Nineteen Months

This last month was your month of language.

You've been saying words for a while now, but just recently you started putting them together. Most of the time it sounds like: Amani upati Ila Biila Doggie??

This is all very cute. You are pretty much a commercial for wonderful, sweet babies. Like, in my imagination, when I pictured having a kid, it said exactly, "Amani upati Ila Biila Doggie??"

My imaginary child, did not however have tantrums. And definitely not the HOUR-long ones you've treated me to.

One started because I didn't let you eat cereal in the bath tub.
I didn't know kids could cry that hard and that long. I really expected your blood vessels to explode and I'm totally not just saying that for the sake of creating a metaphor. I really did watch your veins in your head get bigger and bigger until I had to just walk away.
But all the literature out there says that you throw such tantrums because you love me. If you didn't love me, the experts say, you wouldn't feel comfortable enough to "let it all out."

So, thank you for all the love, Beans. I love you back just as much.

Fair is fair

So, now that there are two of you, I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to do. . .

Like is it fair to just keep writing posts to you and not Ella? Am I expected to create an entire new blog about the musings of a 2-month old? I mean, what could it say besides: Ate. Slept. Cried. Pooped.

Well, actually, Ella has been getting around quite a bit. Like she went with me to see "27 Dresses," which was amusing only because the guy character writes for the wedding section and for many, many, many years, so did I.

Also, Ella met some babies her age and decided that it would be the perfect time to have a diaper explosion that would mess up the pristine nursery of some baby whose house overlooked Torrey Pines beach (hee hee, nice job!).

And, sorry Marina, but today she hung out with YOUR friends, Eliana and Cash and Isabella and Zoe at Java Mama cafe.

So it seems that Ella just may be deserving of her own blog. But I'm going to make you share because this might be the only time you will not throw an hourlong tantrum about it.

Garin to Hall

When you were born, I still felt like me - Nina Garin, music and fashion writer who liked naps and vodka and watching movies I'd already seen.



The problem with that was Nina Garin was also kinda lazy.



Dinner meant microwaving a quesadilla or going out. Cleaning up meant, uh, nothing. And those habits stuck around even after you came around. Like, remember the time you had popcorn and string cheese for dinner?

But things changed when Ella arrived. Now I'm: Nina Hall, mother of two.

And, well, I worked pretty hard at being Nina Garin, so I figure I better apply the same kind of effort into Nina Hall.

So lately I've been embracing this mom stuff. Like now I am constantly washing dishes and doing laundry. And I make dinner from cookbook, things I never even heard of before: twice baked potatoes! vegetable rounds!

You know what? It's not so bad that I would rather listen to "Zoom, Zoom Riding in the Car" than the new Magnetic Fields album because I know that you will sing along during the "beep beep" part. And so what if I have not seen any of the movies nominated for an Oscar but I have watched every single episode of Teletubbies?

But even though I've come to embrace this mom stuff, I have to draw the line at the jeans.

Fun with phones

The camera is still broken.
But cell phones can capture moments of cute, too.

This is Ella the day after getting her first shots. The experience was awful. But not quite as awful as when you went through it. Your screaming was a bit more dramatic. And for two days after, you wouldn't stop crying. Maybe because Ella's in the 70th percentile and you were in the 20th means she can better handle painful vaccines?



Here is Ella after you yelled "ELLABELLA" in her face. You do this a lot. But it's done with love. I know because you say it all sing songey and fast. And you try to put her blanket on her legs and her pacifier in her mouth. But after five minutes of your intense attention, your sister gets overwhelmed, see:

A regular comedian

Now that I'm home all the time, your changes aren't as obvious.
What I mean is, you know when you're around someone so much that you don't notice when they get taller or skinnier or tanner? Just because they are always around? And then you go away for a day or two and you see them again with fresh eyes and you're like, who is this new tall, skinny, tan person?
That's kind of how it is with you and your tricks.

But today, you did so many new things, it's like you were saying "do not go away to realize I'm a funny kid, let me show you in a million different ways RIGHT NOW!!"

So within the space of 50 minutes you:

1. Climbed on the couch, like the back part, and sat like a queen atop your throne.

2. Before your bath, you pulled at your chest and said, "chi chis" which means boobies. I've said that word to you before, but you never acknowledged it or acted like you were listening. But today, you said chi chis.

3. You said "Patty." As in your Aunt Patty. But you still have not said Gima.

4. Daddy left his fancy black work shoes by the door. While we weren't looking you slipped them on your feet and started walking around the house as if it were the most normal thing in the world to wear GIGANTIC shoes.

5. You say "papas" (potatoes) with a very very cute Mexican accent.

Meanwhile, even though I'm with Ella 24/7 it's super hard not to notice her change.
Your sister is already wearing your three month-old clothes, stuff you couldn't wear until you were four or five months.

And she smiles and smiles and smiles. Even when you go rightuptoherface and scream "Ellabella!! Ellabella!!"

Jinx

I realize I have not written much about Ella.

Part of that is because she is only six weeks old and is pretty much a blob. A very cute blob who has recently started to smile, but a blob nonetheless.

But the actual, real reason there's not much mention of your sister is because she is the kind of baby you don't want to write about for fear of jinxing. Let's just say you cried more than Ella and leave it at that.

Though I'm nervous to write much about Ella, here's a story I'll share:
After you woke up from your nap today, I put Ella in your crib and surprise of all surprises, you did not FREAK OUT. You are not really good at sharing and I was nervous that putting Ella in your sacred space with Lambie and your three doggies and two bears and one koala and one monkey would FREAK you OUT.

It did not.

Instead, you treated her like all your animals and just gave her a big big hug.

(The camera is broken. So let's just imagine Tinky Winky is Ella.)

Eighteen Months

is kind of like turning 18 years old.

Like, you are now old enough to be accepted in all day care centers, including that super ritzy one in Golden Hill, known as the "Harvard of Preschools." (Which you're not going to or anything, but it's nice to know the option is there.)

And you are allowed to be moody because of how your brain is going through a lot of changes, which explains why you've stopped waking up all cheery and instead cry "NOOOO" and "MAMBIE?"

Also, as an 18-month old you are totally ashamed of your parents and take pleasure in leaving the room we're in, closing the door and saying "Bye! Bye! Bye!" Not only that, but you also enjoy irritating us by making us play the most awful video in the universe: "Mommy & Me" which features mid-1990s kids and moms singing horribly awkward songs like BINGO and the Grand Ol' Duke of Earl in equally awkward sweaters.

But before I know it, you'll be 2 and then 3 and then 9 and then 18 for real. And instead of just running out of reach like in this picture, you'll be exploring the world outside, where you won't need Mambies or Lambies or places where wheels on the bus go round and round.



Happy half birthday, Beans!