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Cate is 19 months old today. I feel like I need to write a milestone recap, but at the same time, I think I’ve been writing an awful lot about her lately and how she’s been coping (or not) with the move. So instead, just a few quick & random funnies:

* She’s starting to put words together to make complete thoughts, which is pretty awesome. Like, when Dave picked her up and she wasn’t in the mood to be picked up, she said, “No no no! Go down!” And yesterday, I was buckling her into her car seat so we could go to the grocery store, and it was drizzling. She said, “Mommy, wa-wa!” I’m not sure if she was saying, “hey mommy, look at the water [rain]!” Or she might’ve been pointing out that mommy was getting covered in water, which I was. Either way, she was accurate and it was pretty cool.

* I mentioned a while ago the story about how Cate said “doggy” over and over when getting out of the bathtub, and I thought it was just some sort of imaginary play? Well, she’s been doing it every night after her bath, and she usually points at some empty space on the bathroom wall when she’s saying “doggy.” I couldn’t figure it out - imagination? a spot on the wallpaper that looks like a dog? can she hear one of the neighbors’ dogs outside?

Last night it clicked. She’s pointing at the toilet paper and saying doggy, because she loves the puppy on the toilet paper packaging. Every time she follows me into our bathroom, she always goes straight for the cellophane package of T.P. and talks to the little doggy on it. I was pretty impressed by the fact that she figured out that the roll of toilet paper on the wall comes out of the package with the puppy on it. Smart girl.

I mean, I’m not thrilled that the folks over at Kimberly-Clark Corporation have figured out how to market their products to toddlers, but you know, whatever. At least she isn’t asking me for Bratz dolls yet. (And if she ever does: sorry kiddo, no way.)

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Last week, Dave signed us up for a membership to our local YMCA. We both want to work out, plus they have a pool, and all kinds of classes (both for us and for Cate when she gets older). The gym also has a drop-in nursery, which is convenient so Dave and I can work out at the same time.

We decided to try it out last night, but based on how clingy and mommy-centric Cate’s been lately, I was fully expecting her to wig out the second we tried to leave her in the nursery. I told the ladies in charge of the nursery what part of the gym we’d be in, and we snuck out when Cate was distracted playing with some toy cars.

Dave walked on the treadmill while I did the elliptical cross-trainer, but the entire time I was working out, I kept looking around for gym employees (they wear red t-shirts, easy to spot). I was sure that they were going to come find us and tell us to collect our inconsolable, distraught toddler. They never did.

After our workout, we went back to the nursery, and although Cate was obviously really happy to see us, they said that she had been totally happy and fine the entire time. Not a single tear was shed when she realized we were gone. Huh. Whaddya know. I guess the combination of other kids plus unfamiliar toys plus pretty, young nursery attendants (have I mentioned that Cate has a fetish for teenage girls? It’s kind of hilarious) equaled one heck of a good time for her.

Oh, as for me, this was the first time I’d worked out in a gym since I was pregnant, and I am soooore today. Carrying Cate up and down the stairs is probably going to kill me before the day is over. But I’m proud of myself for doing as much as I did. Now let’s see if I keep it up.

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I think yesterday we saw the worst of Cate’s cold. She was basically having one continuous asthma attack all day long, poor kiddo. We were giving her the maximum amount of albuterol that we could, and she was still miserable. She seems a lot better today; she’s still a little wheezy, but she’s been playing and laughing and acting more like her normal self.

There’s something I want to ask you guys, just to see if there’s any knowledge out there that can help: has anyone ever experienced toddler panic attacks? That appears to be what we’re dealing with in regards to Cate’s sleeping issues. If I walk anywhere close to her crib while I’m holding her, she starts whimpering and shaking, and she clamps onto me as if her life depends on it. I used to be able to put her down while she was still awake, turn on her CD and leave the room, and she didn’t make even a peep of objection. Now, she can be all the way asleep, but when I move her to her crib, if she wakes up enough to realize that she’s in the crib, she will force herself to wake up all the way and WIG. OUT.

I don’t know how to describe it, this goes way beyond normal crying or a standard-issue tantrum. She shakes with terror, she tries to climb the rails of her crib and she howls like she’s scared to death. It tears my heart out, I can’t stand to listen to it. A coupe of times we’ve tried to let her cry it out, but either Dave or I always cave and end up going to get her. (I do realize that going to get her totally defeats the purpose, because all we’re doing is teaching her that if she screams long enough, Mommy or Daddy will eventually come get her, but I challenge you to come sit in my house and try to listen to that screaming for more than 10 minutes.)

