Dear Noah - The Hospital

Dear Noah,

I know you're going to be alright.

In all of my heart of hearts I KNOW it. Yet, I can't help but cry for you. I can't help it because I AM YOUR Mommy and that's what Mommies do.

I'm lying here, beyond exhausted, listening to you breathe and watching - like an OCD hawk - your monitor that flashes all your vitals (which are excellent). I watch them, because, well, again, that's what Mommies do.

Today I've learned so many things about you my son, and so many things about myself.

From you, I've learned that you don't need to be an adult to be brave or be positive. You have been the bravest, happiest soul, while you've been poked, prodded, touched, moved, and badgered by all the adults around you who've demanded you take this medicine, hold still for this throat swab, that thermometer, this blood work, that monitor. You've maintained a smile and a genuine sweetness through most of it that many your age and years older don't possess. Everyone you met today has fallen in love with you, with your joyous spirit even though you're unwell. They all marvel at your talkative nature, at your chatter about cars and Curious George. When dinner arrived tonight you said to the nurse, "I'm hungry." And she laughed and handed you your food and you said, "Kin-ooo" (your sweet version of "thank you").

From myself, I've learned that I am a Mommy. I know that may sound silly, since I've been one for nearly three years now, but maybe more accurately, I've learned what it IS to BE a Mommy. I've learned that you and your brother are my number one priority, that you matter most and that if I EVER lost either of you, I too would completely and utterly lost.

Again, I KNOW that you'll be alright, but the thought sped across my mind that you may not be and that nearly crippled me.

When the doctor came in, with concerned blue eyes, and a kind smile, saying, "Oh buddy, you're having trouble breathing, aren't you?" The magnitude of the situation struck me, nearly knocked me over and I struggled not to fall apart in front of you - since I was supposed to be the strong one FOR you.

And when you caught my tears, even with your own battle to fight, you looked at me with those stunning brown eyes and said, "You okay, Mommy? Mommy's okay? Mommy's happy?"

I smiled through my tears and hugged you and lied, "Yep, Mommy's okay. Mommy's happy."

And here it sit, at some ungodly hour, running on less than 8 hours of sleep in two days, watching, listening, being at the ready - for what, I don't know - but even in this hospital, I feel as if I can take better care of you, watch over you more closely than any of these trained professionals.

Sleep well my beautiful son, get well, knowing that I'm right here, and in some way, I always will be.

Love,

Mama

xoxo

Dear Sebastian - Week 14

Dear Sebastian,

You are a little more than 3.5 months old (14 weeks to be exact).

You are now the most smiley and chatty of boys - yay! You coo and "talk" and speak gibberish and have the MOST EXPRESSIVE (barely-there) eyebrows I have ever seen. Even when you're just smiling at me, you'll raise an eyebrow or raise them both - as if to say, oh yeah, I'm on to you woman - and it CRACKS me right up!

Things guaranteed to make you laugh include clapping your fisted hands together and singing or saying, "Yay, Sebastian!" And tickling you - you are already SUPER ticklish under your armpits!

You're already a little go-er. A squirmy little Mitts who somehow manages to move all over the place on your back. You raise your bum off the floor and shuffle yourself backwards and rock from one foot to the other so quickly I'm sure the momentum is going to roll you over one of these days.

We've started you on some food. For the last few weeks you've been GAWKING at Daddy or I while we're eating - you have this endless fascination for food so I thought, what the heck - yes it's early, but hey, I've done this before.

You weren't crazy about the homemade brown rice cereal mixed with formula, but man oh man you LOVED dem organic apples. You smiled and cooed and actually ate most of it, shoving your fists in there along with the food making a real good mess.

You sleeping skills are still crap. Yes, crap. I love you son, my dearest, but you are trying to kill me. Your napping through the day is amazing some days and pretty much non-existent others. Your nighttime sleeping is much the same - you actually slept for 9.5 hours once (ONLY ONCE), but just to keep things interesting you've decided, pfft, screw that, I'm going to get up whenever - every two hours, maybe three, four(?), five(?). Just to screw with me nothing with you is. ever. the. same.

You must sense that I CRAVE stability, predictability, routine (in most instances - especially when sleep is involved) so you've decided to teach me(?) that sleep and routine isn't all that important(?).

You are the most amazing sun-shiney boy who is getting more and more attention from his big brother, which warms my heart.

Noah LOVES to get smiles from you and thinks you're always talking just to him. Which, generally you are. You seem to already adore him, as he does you. Your eyes follow him wherever he's bounding off too. You've gotten used to his loud voice, his accidental boots to your head, his rough kisses and non-too-gentle rocking motions of your chair.

Looks like I've got to cut this letter short, you're up after just 45 minutes...dear God...

Love,

Mama

xoxox

Dear Noah - Independent You

Dear Noah,

You don't need me anymore.

You are a little more than two-and-a-half-years-old and you have already broken my heart. I wasn't expecting to be so disposable, so soon.

You are supremely independent; the phrase of the last few months is: "No Mommy, no, I do all. my. self."

Yes sweetheart, you do do most everything all yourself. You feed yourself, get yourself dressed, get up into your chair, go to the potty, clean your hands, face...the list is endless.

Not only do you not need me anymore, but there are times as if I feel as if you'd live a contented life if I wasn't around.

One night I asked your Daddy if boys REALLY do need their Moms. If Moms are REALLY that important since Daddies really seem to rule their world and Moms are just, well, the ones that demand hand-washing, manners, picking up after yourself, rules, rules, rules.

Your Daddy laughed at me, of course, and assured me that boys DO need their Moms - for what, I'm not exactly sure - other than to nurture (which you rarely want or need unless you're hurt), to be your soft place (you ALLOW me the privilege to hug you when you feel like it), and to be your womanly influence ("Mommy has gina.").

