn't having any contractions yet.  I was totally easy breezy about the situation.

I called the doctor and told her what had happened.  "Pop and a gush?" she asked.  "Pop and a gush," I replied.  A neighbor arrived to stay with Gabe until J's mom could get there, and off we went to the hospital.

When we arrived, I told the nurse to go ahead and get the ball rolling for the epidural.  I knew what to expect.  Labor got super hard, super fast.  The wonderful, sweet doctor who had her nice, neat induction plan thrown out the window by my impatient baby got me settled in then went home for a rest.  Labor got faster.

I will never forget the nurse, upon realizing that the baby was coming NOW, yelling out into the hall.  "Will somebody call Dr. Bonpain and tell her to STEP ON THE GAS??"

And just like that, Margot was here.  She had the most perfect bowed lips and, I kid you not, gorgeous highlights in her full head of hair.

I simply cannot fathom that all of this happened five years ago.

I look back on her birth and think about how she just couldn't follow the plan and wait for the next morning when I was to be induced.  She did it her own way.  This is just so indicitive of her personality.

Margot does was she wants, and doesn't care what anyone else thinks about it.  I don't even necessarily mean this is a bad way.  It's not like she's some terror who bucks authority and constantly causes trouble.  I used to worry that she would be exactly that, but she has proven me wrong.  She's good and kind, and almost always does the right thing.

But she's not out to impress you.  She does what makes her happy, and if that happens to make you happy as well, that's just gravy.  She's brutally honest, and will tell it to you exactly as it is.  She is positively the most self-aware being that I've ever known, able to pinpoint how she's feeling and why and what she should do about it.

Basically, Margot is what I want to be when I grow up.

My goals are to only do the things that make me happy.  To not be such a "yes girl."  To stop worrying so much about what other people think.  I've been making some progress with this, and think that I might just have it down by the time I turn 40 in a couple of years.


How wonderful for Margot that she's already got it.


Margot is the dark horse of the family.  You didn't see her coming, but here she is, coming out ahead.  And I predict big things for her future. 

Margot, my strong, beautiful, smart and wonderful daughter, I couldn't possibly love you more. 

Middle Child Syndrome

This time two years ago, I was filling out paperwork to register my first born for Kindergarten.  I was SO full of emotion.  My boy was so quiet, shy, and hesitant about everything.  He didn't take too kindly to change.  He was doing okay in preschool, until they asked him to do something that he really didn't want to do- then he would shut down.  Also, he's just a peanut.  He's a little guy!  I hated the idea that he was old enough to get on the bus and go to school for a full day, five days a week.  I felt like kindergarten was the end of a kind of innocence, and I hated that for my boy.

Now, it's Margot's turn.

Last night I downloaded the registration packet and started filling out all sixteen pages.  (Seriously, I already have a kid in the school system.  Can't they just copy and paste this shit?)  As I was filling out the pages, I was reflecting on how I felt when it was time for Gabe to start school and remembering all of those emotions.  Then I dug down deep to consider how I feel about my middle child heading off to kindergarten.

The best way I can describe my feelings is "WOOHOO!"

Poor Margot.

Don't get me wrong- it's not because I'm excited to get rid of her!  She's really turned out to be a pretty good kid, headstrong personality and all.  When she was a little younger, I was terrified of her stubborn streak and her temper.  She is strong willed, and that sometimes worked against her.  But she has reigned it in, and (usually) saves it for times when it's appropriate.

I'm mostly excited for her to go to school because she is SO ready.  This is the girl who cried every.single.day we dropped Gabe off at preschool and she wasn't allowed to stay.  She was thrilled when it was her turn to start preschool.  She skipped right in and turned around and asked me to leave.  And she is ready to skip her sassy self right onto the school bus and off to kindergarten.