Stuff I’ve tried: I’ve made sure that a good portion of her toys are in her room, and we spend a fair amount of time in there playing, trying to get her more comfortable in her new room. Also, she has a nightlight and an air filter for white noise, same as she had at the old house.

I’ve noticed that this doesn’t only apply to her crib. She’s also now terrified of the vacuum cleaner, which is a new development. (And seriously, she’s never had any traumatic encounters with the vacuum, so I can’t imagine where this came from.) The other night we got the vacuum out, and she started shaking and saying, “all done! all done!!” over and over, before I had even plugged the thing in. When she realized I was the one who was going to use the vacuum, she reached for Dave and basically tried to climb up him. She’s like one of the cats.

We met with a new pediatrician on Thursday, and when I mentioned this, he kind of brushed me off with the “yeah, all kids are different, takes them different amounts of time to adjust to new environments, blah blah blah”. I don’t think he really “got” how bad it is.

It’s upsetting to me because she’s always been a very cautious child, the type who needs to think something over for a while before she’ll decide to try it. But she seems to have gone from cautious to outright fearful, and it kills me because I feel like this is our fault for uprooting her world and causing all of this insecurity. Of course, there isn’t anything we can do about it now. I suppose I’m just wishing that we had made this move a year ago, before she was quite so aware of her environment. But I don’t really know where to go from here, so if any of y’all have any advice, let me have it.

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A few days ago, I was chatting with my across-the-street neighbor and I asked her if she knew of any good pediatricians nearby. I was really thinking that it would be good to have a name handy in case Cate had an asthma flare-up, but I guess my psychic abilities were kicking in. Because Cate is now sick. Again.

The drippy nose started on Tuesday, and I started her steroid inhaler that day as a preventative (which is what the pediatrician back in Washington told us to do). She hasn’t had any asthma attacks and seems overall to be in pretty good spirits. But the congestion is now at “good grief, child, how did that much gunk come out of that tiny little nose??” levels, so I’m glad we have an appointment this afternoon. She’s rubbed her ears a couple of times, which might just be congestion, but with her history of ear infections, I’d like to get that checked out to be safe.

Oh, and I woke up with a scratchy throat today too. Gah.

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I’m starting this post at 11 p.m., and little Miss Cate is still wiiiiide awake. I know I’ve said it before, but this midnight bedtime thing is driving us crazy. It could be worse, of course - she’s running around happy and playing, and it would be a lot worse if she was having meltdowns every night. But instead it’s just kaboing-kaboing-kaboing, happy happy, play play play, run run run… and we’re like, dude, chill the heck out and go to SLEEP already.

We went over to Cat & Tony’s for burgers (mmm, burgers) on Friday night, and they came over for dinner tonight. I don’t know when the novelty is going to wear off, but I get such a kick out of watching Cate and e-baby interact with each other. It’s so funny to watch what they pick up on. Cate’s learned a couple of new words/signs just in the past few days (all animals: frog, goat, rabbit), and I think the signing might be partially attributable to being around another kid who signs. (Maybe also because Cate’s currently obsessed with the “Leah’s Farm” Signing Time DVD and asks for it over and over. The songs on the DVD are now stuck in my head round-the-clock, and they’re cute little tunes and all, but OMG, ENOUGH already.)

Anyway, it’s funny to watch the two girls play with (or next to) each other. They even gave each other a kiss as e-baby was leaving tonight. It was more like they bumped their faces into each other, but still, SO cute.

Ok. 12:30 a.m. Cate finally went to sleep about 5 minutes ago. Lord Jesus help me.

P.S. Forgive the subject line. I can’t stand Eric Clapton, but I’m exhausted and it’s all I could think of.

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Ok for real, how long does it take a toddler to get on a normal sleep schedule after a huge event like moving to a new house? Because we are seriously about to lose our minds here.

Cate seems to think that midnight is her new bedtime. And she can’t fall asleep on her own at all, we have to cuddle with her until she’s sound asleep, then quietly transfer her to her crib. Same goes for naptime during the day. I’m so tired that I’m having trouble finishing a train of thought or even a full sentence.

I know I said that I was going to wait on letting her cry it out, but sometime after midnight the other night, I gave up. We had cuddled with her on the couch for over an hour, we had tried lying in bed with her in between us, and nothing was working. So I put her in her crib, turned on her Baby Mozart CD, and left the room. She was standing up in her crib wailing for me, and I walked out and closed the door. Way to feel heartless. Then I lay down next to Dave in our bed and cried. I felt completely helpless, and totally incompetent as a mother. She only cried for maybe 10 or 15 minutes before she fell asleep, but it was awful.