This Mommy is looking for where she fits in your world since playing cars (gag) and playing cars (OMG) and playing more cars (puh-lease!) is all you want to do these days - even though I encourage other activities like colouring (YES), Playdough (woot!) and arts and crafts (awesome!).

Although I marvel at your brilliance - you know your ABCs, can count to 15, have almost mastered the elusive potty and a HOST of other talents - I miss that toddler who called me his favourite, who wanted more from me than a cup of juice or to play (DREADED) cars.

And I want to say that all of this was to be expected, I fully expected and knew the day would come when you wouldn't want or need me very much anymore, but I didn't know it would make me so sad. I didn't know watching you grow from a newborn, to an infant, to a toddler, to now a boy would crush me so.

You are a wondrous little man, Noah. I am proud of the boy you're turning into - the kind boy who has a shy streak, but is also heart-warmingly outgoing and friendly to strangers saying, "Hello!"

Just do Mommy a favour, when you read this, when you're all big and grown, that you'll gimmie a few more hugs and kisses now and then...I'll probably miss them as much then as I do now.

Love,

Mama

xox

Dear Sebastian - Week 2

Dear Sebastian,

Eight weeks have past since you came into our lives and as the time goes by, you're reminding me on a daily basis that you are your own person - more accurately, nothing like your big brother.

Okay, not entirely true, you are similar in demeanor in some ways, but completely different in others.

When you were first born, you loved to be snuggled, loved to sleep on my chest - heck, anyone's chest - and while this is still true to some extent, you have very particular ways about how and where you will and will not sleep - and it cracks me up.

(Most times) you demand to be swaddled in your Woombie (God's greatest gift I'm certain), now whether there's another blanket wrapped around you or just draped over you, it doesn't really matter. But after the swaddle you also want to eat - even if you've just eaten, you'd like a little more (again, most times) - enough to fall asleep. Now WHERE you are put to sleep after that is all about your preference that day - most of the time it's in your own darkened room, but as of late (oddly enough) it's on the couch amongst the chaos and noise of our house.

I swear, once I think I've learned YOUR rules, you change them on me just for fun(?) for spite(?) to keep me on my toes(?)...you are SUCH a Midder...which is your nickname by the way - it started our as Mister-Mister in the hospital, that turned into Midder and can now be shortened to The Mitts or Mitts - don't ask me, it's just the way I roll.

You are the most serious of babies my dear Sebastian. I've heard of babies like you, the ones that eye everyone knowingly, as if they are far beyond our baby talk, as if they'd much rather we discuss the laws of the universe and politics than pester them with our sing-song voices - that is YOU. Your smiles are rare (but are becoming more and more frequent) and when you do grace us with one of those gummy grins - it usually has nothing to do with what we're doing or saying - you just smile when you feel like it. And can I say, since my baby experience is quite limited, I find your stingy delivery of smiles unsettling. I don't know when your happy, only to guess you must be if you're not crying. But then again, you've begun to chatter - you've begun to coo and gurgle and within those coos are half-smiles and amused eyes that keep me going and telling myself that I MUST be doing SOMETHING right.

Now that you've been here for two months, you and your brother are becoming more acquainted - he's no longer just tolerating you, he actually has begun to LOVE you.

When you're out of his sight, Noah often says, "Where's baby brother?" Or if you cry, he says, "Baby brother okay." And he's even started to call you by your name - lol - something we'd worry he'd NEVER do. You are his Baby Basa...he is protective of you, rocking your chair if you cry and so loving - kissing your fuzzy head goodnight.

He forgets to be gentle sometimes, but his intentions are kind. I hope the trend continues - it'll probably stall when you start crawling and "stealing" is precious cars.

Love,

Mama

xoxo

Dear Noah - New Big Brother

Dear Noah,

Well, well...I'm not sure where to begin, my wee boy. This has been quite the experience these last two weeks. And I wish I had more positive things to say, but damn child, you are not taking the adjustment period to your new brother very well. Now don't get me wrong, everyone says your behaviour is completely normal - typical in fact, but it is in no way pleasant for anyone.

I myself am at a loss of what to do. Your Dad on the other hand - bless him - has the patience of a Saint for your constant whining, tantrums, outright disobedience, and general unpleasant behaviour.

On more than one occasion I've had to remind myself that you are only 2, you don't have the vocabulary to tell us you're probably scared that your little brother is going to take your mommy and daddy away; that we'll love him more and you less...and that you might just be generally pissed that you have to share the spotlight with someone else. But above all, I have to remind myself not to take your lashing out as a personal attack on me, my parenting and the decision we made to bring a new person into our family.

Aside from this major bump in our and your world, you've been a very sweet and caring brother when you've wanted to be. I understand that as of now, your brother is pretty boring - he doesn't do much, or interact with you other than looking at you. But on your own, I've seen you go over and kiss him on the head or rub his fuzzy hair or even just look at him and it warms me to know that there's some sort of a relationship starting there; one that I hope in time will grow.

Even though by the time you'll read this, you'll likely be a man, and all this will be behind us, I still want you to know, what I've always told you over and over - that you're Mommy and Daddy's favourite Noah of all. No one will ever, in a million years replace you - we love you just the same as we did before your brother came along - maybe even MORE because now we have double the love to go around.

You were the first one, the one that MADE me a Mommy, taught me to love unconditionally and that's pretty darn special - just like you are to us.

Love you to the moon and back.

Love,

Mommy

xooxxo

Dear Noah - 21 Months

Woah! This was the month of the sickies! Yikes! It was like it was December - height of the cold, flu and stomach bug season in our house!