I can't wait to see how she's going to progress next year.  She is already so smart, which caught me totally off guard, by the way.  Since she's been unimpressed with the world since birth, and has never once felt the need to prove herself to anyone, I wasn't expecting to get such a glowing progress report at her kindergarten readiness conference last month.  Gabe was always into letters and numbers and reading, and he showed it before the age of two.  Margot just opened her mouth one day recently and started sounding out words, shocking the hell out of us.

I am so excited to see how she's going to socialize and make friends.  She sees the older girls in the neighborhood playing, and she's ready to get in on that action.

I am thrilled to see her independence put to good use.  School is so good for her, and she's more than prepared for the next chapter.  So no tears from me this time around.
And by the way, I don't think I'll shed any tears when I drop Charlotte off at preschool, either.  Have I mentioned that I'll have three mornings a week ALL TO MYSELF?

   

Tiny Dancer

Oh, Miss Margot, how you stole everyone's hearts this past Saturday.  It was your first dance recital.

 When you and your sweet dance friends walked onto that lit up stage, we heard a collective "awwww" from the audience.  You all were just too cute for words! 

As the music started up, I saw your face searching the audience.  I was sitting in a different seat than I was at your dress rehearsal, and you couldn't find me right away.  But when you did, your smile was so big and bright!  You waved to me and I waved back, and we both smiled and smiled.

 You remembered right away that you had a dance to perform, and you did it!  You twirled and pointed your toes and held your arms up like a ballerina.  We just couldn't take our eyes off of you!  Your sister kept shouting your name.  She was so excited to see you up on that stage!

Everyone agrees, you were the star of the day!  We can't wait to watch you perform again.  

Margot: One Year Old

My precious Margot,

Today you are one year old.  I can hardly believe that an entire 365 days have passed since you came into this world.  It was such an exciting time.

The night before you were born, I told your daddy that something felt different.  I wasn't yet in labor, but somehow I knew you were coming.  And the next morning, there you were.  They handed you to me, and I fell instantly in love with my little girl.

You have so many wonderful qualities- and some that I think might get you into trouble in a few years!

You are sweet.  You give hugs and kisses.  When you see your daddy walk in the door from work, you RUN to him.  He picks you up, and you lay your head on his shoulder, hugging him with your arms.  I think that might be the best part of his day.  You, little one, have that man wrapped right around your tiny finger.  You give big open-mouthed kisses to us, and even to your baby dolls.  You try to hug and kiss and love on your brother, but he doesn't keep still enough for you to get that close.  We can see how very much you love him.  Hang in there, sweet girl.  Someday he'll realize how much you love him, and how much he loves you.  I promise, one day he'll give into those hugs, and maybe even squeeze you back.

You are so sassy.  From the time you were only a few weeks old, you let us know when you were unhappy with us.  You sometimes have an angry cry- a cry not of hunger or pain, but a cry that tells us that we've somehow wronged you.  Lately, even though you have no words, I'm pretty confident that you've started to talk back to us.  If we tell you no, you throw us an angry grunt...Right now, it's pretty hilarious.  I'm pretty sure in a year or two, it won't be so funny.  And yet I'm glad you have this sass in you.  When the time comes for you to interact with other kids, I hope you won't be bullied.  I hope you'll stand up for yourself like the strong little lady that I believe you are.

You are curious.  You have recently learned how to open cabinets, and you open them all frequently to see what's inside.  (I'll give you a hint: it's the same pots, pans, and Tupperware that were in there yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.  But carry on.  I'll pick them up and put them away, so that you can get them out again.)  If someone is reading a book or looking at a screen, you grab on and pull down so that you can see, too.  You won't be left out!  Hold onto that inquisitiveness.  You will learn so much in life.

You love to dance.  If you hear music, even if it's just a television theme song, you'll stop whatever you're doing to bounce up and down to the music.  Never stop dancing to the music, Margot, because it's a beautiful thing to see that joy in you.

My girl, my little lady- you have brought so much joy to our family.  You are everything I could have ever hoped for in a daughter.  I am so glad to call you mine.

