Isabella turned 14 months old yesterday.
But what I like most about this age is the fact that I think she understands me much of the time. She may not always like what I'm saying (in fact, most of the time, I'm certain she doesn't), but I know she hears and can comprehend a lot of things. And being able to communicate with her (even if this communication is most often entirely one-sided) makes life so much easier.
And between last month and this month, a very, very sad milestone occurred in her life, and in mine.
The morning nap I was clinging to with unabashed desperation? It is gone. Gone, baby, gone. And while I'm sure she is thrilled, because she wasn't really sleeping in her crib during her morning naptime anyway in the last month, I am decidedly unthrilled. My entire schedule is now out of whack. I have had a very ordered little universe of treadmill time, shower time, work time, and picking-up-the-explosion-of-baby-toys time for the last 10 months that Isabella has been on her two-nap schedule. And now, I'm trying to figure out how to get everything done with only one short (1.5 to 2-hour) naptime break per day.
Isabella will now attempt to say most words I say, when she's asked to repeat them. This has resulted in hours of hilarity for me, as being along with a toddler for 12 hours a day with no adults to talk to often makes me punch-drunk towards the end.
For example, did you know that I named my daughter "Bawa," and that she loves to play with "bowels" (balls)?
The tiny temper that emerged last month, and which I previously viewed as a minor annoyance, and more funny than anything else is now...decidedly not funny at all. My daughter has developed her father's temper and her mother's minuscule level of patience. Combined, these two character flaws form a volatile combination. Isabella throws her toys, sippy cup, shoes, or whatever else is in reach when she's angry, and will put her head to the ground and sob her eyes out for the most minor of injustices.
And last week, she hit me. Oh yes, my sweet, adorable baby whose relatives would tell you walks on water hauled off and slapped her mother. In public.
We were in our local library's playroom. I meet two friends and their daughters there every Wednesday morning. It was time to go, and Isabella wanted to stay. I picked up her thrashing body, bent down to grab the diaper bag, and WHAM. She slapped me hard, on the side of my face, right by my eyes. So hard, in fact, that tears sprang to my eyes, while my friends and their angelic babies who most certainly are not future felons, stared in horror.
I was totally shocked, and high-tailed it out of there as quickly as possible.
Of course, my grandmother believes my face simply got in the way of an exuberant hand gesture.
But other than the First-Degree Assault in the Library Incident, Isabella's development is more entertaining than it is painful.
She has progressed from stumbling around like a drunkard a few months ago to walking really well, and even half-running at times. She now has her first pair of real shoes, which she will wear for approximately 2.5 months and cost more than any pair of shoes in my own closet. Baby shoes are a freakin' racket.
The watering can (see photo below) is her favorite toy now, and she's constantly carrying it around the house with her, asking to "dupe-dupe" (her words for watering flowers and plants), which she would do all day long, if I let her.
She absolutely loves opening cabinets and drawers, and taking out their contents.
And she's making animal noises now too. She knows "baa" for sheep and "mow" for cats.
But what I like most about this age is the fact that I think she understands me much of the time. She may not always like what I'm saying (in fact, most of the time, I'm certain she doesn't), but I know she hears and can comprehend a lot of things. And being able to communicate with her (even if this communication is most often entirely one-sided) makes life so much easier.
Oh, and since I know you're wondering. No teeth still.
(Note to self: Google "counseling services for toothless kindergartners").
She certainly does not *look* like a future felon in those photos!
I can already see that I will share this sort of frustration in the future. Patience is NOT one of my virtues. And tiny tots seem to require a saint's dose of patience.
Happy 14 months, Isabella!
Our personality flaws really do come to visit us via our kids, don't they? MrMan has my temper and lack of patience.
And, yes, those shoe prices! We went to buy shoes this past weekend and I was totally upfront with the salesperson about choosing the shoes that we did because they were on sale.
They do seem to get the worst of us sometimes, as is evident in all three of mine. I'm convinced it's punishment for something I did long ago, although I will tell you I was a model child. Seriously.
She's super-cute though! ;-)
I know I shouldn't laugh at the library incident, but I can't help myself!
Happy 14 months, cutie!
I am with you on the baby shoes. I spend more on Fly than I do myself.
And he gave up his morning nap a couple months ago. I mourned it, too, until I realized this means we can go and do fun stuff in the morning and I don't have to worry about a meltdown in a public place, because Fly can't seem to fall asleep without one.
And he also loves the watering can! It's almost like Fly and Isabella have some psychic connection. I only hope he doesn't hit me now....
Isabella is so cute!
Love the photo in the pumpkin patch!
Sorry to be so late, but Happy 14 Months!! I also laughed at the library incident--and immediately assumed she hit you "by mistake". :):) Hey, I was a biter! It caused my mom no end of embarassment. I didn't bite her, but I sure left an imprint on other kids. Now that's assault and battery!