You were sick three times this past month - the first of which, we think you caught it from Daddy and I (sorry) - and you were sent home from Linda's because you threw up all over yourself. I was away on a course in Barrie and was frantic to get home to you. When I did finally get home, you seemed like your old, happy, cheery self and then you got coughing on a glass of water and you promptly threw up all over yourself again. You cried and then pointed to the remnants of a handful of crackers that had just been in your tummy and said, "Mess? Mess?" It broke my heart.

You do that often in a day. You, just being you, are a heartbreaker...I don't know if you'll ever truly know how much we love you - me especially, I love you more than Daddy - just kidding.

The next time you were sick was just a few days later. Your dad and I were woken just before 1 a.m. to you screaming your head off. As soon as I opened your bedroom door I could smell it - the vomit. I picked you up and cleaned you off, while Daddy cleaned the floor and your bed.

You were so very, very sad.

The third time you were sick you woke up and were, just off. You felt warm to the touch and were clingy. We dropped you off at Linda's anyway and she called me about two hours later saying you were sick

And boy oh boy oh boy were you EVER.

I have never seen you this sick and you truly, scared me something fierce.

You had a fever of 102 and spiked at the doctor's office somewhere around 103.2...

You were listless, immobile and although I loved the snuggles, they weren't worth seeing you so very sick.

Dr. Ibey said you had a mild ear infection and if you weren't better by the next day, to give you a prescription.

I brought you home and you and I laid on the couch. You laid on me like a newborn and barely showed interest in the vanilla shake or the cartoons on the TV. You and I fell asleep a short time later and I put you to bed early where you slept for FIFTEEN HOURS!

And, in true Noah fashion, you woke up right as rain. And all was well in our worlds again.

On to the happy stuff...

Words abound out of your mouth. Your Dad and I sat down one night and started compiling a list of your words and were surprised to discover there are more than 25 words in your vocabulary. Among those words is, of course, mess, sha-sha (for Truck), noooo (you elongate the word and say it so softly), yesss (another elongated word), hi, bye, bus, book, push, poke, etc...even Dr. Ibey was impressed.

It's as if you've turned over this new leaf into boyhood and words and abilities are just non-stop.

You make us so proud!

But let's get to the nitty-gritty...sometimes...daily...in MY opinion, you're behaviour is very um, undesirable - to say the least. Now let me just say, that apparently all this thrashing, slapping (of yourself and others), and all out fit-throwing is normal and natural. That contorting your body in such a way so that I cannot remove your pee and poop filled diaper is all apart of growing up.

And Mommy doesn't like it. Not one. Little. Bit.

Time Outs are daily - pretty much. There even twice and three times daily - depending on your mood.

I know that this is only the tip of the preverbal iceberg. That. Oh. My. GOD it gets so much worse, but child you test my patience.

And it's laughable. That I scold you over and over and over and bloody over until I'm blue in the face - "Noah, DO NOT HIT." And what did I do this morning, when you were kicking me with your sandaled feet, kicking the wall to make the animal hooks fall on your head - I whacked you on the upper thigh.

There goes leading by example, folks.

Screwed that one up royally.

However, it DID get your attention. What I was NOT getting by raising my voice, speaking to you calmly, holding your face in my hand and demanding you look at me - no, that slap on the thigh got it - immediately.

Sigh.

I'm new at this - obviously - and sorry to say it, but I'm working the kinks out on this parenting thing with you, Noah.

And, can I say, so far, I think me and your dad have done a decent job, because after all the fit-throwing is said and done, you do what you're told. You do brush your teeth, you pick up those books, you put those clothes back on the chair...you eventually, do listen...so by GOD we must be doing something right!

And really, all joking aside...your personality is so honest to goodness pure and sweet.

Your kindness melts me inside - when you kissed Elea after you accidentally pulled some toys down on her; when you gave Danielle a toy after you took it away; when you grab my face in your little hands and run them down my cheeks (just like I do to you) - I know that you're a beautiful soul.

Happy 21 months, Boo (a new nickname) - stop growing immediately!

Love,

Mommy

xoxo

Dear Noah - 20 months

Dear Noah,

So here's the story - and you'll probably read it and go, "Ew, Mom, really? I didn't need to know that!" But hear your mother out.

Your Dad and I have been trying - just for the last month - to give you a baby brother or sister (and you're welcome, for me only going into that much detail with that particular topic - at least for now, anyway).

I'm not pregnant yet, but all the leading up to the getting pregnant has lead to a multitude of muddled and murky thoughts and feelings.

I've had mixed emotions about another baby. It's not to say that I haven't wanted to give you this and give another little person to your dad and I; to our family. On the contrary, since you slept through the night and I stopped being cra-zy, I've wanted this for all of us.

But the mixed emotions are from my own self doubt about my abilities as a mom, and maybe your feelings about being a big brother.

I worry that you will not want a little brother or sister, that you will resent the fact that Daddy and I can't be at your beck and call as we have been for your whole existence. I worry that you lash out, you will become a little devil in order to get our attention.

Since I don't know what it's like to have a sibling, I worry that bringing another person into your life will change you negatively.

Yet, deep down I know in my heart that you will love your little sibling. Just as you loved your cousin Audrey when she visited. You could. not. get. enough of her. You watched her and touched her and kissed her and were just fascinated with this little person - who, oddly enough to you, was smaller than you. I'm sure there will be a learning curve for us all, but I know in the end, you will love him or her...because you do it so easily.

I know you will get concerned when the baby cries, you will itch to kiss him or her and help Mommy and Daddy with dirty diapers and feeding. And that you will love to show him or her how to do all the things that his or her big brother already knows how to do.

As for you Mister, big words are flying out of your mouth and if you can't say them you try and try and try to sound them out.

Watch is a new word, that sounds a lot like "Wassss" and it's just adorable. You also say, "hi", "GG", and "Nana," "Why (as in Super Why!)", "Mess," and "Busssssssss."1

Your favourite show, Super Why! has come in handy in teaching you to sound out words, "What letter makes the sound buhhhhhh?" and you inevitably repeat, "buhhhhh."