Love you forever and always,
Mama

  

Margot: 11 Months

Better late than never...

We've been busy this holiday season, having already traveled to Ohio and back.  Forgive my tardiness!

We have almost reached the end of my girl's first year.  ELEVEN months old already.  Where have these past months scurried off to in such a hurry??

My sweet, happy girl.  She really is just one of the happiest babies.

She is ON THE MOVE.  This past month, the little lady became a walker.  One morning, J and I sat on the floor with her, and had her practice taking a few steps at a time, back and forth between us.  Apparently that was all she needed to realize she knows how to walk.  That very day, she decided that she'd walk everywhere, rather than crawl.  And now she can move at quite a clip!  She just loves it.

She thinks she's a big kid.  She wants to do everything her brother does.  She even climbs up on his little chair and tries to jump, just like he does on his bed.

She's an eater.  She pretty much has no interest in being spoon-fed.  AT. ALL.  She'd prefer to pick up her food and feed herself.  She's a fan of bread, just like her mama.  And potatoes.  And meat.  And fruit.  And vegetables.  She'll eat just about everything, as long as she can feed it to herself.  Independent, this one.

She smiles a lot.  And laughs at nothing in particular.  She hugs her daddy every night when he gets home from work.  She plays tug with the dog, and loves getting slobbery kisses.  She gives slobbery kisses.  She is just a joy.

Margot: Ten Months

My little firecracker is ten months old!

The little speedster is growing up fast.  This past month, she took her first steps.  She hasn't reached walking status quite yet, but she is taking four or five steps at a time before she plops down onto her fanny or dives onto a couch.

She adores her brother.  He can look her way and say just about anything, and she'll laugh.

She's got attitude.

She's happy and playful and sweet.

I can't wait to see more of her personality come out over the next few months.  I think I'm in for lots of fun!

Margot: Nine Months

Dear Margot,

It's very hard to believe that three-quarters of a year have passed since I brought you into this world.  I remember so well snuggling you in the hospital, crying happy tears at the arrival of my daughter.  But at the same time, I look at you now and can't believe that it's only been three-quarters of a year.  You have a full-fledged personality, you're trying desperately to walk, and you have a head FULL of hair.  So accomplished for a mere 9-months of age!

I look at you every day and think about how pretty you are.  Yes, I know I am biased.  But your strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes are just so striking.  I'm not positive where those blue eyes came from, but they sure are beautiful.

Your smile makes me smile, EVERY. TIME.  It is infectious.  People can't help but giggle when they see your silly face, ALWAYS with the tongue out.

You are so strong willed.  You are on your feet, standing alone, cruising along furniture, and even letting go to transfer from one piece of furniture to the next with a little step.  Your daddy says that this is the month when you'll learn to walk.  Time will tell, but I believe that if you want to do it, you're going to do it.  And believe me, you want to grow up.  You have pretty much no use for pureed food anymore- you want to chew.  You want to walk.  And you want to talk.  I have watched you imitate my sounds, watching my mouth move with such concentration.  You are learning to wave.  You will your fingers to open and close like Daddy's do when he waves to you.

Margot Claire, my little lady.  I love you.

Love,
Mama

Margot: 8 Months

Oh, silly Miss Margot.  You are just awesome.

My little lady's personality is really starting to shine through these days.  And lemme tell ya', I think we may be in trouble.  She's a little spitfire.

This month, movement is the name of the game.  Ain't nothin' gonna hold this girl down.  She really just wants to walk.  After all, she's got a big brother to keep up with.  She's pulling up on everything, and sometimes even letting go to just stand.

She's also got quite a loud mouth, and she's not afraid to use it.  Especially if she's upset with you.

She's pretty, and she knows it.

She's social, she's playful, she's curious, she's a bit of a drama queen.  I have a feeling she's turning out to be all girl.  And I can't wait to find out.