Look !!

This is what we woke up to the other morning- snow ! OK, it wasn't much , and it didn't coat the roads, and we couldn't build a snowman, but it was snow . Call me crazy, but I like my summers hot and my winters cold. A 70 degree day in January in New York is insane. This week has been really cold and every few days there is a chance of flurries.
Madeline liked looking out he window at the big fat flakes. I gave her a nice prime spot for peering out the window and she loved it. Then she wanted to get down and read Elmo books.
She loves her books, this one.

As most of you know, until the ultrasound, we were pretty sure we were going to have a boy. A u/s technician told us at 12 weeks she thought it was a boy. All the old wives tales of pregnancy pointed to boy. Chinese medicine said boy. Various clairvoyant people( trust me, I ran into quite a few where I used to work) said" Blue blue blue". My own maternal instinct was boy.
We had a name picked out- Owen( never quite decided on the middle name). I looked a boys clothes when I went shopping. Less than 12 hours before my ultrasound, I almost picked out boy bedding for the nursey.

At 20 weeks pregnant, we went for our ultrasound. We agreed we would find out the sex of the baby, but at this point , it just seemed a formality, rather unescessary. Owen was our baby.

" Oh , look he's kicking his leg" we said to each other.
The U/S tech said" He? Did someone tell you it was a boy ? Because I think you're having a girl"
Once the 'three lines' were confirmed, I felt as though I was finding out I was pregnant all over again. A girl? What happened to Owen ? I fell in love with the idea of having a son, puppy dog tails and all . I wasn't disappointed, you see, just in shock. What do you do with a girl? I asked myself. I made a mental note to be ready for the onslaught of pink I would surely recieve at my shower.

I was a tomboy through and through growing up. Perhaps that was because I have an older brother, but I never owned a Barbie Dream House. I don't remember ever wanting one. When relatives that didn't know me that well gave me dolls as a gift, I thanked them, but to myself I didn't get it. What was I supposed to do with a doll ? " They're boring- they don't do anything" , I told my long suffering mother. She dreamed of a daughter who played paper dolls, wore dresses and would host the occasional tea party for her stuffed animals. And she got me, a rough little girl who came into the house at age 5 bragging about tackling a 2nd grader in a game of football.

Only time will tell what kind of 'girl' Madeline will be. But she has certainly got me changing my views on pink. Look at her in her tutu. She can't quite figure it out. Maybe she'll be like me, and when she's 9 years old, she'll look at this picture and say" why did you dress me in that?"
Whomever she turns out to be, right now she's my little baby girl in a tutu

11 months

As Madeline was waving to strangers today at the bank, I started thinking about how much she has grown in just the past month. She now sits up for extended periods of time without falling over, crawls all over the place, imitates whatever sounds you make( and often initiates a round of "I'm Clearing My Throat, Now Your Turn"), waves hello and goodbye, gives kisses and pulls up on anything and everything. She'll be 11 months old tomorrow.
In contrast to the first few months of her life, where I knew exactly how old she was in weeks , days and hours, this 11 month birthday has snuck up on me. Maybe the holidays, maybe denial. This one is hitting me hard , though. Because I know the next one is one year.
I have had so much fun with her over the past 4 months- this is definately my favorite age. So much amazing discovery. I see the excitment in her eyes when she crawls to the couch,when she realizes what this mobility means-independance. And while my husband is excited for her to get older- less delicate perhaps- I just want her to stay a baby. My beautiful, pink cheeked, brown eyed, chunky legged, dimpled faced baby.
I realize now that the emotions you feel when your baby is turning one is one of the 10,000 things you can not understand until you are a mother yourself. I sort of want to freeze time, while at the same time tag along on the ride of discovery.
I love you Madeline, Happy 11 months.