You're also fascinated with watching videos of yourself when you were littler. I can see the little wheels turning behind your big, brown eyes. Knowing, instinctively that it's you, but not really understanding how that's even possible.

You are still so smart and happy and wide-eyed with an innocence that I hope you hold on to until you're 20 - just kidding...

Happy 20 months, Noah...you are mommy's sunshine.

Love,

Mama

Dear Noah - 18 months

Dear Noah,
Saucy! You are a saucy, silly little monkey.
I may regret these words, but child of mine, I think we have reached the "terrible twos" already, which, really aren't that bad (yet?). However, those words don't adequately describe your personality. I would call you saucy and determined and sometimes, dare I say, pig headed.
And my dear Noah, know that those words I use, are all in love and in somewhat exaggerated jest - and, I know that one day, all these traits will come in handy - wait, they have already.
Your stubborn determination, is what allowed you to take your first step at 9 months, to put your coat in the closet (with no prompting) last month and know EXACTLY what your daddy and I are talking about when we say things like, "Noah, pick up your cup and put it on the table, please."
And you know what, most of the time you do it.
This past month you also got so mad at me that you've hit me in the face, pulled my hair and pinched me, which, let me tell you made ME soooooo mad - and hurt. Yes Noah, you hurt my feelings (I know I've hurt yours too, so it's okay). So we're working on teaching you that it's not okay to use physical violence when you're angry - scream and throw a fit if you want, but don't hit.
Which leads me to you biting me as well. Though, you weren't mad, I think you thought you were playing, but ohhhhh I wanted to bite you back...I don't think you understood how it hurt.
And those kisses I talked about last month; those kisses that you doled out to daddy and I nearly constantly have almost stopped. Whenever I ask for a kiss you run away shaking your head. You do offer up kisses if we've done something to make you happy or sometimes as a thank you, but that's about it...the best we can get out of you now for kisses is if you head so we can kiss your forehead - lol.
So this past month you've sprung TONS of new teeth - you had two just around your first birthday, then two on the top popped up together and now, wow! You've got three more on the top, one on the bottom and a bottom molar coming in all at once and I wouldn't have known (you don't whine or cry) unless I'd seen them while you were laughing one day.
And the biggest news of all this month...get ready for it - you pooped - in the potty! I know, I know, you're thinking, ew, really, mom?
But wait, this was an exciting revelation. Your Dad went to change your diaper, realized you were "still going" and decided to just plop you on the potty. And there you finished your business and we all did a happy dance and clapped and cheered. Don't get me wrong, I don't expect that you'll be using the potty permanently anytime soon, but we were so happy that you weren't afraid of the potty or terrified to go - you just let 'er rip!
You're starting to speak in sentences now too. Now I don't mean coherent, English sentences. No, they're gibberish, sounding sort of like English, but not really sentences, but Dude, we KNOW you're saying something important when you're babbling away to your books or toys.
You are trying to say real words more and more you said "up" like "ahh-puh" sticking out your bottom lip and blowing your bangs all over - it's super cute. You also say: "downstairs" like "dun-stes"...I love the way you talk.
Love,
Mommy
xoxox

Dear Noah - 68 Weeks

Dear Noah,

Happy 2010!!

Of course, by the time you're old enough to read this and give a crap, it'll be waaaay past this date and you'll think I'm old and your Dad's ancient and you might be right, but we're still the coolest parents you'll have ever encountered and we're still the boss...okay, enough of that rant...

Welcome to a new decade my sweet boy.

So, about Christmas - it wasn't as exciting as I was hoping - I don't know what your dad thinks of how it went, but it was pretty low-key on the excitement scale.

Santa left you a red toboggan, a (rotary-style) telephone (I had one when I was little) and a Glockenspiel (not to be confused with a xylophone - even though that's pretty much what it is). You got the idea pretty quickly that those were your toys and you immediately pulled the toboggan out from under the tree and sat in it and then pulled it around with your other toys inside.

However, when it came to actually unwrapping presents, that was a new experience. You'd seen those colourful boxes under the tree for the last month and didn't touch them, so you had no idea what kind of goodies were inside. I had to show you how to rip and tear and the paper and you caught on pretty quickly, but lost interest in the whole experience almost immediately.

You were more into in having ME unwrap the toy or clothes - and even then you didn't really care about the things you'd received - you loved your toboggan too much - Mrs. Claus was one COOL cat to think Santa should bring you one of THOSE!

Christmas Day your Dad and I took you out with your toboggan and that too was a bit of a bummer. Albeit a funny bummer, but a bummer nonetheless. As much as you LOVE going outside, you hate the snowsuit you have to wear. And I don't blame you. You can barely walk and you (inevitably) fall on your face you can't get up. And as funny as it is, your Dad and I aren't that sick and twisted. So we spend a majority of our time with you outside picking you up off your face and brushing snow off your hands. You spend the time waddling around, falling and getting pissed off.

So anyway, we took you outside and sat you in your toboggan and pulled and you immediately fell backwards out of the sled. It was funny. You didn't cry. You just laid there looked up at us like: "WTF?"

So we tried again, showing you how to hang on to the handles. Which you didn't; so again you fell out.

Then I think your Dad had the brilliant idea to put you in on your tummy and we'd pull you that way and it worked - we even got a smile out of you - but you still weren't impressed. You wanted to pull the sled, not BE pulled. You're definitely a firstborn. Determined, stubborn and smart.

Your words are still few and far between, but your Great Nana taught you how to say "Santa" and "ta-ta" on Christmas Eve. Both of those words you whisper for some reason and it's SO cute!

You follow more and more direction - cleaning up your toys, putting your hat in the basket by the door, closing doors (still) and now dishwasher and fridge.

