Spring Hats and Ruffle Skirts

Everything about this get-up makes me smile.

We are with friends, headed to the children's museum in Raleigh.

It's a beautiful day

with my beautiful girl.

Almost Two

Dear Ruby,

Photographing you has become a challenge of monumental proportions. As soon as you spot the camera, you want it. "See more babies!" you shout. "See more Rubies!" And then quick, the camera is put away and we move on to other things.

Last night you really wanted to hold the camera and push buttons. You really, really wanted to. You cried for fifteen minutes straight, the big, hiccupping kind and so earnestly told me what you wanted, and I, just as earnestly and very gently told you that cameras aren't for babies. Let's do something else!

It didn't work, of course. But you did finally let me hold you and rub your back and you let it go. You're almost two and darlin', it shows."Ruby do it!" is something you say all the time. You also say "Hi Baby" to me and Dada all the time. The other morning, you woke up and touched Dada's face and said "Hi, baby. Nice to see you." That's some sweetness right there.

You are turning out to be very good company. One thing we do a lot of is go to the grocery store, the nice one with the scones. We shop for dinner, we buy some scones, and sit outside to snack and people-watch. It's a slow moment in our busy days. This is new, this glimpse into companionship. And it's so so good.

I'm filled with love for you, my little Rubles. Even when you push my buttons.

love,
Mama

Gingerbread Babies

Well. The computer is telling me I'm out of disc space something something, blah blah, so I'm not able to upload our most recent pictures.

These oldies but goodies will have to do.

This is pre-Christmas gingerbread baking. Ruby is into it.

A fully formed gingerbread man. We are pleased.

Still pleased. And now calling him her "babydoll". Much rocking and loving ensues.

Tragedy strikes. Could it have been prevented? We ask ourselves that question to this day.

(Lots of "Fix it, mama!" requests. Sadly, I am not a gingerbread miracle worker. Ruby's road to disillusionment begins in earnest.)

Happy Birthday, Aunt Patty!

Happy Birthday, Aunt Patty! We hope you have a fabulous day off grilled cheese, playgrounds and baby-sightings!

Now, scoot. I've got big and important work to do.

love,

Ruby

Counting

Ruby and Isabel

How does she know twelve? That's the part that keeps me up nights.

Toddlers Be Crazy: A Glimpse Into Bedtime

Pillows! Pillows! Here are the pillows! No! Don't touch the pillows! They stay here! They shouldn't be here! Where should they be? Not here! Dada's pillow. Mama's pillow. Baby's pillow. Did you just touch that pillow?! What did I say about that? ARE YOU DEAF, WOMAN?

Now I'll stack the pillows! The pillows are in a pile! Did you look at these pillows? No! No!

YOU WILL LAY YOUR HEAD ON THE BARE MATTRESS AND YOU WILL LIKE IT.

Now let's snuggle.

Num num!

She pretends now. I think it started about a month ago. A favorite is to put a little baby doll in my shoe and say, "Sit. Mama's shoe. Sit. Okay!"

Also, she likes to feed the animals.

Halloween the Second

Ruby was a cowgirl, but we wanted her to be a robot. We made her a robot costume with lights on the front that changed color. Lights!

But she was terrified of it. So cowgirl it was.

She even had a horse. She refused to wear the hat or carry the horse. Both of which are kind of necessary to the whole cowgirl success of the costume.

Slowly I lower the hat.

Slowly she crumples to the ground.

A fun night was had by all.

beans

Vote

As some of you know, Ruby is having a (free!) photo shoot, probably this weekend. It will be outside.

So. Which dress? I can't decide.

Deja Tom

Remind you of anyone?

Some Things Get Easier

Ruby, as you get older, some things get easier.

For example, when we're going somewhere, I can just open the door and let you out. You are very good at doing the steps by yourself. I only need to remind you "On your bum!" once, and then you're there, on your bum.

I probably don't even need to remind you. Pretty soon you'll be rolling your eyes at me about the whole "on your bum" thing.

