Eighteen Going on Eighteen

In the fashion of all my "with it" mother friends who seem to have their proverbial sheisse together, I am finally posting an 18-month update on Bryony. She's actually only about 1 1/2 weeks away from 19 months, so I got this update in just in the nick of time!

I'm actually kinda glad that I'm late in doing this, because the Little Miss has been demonstrating some recent behavioral performances that I would have hated to have missed in this 18-month assessment. But, I guess I'll start with the vitals and move on to the nitty-gritty from there.



At her last check up, my little lightweight came in at 31 inches and 21 lbs, 5 oz. She was in the 90% per centile for height, but only the 25th per centile for weight. Considering I'm quite accustomed to calling her daddy the 2-legged giraffe, I think she got the whole tall and skinny thing from him (unfortunately not from me).

Her hair is curly as ever, long spiral curls that bounce when she jumps and that are long enough to be pulled back with a headband or into a ponytail.

She continues to dig breastmilk and I am happily still nursing her. I never really saw myself as someone who would nurse a toddler, but with all the recent scientific (I love science!) evidence that points to the health and emotional benefits to extended breastfeeding, I am glad to do it. We have never had to deal with an ear infection and she has only been sick (aside from the occasional sniffles) twice in her short life. I nurse her more often when I'M sick so that she gets all the antibodies I'm producing, thereby keeping her from acquiring the illness herself. So far, so good. Hopefully all this immune-strengthening brainfood I'm giving her will pay off in few school absences and a really kickass scholarship to a great university one day.

She has the most amazing smile I have ever seen.



Bryony has acquired several nicknames over the course of her 18 months, including:
Anemone (Uncle Walt called her that the day she was born, since he couldn't figure out how to pronounce bryony).
Handsy (Aunt Shannon started this one when she heard about Bryony's propensity for grabbing things she shouldn't and making big messes that I'd have to clean up. This name is very appropo).
Curly B Another aptly descriptive name that speaks for itself, originating from Aunt Tyuana

Bryony has more frequent flyer miles than most adults I know. She has been on over 20 flights, and has travelled to both U.S. coasts. She has visited the Washington, D.C. area, New York City, Michigan, Texas and Oregon. We are really trying to take advantage of the "fly-free-until-two" rule on the airlines. Not much more time!

For better or worse, Bryony has never been in daycare, and she has only been away from me for about 4-5 hours at the longest. I think this situation needs to change soon, as she needs more social interaction with kids her own age, and I could seriously use some time to myself some days. However, I have enjoyed the time that we have had together and am grateful for having had this experience as a stay-at-home mum.




Parlour tricks:
Her favorite word of all time is "NO!' which she will scream when she can embarass me in public, sing when she's being cute, or say matter-of-factly when she means it.
The evolution of her vocabulary has gone from "uhn-gee" to "gup!" to most recently, "ice!". We're not sure where the fascination with "ice" came from, but she says it all the time.
She can point to Kika and say "doh", meaning dog
She knows that dogs "woof!", cats "reow!" and cows (usually) "mooo!"
She gives tight hugs around our necks and sweet, sweet kisses on our cheeks
She loves to dance to just about any music she hears, but she particularly loves the theme music to "Who's the Boss?" and "Sanford and Son"
She has learned to say "please" (actually, it sounds more like pweees) to get what she wants, which is usually time on the breast
She says "Thank you" (or rather, yang-you!") when prompted.
Just like Mr. Brown, she can "tick" and "tock" like a clock.
Within the last week, she has learned to climb out of her pack n play.
Last weekend, after being quiet in the back of the car, she startled both Adam and me with a weird laugh and then said loudly "Oh, I like this one!". Adam asked me to look in the backseat to check that it was indeed our daughter back there; he thought she was possessed. It was kinda creepy.
She can give high-fives and play "Gimme Five, Up High, Down Low, Too Slow!".
She's a little tease. She'll offer you something she has in her hand, and then take it away just as you're reaching for it.



What A Girl Wants:
She loves the train that goes by our apartment seveal times a day and points out the window each time she hears the whistle
She loves animals, including Kika, Greg House, and the kitten we have recently taken in. She cannot stop wrapping her arms around them in tight hugs and bringing them random bits of food from her dinner plate.
She loves purses, especially mine, which she digs through daily with wild abandon. She particalarly likes the breath mints that I keep "hidden" for breath emergencies.
Bryony really likes to eat eggs, yogurt and toasted, buttered everything bagels. She's a breakfast food type of gal.
She really likes to sleep in our bed whenever we'll let her. I'm torn between my respect for co-sleeping and my dislike for the idea of the "family bed". Luckily, she goes to sleep in her own bed very easily, so we only co-sleep when we are travelling in places where we don't have her crib.
Her books. She loves to flip through her books by herself or while I'm reading. I try to get books with really beautiful illustrations so that she can connect with the stories even if she can't fully understand them. Thank you, Caldecott.



What A Girl (Doesn't) Want:
Most foods. Getting my daughter to eat is a battle at almost every meal. It's exhausting.
Saying good-bye...to...anyone Just this morning the maintenance man fixed a fan in the apartment and she bawled when he left. I think she has a bit of separation anxiety that she reserves for people she doesn't know that well. She doesn't cry anymore when either Adam or I leaves. Go figure!
Diaper changes. She hates them, even if she's toting around poop logs as heavy as cannonballs.
Getting her teeth brushed. This is probably her least favorite, most hated activity in all the world. I tried to make it fun. We laughed, we danced, we even sang during the process, but she just wouldn't open her mouth. So now, I've scarred her for life by pinning her down on the bed every night while I attack with the baby toothbrush. It's a painful process as she screams and cries (and sometimes bites me) as I navigate the brush through her little mouth. But, it's worth it to me to get those chompers cleaned at the expense of her happiness; I know of mothers whose children's teeth have rotted and I SO DON'T WANT TO GO THERE. So, toothbrush...

Looking On...
Bryony is growing and thriving and we are so deliriously happy to have her in our lives. Adam and I remind each other every day how lucky we are that she came into our lives. I am constantly amazed by her beauty, and remind myself not to focus on her outward appearance but to reinforce in her the internal beauty she radiates out to us all. Bryony is playful and sly and sarcastic and generous and kind and everything I want from a child of mine. All I can hope is that I am the kind of mother than she wants to have. And, I look forward to seeing what the next chapter in her life unfolds.