You know where all your body parts are and have even taken to a picture we have of your Great Papa and Bobby Orr.

"You kneel on all fours staring and pointing at the picture that sits on a bottom shelf.

Then you point. "Ah-dub, ah-dub, ah-dub."

And we say, "Where's Papa?" And you wave your little hand in front of his face. And then you lean over and give Papa a kiss. It breaks my heart a little to know that you won't REALLY know the man who is your namesake. But know that he was a wonderful soul, just like you. A kind-hearted man who LOVED to laugh and loved his family even more. He gave great hugs and I would love to wake up early at the cottage to listen to him strum a tune on his guitar and sing...I miss him still and I miss him more knowing you two will never know each other."

On a happier note, you're goofy personality is coming out more and more. You have this silly, squinty-eyed-cheesy-grin you give anyone who asks you: "Do you want to go downstairs?", "Do you want some milk/some berries?, "Do you want to go for a car ride?" You are easily pleased and sometimes, even easier to tick off. If you want it, you want it now - you have little patience (you get that from me) and you let us know whenever we've done something to displease his Majesty.

Here's hoping that 2010 brings you joy, joy joy and lessons and lots of learning and fun, fun fun!

You are a wonderment - Daddy and I learn from you - believe it or not. We learn how to teach you, we learn how to be parents (better parents!), and how to be better people, because of you.

Thank you Noah, you are Mommy's greatest teacher.

Love,

Mommy

xoxoxo

PS. I've significantly cut down on my swearing as a New Year's resolution, so you don't pick up any choice four-letter words...from ME at least!

Dear Noah - 64 Weeks

Dear Noah,

We're under two weeks away from your second Christmas! I'm excited for you. This is going to be super fun!

We've already went to visit Santa. One Saturday morning, Dad and I dressed you in my favourite overall outfit - with a red shirt and socks - and took you to Breakfast With Santa. We were told it would be best to visit Santa before we ate breakfast. There was no line-up, so we walked over, and I plopped you on his lap. And you instantly looked terrorized and then started to cry. It was funny, only because it was expected - I've yet to know a child who DOESN'T cry when he encountered Santa at your age. You spent the rest of the breakfast happily running around, pushing empty chairs and "meeting" other little people. When it was time to go, we got back in line and Daddy knelt next to Santa with you. You looked only a little scared but you reached out and touched Santa's furry coat.

We plan on taking you to see the Santa at the mall, to see if we can get a better picture, instead of the one we have where you're bawling your eyes out.

This past month you've learned where more of your body parts are - in addition to your penis - lol. Now you know where your belly button, ears and hair are, and sometimes you nose.

You give kisses - closed and open mouthed when asked and say the words "pea" and "baby".

Since we have a ton of snow you've gone outside a few times and experienced winter in all its glory. You look like a marshmallow man in your snowsuit as you waddle and fall and are unable to get up without help. There's nothing particular that you love about being outside in the snowy, cold weather - you certainly don't like eating snow - but do you love it. You've even brought me your boots and hat as a couple of times as your way of asking if we can go outside.

You're a very good boy - still! Dad and I have taught you to put away your toys and you listen (most) of the time. You have also had your first set of time-outs. You were throwing your food on the floor. No matter how many taps on the hand, "no's", "keep your food on the trays", or "stops" you kept doing it - very defiantly. So I picked you up, wiped your hands and face and put you in bed and closed the door where you instantly burst into tears. I hurt your feelings, you were so broken hearted. But it worked, you only did it once more (and one more time in time-out) and you learned your lesson. You're so smart!

Speaking of smart, your favourite book at the moment is "I am Blessed" and on one of the pages in the book has a puppy, a kitty, butterflies and bees and you can correctly point out all of them when asked. As well, you can point out the bear, boy and an orange kitty throughout the book. You're just BRILLIANT!

Your cousin Trek and his girlfriend Jenny visited with your (second) cousin Audrey this past weekend. You're nine months older than her, she's just six months old and my, my, you love her. You spent this morning kissing her head, patting her hands and just staring at her. Dad and I hope this loving behaviour will continue if you're a big brother some day. You were so sweet to her.

Your motor skills are off and running (like you)! You know eat with a spoon and fork with a little help. Once the food is on the utensil, you pretty well get it into your mouth easily...though there's usually a stray noodle, veggie or grain of rice that ends up in your lap or in your bib.

And even today - the day you turn 15 months old - you pulled yourself on to the (ugly) couch in our dinning room and were pleased as punch with your new accomplishment. So all day long that's what you've been doing, pulling yourself up and (with help and guidance) crawling down. Only a few times have you pitched yourself forward off the couch and on to the floor. All afternoon we've taught you to roll on to your tummy and slide yourself down until your feet touch the floor and we clap and you clap and you grin and grin and grin (your super-cute squinty-eye grin)!

You are a joy - pure and simple.