I can't believe how much of a help it is that you can do this, though. So much of motherhood is schlepping. Thanks for carrying your weight. FINALLY and LITERALLY.

You think it's pretty cool, too.

Then, get this, you can even walk to the car by yourself. With me close by, of course.

These are some of the pros of toddlerhood. Cuteness pads the pro side, yes it does.

Another Hat

Dear Ruby,

Sorry for the lack of posts. You have continued to be beautiful and brilliant and newsworthy, but it's been a sad summer and my heart hasn't been in it. We'll try to make our way out of it, ok?

In the meantime, enjoy this Mama Hat, completed in early July.

You are my sweetest.

love,
Mama

Happy Birthday, Oma!

Spinning for joy because it's your birthday!

Ruby's First Mama Hat

Ruby is wearing her first Mama Knit. It took a lot of help from the kind women at the yarn store, but there it is. A Real Thing. Instead of the usual square I knit over and over, pretending it will one day be a scarf.

Side view.

The back and top.

She likes it. (She's saying "hathathathat")

Is it unfair that she is sort of forced to wear whatever concoction I come up with? I prefer to think of it as my God-given right as a mother to dress her any way I want until she tells me otherwise. Yes. I believe that's what it is.

Reading with Ruby

Story time! Ruby loves this book. Her parents ceased being fans about 100 readings ago, but what can you do.

She is a pretty interactive audience. And there's an unprompted hug in the middle (Something she just started doing. It fills me up, I tell you.)

It's a long one. If you're watching at work, they're paying you too much.

Oh baby mine

Aunt Laurie and Ruby

Today, we went to check out a Parents' Morning Out program. This program comes highly recommended and lo and behold, they had one spot available for one morning a week. Did we want it?

Did we want it? Four precious hours to myself, to run, to read, to (gasp) sleep...oh, the giddyness.

So we went, and really, it was perfect.

The baby room was adorable, the babies happy and well cared for. The women there were grandmotherly. One had even been a midwife for twenty years in India! They loved the babies and the babies loved them.

You held my hand for maybe 10 seconds. Then you were off, playing and trying to give toys to the other babies.

I snuck out, into the hall and watched through the window. You played and played.

Then it was time to sign you up. Yes!, I said. Through the lump in my throat. Lump? What's this about?

I know, completely know, that mamas need breaks and they need support. I believe in the village! I'm not trying to be Super Mom or a martyr. But I couldn't do it. I'm not ready.

Back on the waiting list for us. Maybe in the fall I will be ready for my one morning a week.

Until then, we'll spend them outside, in our pajamas.

Monkeys

Opa and Ruby, speaking each other's language.

Ruby's Birthday, Part III

(This is the last part of the letter. First part is two posts down.)

This is you, cautiously, cautiously, eying your cupcake. This is your first ever sugar. People act like that's crazy, but I act like it's awesome.

You poked at it for a solid twenty minutes, then licked it and made sour faces. Wouldn't have been great if we'd gotten pictures of that?

Again, let's put all our hopes on Opa.

The party broke up shortly after cake and icecream, as they tend to do.

After party Oma-hug.

Trike from Uncle Eric and Aunty Patty.

Letting out some post-party rage.

I have so much more to say to you about how interesting and smart and hilarious you are as a one year old, and what you mean to us, and all of THAT, but I think I'll slip it into a private love letter from Mama to baby.



love love love you,

Mama

Ruby's Birthday, Part II

Here you are, shyly rounding the corner in your new bathing suit. Now we begin the swimming portion of the parTAY.

Here you are in the pool. I believe this is just before you dunked your face in and started drinking. You're coming a little undone, it seems, but isn't that a sign of all good parties?

The hat, it is gone. Hopefully spraying your head with all that chemically sunscreen won't cause a brain tumor. Yes, I really think these things.

And swinging! Opa and Oma gave you this swing for your birthday. You and all the other babies loved it.

(More up above, in part III)