(For the record, I know I’m not incompetent. These are just the thoughts you have when you’re exhausted in the middle of the night.)

Last night ended up working out rather well. Cate had only taken a 20-minute nap yesterday (no fun for mama, I assure you), so she collapsed at the not-quite-but-almost-normal time of 9:45. And she didn’t make a peep until after 8:30 this morning. So that was lovely.

But this had better not mean that she’s weaning herself off of naps altogether. My mom says that my brother and I both stopped napping when we were about 18 months old. (We were sleeping 12 hours a night, so we were getting enough sleep, but we were done with naps totally.) And right now, naptime is the only time of day that I get any productive work done around the house, so I’m not ready to give it up just yet.

Speaking of which, I have seriously got to get back to work. My current job has sort of dried up lately, they haven’t had a new project for me since June, and I am not cut out to be a full-time stay-at-home mom. Also, judging by the way Cate explodes with utter glee anytime the neighbor kids are outside, I think she misses being able to play with other kids on a regular basis too. So I’m going to be looking for some more part-time work-from-home tech writing gigs. I think it’ll be good for everyone.

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I’ve been meaning to write a post about how Cate is adapting to the new house, but the thing is… I don’t really know. It’s hard to tell with 18 month-olds. I can tell you that her sleep patterns are seriously messed up right now, and I think that has a lot to do with most of the tantrums we’ve been getting lately. Generally she’s been pretty happy, but her meltdowns have been much bigger than they were, say, a month ago. I’m not sure if that’s her age (starting the terrible two’s early), if it’s the lack of sleep, or if it’s the move. Probably all three. But when she’s happy, it’s great.

And then last night she stayed up until almost midnight, which was pretty horrendous. She still can’t seem to go down in her crib on her own, but I think that’s fine for right now. I’m not going to push the crying-it-out issue for at least a couple of weeks.

I have made one pretty huge gaffe, though. We’ve been careful to avoid talking about Patsy or the other kids at daycare unless she says their names, because I think there’s no need to bring it up and upset her. We did the same thing when we were staying with my folks in Mississippi - no one was allowed to say the word “Daddy” because it inevitably led to tears.

(Btw, I took a bunch of pictures of the kids at daycare before we left, and I finally got around to copying them off my camera today. You can go see them in this set, if you’re interested.)

(Another btw: before we moved, I gave Patsy and her daughter the URL for this site, so if you’re reading this, hi!)

So last night, I was getting Cate out of the bathtub and drying her off, and she started saying “doggy” over and over. She does this sometimes, talks about an animal that’s nowhere in sight, and usually I just roll with it. “Oh really, a doggy? Does the doggy say, ‘woof woof’? What color is the doggy?” etc.

And this is where I goofed up: I said, “Is the doggy’s name Shiloh?” Shiloh is one of Patsy’s dogs, and Cate loooved him. She called him Shi-boh. I should’ve known better than to say his name, I don’t know what I was thinking. Poor Cate’s eyes went huge and she stared at me for a few seconds, like she was trying to place exactly what Shiloh meant, then she remembered, and she frantically started signing and saying “shoes! shoes!” over and over. Like we were going to go get in the car and drive over to Patsy’s house to see Shiloh. So I said, “No, sweetheart, no shoes. It’s time to put on our PJ’s and get ready to go night-night.” And oh, the tears. There were many, many tears.

I think the moral of that story is that I’m an idiot who unnecessarily traumatized my child. The end.

Overall, though, things have been really good so far. We really like North Carolina, Dave likes his office, and the weather has been mercifully mild for the past couple of days, so we’ve been putting Cate in the stroller and going for little family walks in the evening. (Lovely except for the damn mosquitoes.) This is a really beautiful neighborhood and the people are unbelievably friendly. I’ve already met four other moms, and countless kids. Two boys came over yesterday to show us where a mama turtle buried her eggs in our front yard. So at least I’ll know what they’re doing when random kids show up to investigate a mound of dirt near our driveway.

Oh, and living in the suburbs where there are like 5 different grocery stores plus a Wal-Mart, a Target, and several restaurants (both fast food and sit-down) within a couple of miles of me? And having city water and sewer? And cable instead of satellite? LOVE. IT.

Sorry there haven’t been any pictures of the new house yet. It’s kind of embarassing to take pictures of the place when it’s covered in boxes. So for now, you’ll have to settle for pictures of our cute, tiny backyard.

We could mow that sucker in like 15 minutes. It’s awesome.

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