Love,

Mommy

xoxoxo

Dear Noah - 60 Weeks

Dear Noah,
Hello Sweet Face (I call you that all the time) along with Lovey-Loves, Sweet Pie and still Bubba Lou and Hammy-Hams, but not as much as I used to.
These letters are getting harder and harder to write, with work and you and daddy and the regular (un-fun) interruptions of life getting in the way.
It's also hard to condense one month worth of adventures and milestones when I feel like I've missed much of them by working...boo. Unless Daddy and I win the lottery, I'm afraid it's going to be like this...cést la vie.
So here we are, at 14 months old.
Where to begin. Well, I'll start by telling you that mid-October (last month) Dad and I took you to get the H1N1 vaccine. So much controversy surrounding it, when, it's just like the flu, really. We decided it was best for our family, best for you and could, save your life. You screamed for a grand total of 15 seconds, then were more interested in the wooden spiral toys on the wall in the clinic room - way to go!
I like joking with you when you cry: "Shake it off, Noah." lol
You also celebrated your second Halloween and were, a little confused as to what was exactly going on.
We took you to six houses - which included the Verstraten's and Granny's - and you didn't smile ONCE. Not once. You just furrowed your little brow, stared at everyone who "oohhed and ahhed" and were all like, 'geeze mom, this get up is lame and totally sucks.' You were a skunk, by the way. It was a great costume that I got for like $10.50 at Once Upon a Child - with a hat with a stripe down the top and fuzzy ears. The body part had a big tummy, red bow tie (omg!), and a striped tail! There were matching "feet" too! I painted your nose black and carried you to all six houses - daddy protected the candy.
These days you tear through the house like a whirlwind (I have a feeling I'm going to be saying that more than once in the coming years) and have an opinion and mind-set that comes out on occasion. Especially when the word, "no" is used.
You are a helpful boy. You love to close cupboards, the fridge, the freezer and any other open object. You love to hear "thank you" and "good boy."
You listen remarkably well (most of the time) when we do say no. You have yet to touch the fireplace downstairs, I think so far you understand that it's dangerous. I do expect you'll touch it eventually (much to your Dad's horror) just to see if what we've been saying all along is true.
You are a happy, joyful soul - still. You grin and smile and "chat" to anyone. Smiles comes so easily to you and I love that. Daddy and I live to make you laugh and smile.
Speaking of smiles. You've got two more teeth coming in - the top ones. Unlike the bottom ones that came in at the exact same time, your top right is half way through, while the other top tooth is just, peeking out.
You look so different with more teeth - lol - almost weird. And with that, we've also been brushing those little toofers. You're so good about letting Daddy or I brush first. You giggle and squirm and laugh - I guess it tickles your gums. And then it's your turn and you just chew on the toothbrush and suck all the toothpaste out of it.
Daddy and I have also taught you the art of the Eskimo kiss - you hold your head still (when you want to) and let us rub our nose against yours. It's adorable.
I can't wait for your second Christmas - just around the corner. I don't think you'll "get it", but I'm sure you'll have a TON of fun ripping the wrapping paper.
Love,
Mommy
xxoxoxo

Dear Noah - 56 Weeks

Dear Noah

Well my sweet, another month has (quickly!) come and gone, except this time, I haven't been with you. I haven't been with you for more than 2.5 hours during weekdays and boy, oh boy have I missed you! Desperately I miss you so much that when I finally go get you from Linda's and bring you home, I find myself rolling on the floor with you and tickling you and "eating" your armpits - it's one of the best parts about my day.

Time with you is even more precious, now that we're not together as often as we were, in the beginning. Now I don't mind (too much) carrying you around while I make dinner answering all your pointing "pshhht, pshhhts". Translation: "What's that mom?"

Now, the favourite part of my day is bedtime, but for a whole other reason. Before, it was because I needed to get to bed too, before I had to get up with you two or three times through the night. Now, I love to put you to bed so we can snuggle and sing.

You sit sideway in my lap, in the rocking chair we read a book or two or half-a-book, because sometimes you just flip, filp, flip the pages. Then I turn out your Noah's Ark lamp and by the glow of your baby monitor, I wrap my arms around you and rock and sing. Sometimes you sit up straight, looking at the monitor, smiling in the dark, tapping your open palm on my leg. Other times (I wish more often) you lay your head on my chest, I rest my chin on your downy-soft hair and kiss you and sing and smell your hair (it always smells good). During those times, I could sing all night long. I start with "Let it Snow" (it was the first song I sang to you when you were just two months old and you grin every time I sing it), followed by a number of other cheese-ball songs that you love - including the Discovery Channel's "Boom De-ah-da" song...

Up until recently, after songs, after cuddles, I'd lay you in bed, take your blankie and put it over you and you'd snuggle it close to your face and smile and coo. I'd leave the room and you'd blink, blink in the dark. Now, however - the last 3-4 nights - you scream and holler and cry your eyes out no matter what either Daddy or I do before we put you in bed. You've cried SO hard that I've gone into your room twice now - because it absolutely broke my heart - you whimper and moan with big alligator tears streaking down your chubby cheeks. I hold you for a while longer and sing more songs and still, I put you back into bed and you cry and cry these ANGRY, broken-hearted cries that tear me up...so I go downstairs or in the kitchen where I can't quite hear you and busy myself until you inevitably - some five minutes later - quiet yourself and blink, blink, blink in the dark...I have a feeling this is the start of what bedtime will be like when you get older...

We celebrated your second Thanksgiving (which really felt like your first) at the cottage and with our neighbours, the Verstraten's. You loved playing with your cousins Brianna and Mackenzie at the cottage and how they loved to crawl around on the floor with you and build towers you could destroy!

At the Verstraten's you ate like a perfect gentleman - all of the turkey, mashed potatoes (you love potatoes!), stuffing (a first - which you love, love, LOVED!), asparagus (surprise, you ate it all!), pickles (so juicy) and broccoli (eh, it was okay).

Halloween is right around the corner and you're going to be a sweet, stinky skunk, I can't wait to take you out and show you off!

Love,

Mommy

Dear Noah - 52 Weeks

Dear Noah,

Oh my sweet, sweet boy. Where have these last 365 days gone? Where did my newborn baby go?

I have mixed emotions about you finally turning the big ONE - it's truly bitter-sweet.

Because of my "baby blues" for a few months following your birth, I have regrets over missing the (hundreds) of moments I missed because I wasn't "present".

Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte makes me sad - silly I know - it reminds me of the handful of times your dad and I took you to sit on the patio with us when you were so tiny and I was so sad. That in turn reminds me of when GG came to take care of me, cook for us and coach me through the darkest days...despite the brilliance you brought to our lives, I couldn't see it...not then.

I don't think I can find the words to express how deeply sorry I am for not holding more - especially now, since you don't want to be held - for not loving you enough.

I'm hoping for the rest of my years I can make up for those months we lost...

The morning of your birthday I went into your room and sang 'Happy Birthday' - it was hard to sing, I was getting choked up...but you were so sunshiny happy it was hard to be wistful and sad.

For your birthday we had a big party - with 30 of our family and friends who came over to our house to celebrate the day you came into this world. You had so much fun, toddling around the living room or on the back deck while Daddy barbecued. You received TONS of presents - lots of trucks - and a few outfits (with overalls! Mommy loves little boys in overalls!)...what a spoiled little boy you are!

I made chocolate cupcakes with blue icing and you LOVED the icing - not surprised - but just picked at the cupcake.

We were all exhausted after the big bash - you napped for nearly 2 hours - and I went for a rest too!

These past 52 weeks have been riddled with ups and downs, but, obviously, mostly ups - the highest of highs, the best of the bestests is what you've brought to mine and daddy's life.

We can't get enough of your giggles, your kisses, your (mostly gummy) smile or your "Mum-Mums" and "Da-das"...you're like the most wonderful drug, the most wonderful high we've ever been on (SAY NO TO DRUGS!).

Your personality it bursting with an inquisitiveness that boggles my mind, with a yearning to touch, taste, drop, pinch, shake, push, and smell (like mommy) EVERYTHING...and when we say "no", you smile and do it anyway...you bugger. But I can't really blame you, this world and everything in it IS completely new to you.

We've spent a few adventurous days at the cottage and you've loved every moment, as I hoped you would. You love pushing an old train - that Uncle-Cousin Ray Ray got on his first birthday - around the cottage or on the grass. You love the water, waving your little hand or pulling me deeper and deeper...no fear...none.

You're eating everything now and loved your first taste of GG's homemade pesto - woah, you love that stuff! You also loved the spaghetti I made, so much so you wanted seconds!

Speaking of food, you were - thankfully - off the bottle weeks before your birthday...I was so proud of you, but sad at the same time. Check another milestone off the list, add another check to the Boy Category.

Every day I see a little less baby and a little more boy in your (still) grey-brown-blue eyes. The roundness of your face and the overall baldness of your head has been replaced with the Johnson pointy chin, a full head of dirty blonde hair, long eye lashes and two bottom teeth.

Happy first birthday, Noah. May you have many, many, many more celebrations and live a long, happy life full of big joys and little sorrow. May you continue to be inquisitive and yearn to know everything about this big, giant world.

Mommy loves you, now, always and forever.

"As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."

Love,

Mommy

xoxox

365 days ago...

On the eve of Noah's first birthday I can't help but reflect on where I was and what I was doing at this time, one year ago.

I was at the West Parry Sound Health Centre, it was a Friday and I was being induced.

Probably around now, Tony and I were walking the halls. From my labour room, past the permanent "residents", past the little coffee shop, to the front doors and back. I would stop every now and again - contractions - I'd rub my belly, lean on Tony and groan.

I sent my Mom home at around 12:30 a.m.

Tony and I settled into the tiny, single bed ready to "rest".

I remembered I hadn't taken out my contacts. I got out of bed, stood up and my water broke all over the floor.

"Call the nurse," I said and bolted to the toilet.

Tony called the nurse, then called my Mom.

That's when things got rocking and rolling.

All through the long (and lonely) night, I was in hard labour.

A wet face cloth on my forehead, in my mouth between my teeth, on my face, on my arms, was my friend. I remember gripping and pulling on the plastic handles of the bed, sure with the next one I'd rip the sucker right off.

I moaned and breathed - I remember the nurse coming in at one point saying: "I'm going to have to get to you slow your breathing down." Fuck you, I wanted to say.

It wasn't until about 3 a.m. that I asked for something. When they offered me an epidural or morphine, I was surprised.

I opted for morphine, something to take the "top" off the contractions. It seemed to take FOREVER for my doctor to get his ass into my room and okay the drugs and by the time they gave it to me, it took doubly forever for it to kick in.

I don't remember much else of that night or day, just sleeping - dozing actually - through each contraction, some that came back to back to back to back.

By 10 a.m. the next morning - Saturday, September 13 - my doctor checked me and said I was okay to start pushing.

And fucking...push...I...did...for FIVE hours.

That's right. Five. Hours.

I pushed on my back, on my hands and knees. I pushed squatting on the floor...with my feet nearly behind my ears...I was a pushing machine!

But alas, it was all in vain. Something was wrong. Noah was in the wrong placement at the right time.

Facing sideways, facing up - I don't remember - but whatever way he was facing, it was wrong for exiting my vagina.

And when the doctor could do no more - after trying to vacuum him out and accidentally breaking a blood vessel (that required a stitch and me screaming at him "WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!) and giving me horrifyingly strong petocin - he told me I would have to have a c-section.

A. C-section.

And then I cried.

I cried and my Mom left the room.

I cried into to Tony's arms - sobbing, choking...wracking sobs of defeat, exhaustion and disappointment.

But by the time they wheeled me into the operating room - some 30 minutes to an hour later - my tears had dried and I was EXCITED...but scared.

There I lay on my back, being rolled into a cold, bright, white room with huge lights - I thought I was dying.

My doctor numbed me from the waist down and I was hooked up to a dozen machines.

I asked for good music, made jokes about the junky classical they had playing and told my doctor that I forgot I was getting a baby out of this...

And a baby I did.

As soon as I heard the wee boy's cry, I looked at Tony and we both began to cry.

Noah was taken to a table just beyond my view and I could barely choke out the words, telling Tony to leave me and go to him.

He cried and cried my little boy, but as soon as they brought him to me, and he heard my voice say, "you're so BIG!" he stopped.

Happy first birthday my special, wonderful, captivating one.

It's been one heck of a year.

What I've Learned

Children, no matter their age - surprisingly (to me anyway) - want to spend time with their parents.

They want them to be involved with their lives, to talk with, share with, and to learn from.

No matter his age I hope that Noah always feels loved by both Tony and I. I want him to know he can come to us with anything - no matter how deep he's gotten himself into shit - and we will still love him - just as much.

I want him to know he can confide in us, ask us (any) questions, bounce ideas off of, share his hopes and dreams with...I hope I can adequately show him that we are his soft place to fall - always.

I never want him to feel like an outsider in his own family...

Mama Paranoia

Today was the first time - out of the last 4 - that Noah cried when I dropped him off at The Sitter.

Does that mean that she's abusing/traumatizing/neglecting my baby, or am I just being paranoid?

I hope it's the latter.

Dear Noah - 11 Months

Dear Noah,

Okay, listen sweetie, honestly, the joke's over....for heaven's sake, please stop growing...immediately!

You are eleven. Months. Old...in four weeks you'll be one year old - one year.

Just yesterday your Daddy was backing up (the millions of) videos he and I have taken of you since the day you were born and I thanked him for capturing nearly every moment and milestone of your life. Although I balked in the beginning (I still do if my hair's a mess and I'm not wearing a stitch of make-up) of him videotaping (your hiccups, your chatter, your crawling and bath time antics) I'm so happy to have them to look back on. I think you'll even get a kick out of them when you're older - especially the one video where we caught you "discovering" yourself in the tub.

Two major milestone stones have rocked your world this past month. The first being your first step!

When you were just 10 months and one-week old you took four whole steps to Aunt Tuffy who was visiting us from Tennessee. She was just tickled pink to have been the very first person you walked to!

And since then you haven't stopped. Now that's not to say that you stopped crawling altogether, no, you still do that, but when you think no one's looking or you forget that you're actually standing you'll just wander a couple of steps before plopping on to your bum.

You've become more confident on your feet; needing something to steady your self before you let go and stand...stand....stand!

And now, you've been stepping and walking...actually....walking. It's honestly a marvel to witness!

On August 11, I watched (and held my breath - honestly!) as you walked 12 steps before falling on your face. You cried - I think more in frustration than anything else - and we called Daddy on the phone to tell him what you'd just accomplished.

And surprise, surprise, he said he'd be video taping you and following you around the house like the paparazzi or TMZ as soon as he got home...

And just days later, when you officially turned 11 months we captured you walking all over the house! Steps upon steps, upon steps you walked through the kitchen and the living room....we were so PROUD!

The other milestone you've reached are the two teeth that started to poke through at the same time! They're about a quarter of the way through and they're so cute to see!

Speaking of teeth, you're pretty much eating everything we are now - except for the crunchy, hard or chewy stuff (that you're not allowed to eat yet) - and you LOVE it! There's not too much that you won't eat or try - I hope you stay this way - yeah right!

In July Daddy and I took you to the beach where you and I went "swimming". You actually tried to get out of my arms so you could do it all by yourself - you've got no fear!

You love, love, LOVE it! You splashed and smiled up at me like this was the greatest thing in the world - a giant bathtub for you to play in!

Afterwards the three of us shared a blue freezie on a towel in the grass under the shade of a tree...it was an awesome family moment.

You've also spent a few days here and there with the babysitter, which has been tougher on you than me. I've struggled to find things to occupy my time when you're not here, but I know it's good for both of us. So that when I go back to work, neither of us will be missing the other - too much!

You're first birthday is right around the corner. I've had to restrain myself from going CRAZY with decorations and such. We've decided on an animal/jungle theme. We'll be having a barbecue at the house with just a few (30) family and friends.

I'm making homemade chocolate cupcakes (and arranging them into the shape of a number 1) with (blue) buttercream icing...I hope you like them.

I'm looking forward to your birthday as much as I'm dreading it - after all, the day after I've got to go back to work!

Love,

Mommy

xoxoxo

Day 1 at The Sitter

Today Noah went to The Sitter - a first for both of us.

I go back to work in a month and want him (and I) to get accustomed to the (drastic) change in routine.

The whole two-minute walk there I gave myself a pep talk, it'll be good for Noah, it'll be good for me too, I'll get some time to myself during the day, maybe take a nap...none of it made a lick of difference, as soon as I walked through the door, I wanted to BOLT; run-the-hell-away.

Run away from this woman who would surly feed him cheesies and Pepsi as soon as I left. A woman who'd slap him around, leave him in a shitty and/or wet diaper all day long and let him watch General Hospital (now the Y&R, that would be totally acceptable, he can't get enough of Victor Newman, and who can blame him?).

I handed Noah over to her (he totally didn't want to go) and then I was the one who bolted, covering my mouth with my hand, choking back the tears.

I cried all the way home. Called The Lover and sobbed into the phone; blubbering about how I missed him already and this would be the LONGEST day of my LIFE (longer than 36 hours of labour? Surely).

Funny thing was. He was fine and so was I. The day flew by and I found that no matter how much I enjoyed myself, I felt as if I was constantly missing that little person that has been practically attached to my hip for nearly the last eleven months (where'd the last TEN go?).

When I went to pick him up (ten minutes early), he smiled at me - as if to say, "Shit woman, I honestly thought you'd left me here for good! Damn, it's so good to see you!"

Although the sitter remarked at how much Noah loves to eat, he did not eat cheesies or drink Pepsi...he was perfect, he smelled funny, like someone else's house, but he was perfect.

As soon as I got home, I promptly changed his clothes and nuzzled my face in his neck inhaling his sent...I then resisted the urge to eat him...it was hard.