There is no November 31st, so Lucy doesn’t technically have a half-birthday. So, sometime in the past few days, Lucy turned 18 months old.
First off, her stats from her pediatrician visit: she’s 32.5 inches tall (75th percentile), 27 pounds (85th percentile), and her head is off the charts. Both of my girls take after me, I’m afraid. Y’all will never be able to pull off hats – sorry, babies.
Meanwhile, her hair is epic.
Sometimes I can take to it with a Knot Genie and some No More Tangles and get it under control. And then it looks adorable.
It also lasts about five minutes before it looks like that first picture again. Sigh.
We are nowhere near being done with the bottle. I know. I KNOW. The pediatrician has already lectured me about this that we need to ditch the bottle soon, because the longer I let her keep it, the harder it will be down the road.
And I admit that this is an area where I’m weak. She stands at the refrigerator and screams, “Ba-ba!!” And I cave every time. Because I am a single mom, and I am exhausted, and there are two of them and only one of me, and look, let’s face it: the path of least resistance is often the path that I choose.
Honestly, pediatrician lectures aside? I just don’t care. If she still has the bottle in kindergarten, I’ll start to worry. I just cannot even fathom trying to tackle that one right now.
Also, if there was any concern that maybe she’s drinking too much milk and not eating enough “real” food? HAAAAA. Girlfriend eats everything. I cannot give her enough fruits and vegetables. Her normal breakfast is often a tomato or a pile of steamed broccoli. Yes, that’s weird, but she asks for it and I’ll be damned if I’m going to say no.
I figure that probably in a year or two, she’s going to refuse all healthy foods and live on a diet of hot dogs and air, so I’ll just load her up with all of the vegetables that she wants right now, and figure that it’ll all balance out in the end.
My parents are still her favorite people in the world, but so is her big sister. Every morning when she comes to get me, the next thing she says is, “Catie night-night?” Yes, baby, Catie is still going night-night. She’ll imitate me with her finger to her lips when I say, “Shhhhh!” so she doesn’t wake her big sister. We’ll head downstairs and turn on cartoons. Pretty soon Catie wakes up and we’ll all pile on the couch together.
I love those few minutes of cuddling with both of them before we have to start getting ready for work/school/daycare.
I’m sure I’ve griped about it plenty, but the past few months have been really rough with Lucy and sleeping. I don’t know why, but she just cannot seem to sleep through the night anymore. I’m now working on sleep training her all over again, which is difficult. I spend a lot of time sitting in the hall, dozing off while leaning against the door of the linen closet.
It’s rough. And there are lots of tears on both of our parts. But hopefully we’ll get through this quickly.
I don’t know how to sum up how funny she is, but man. My mom said she once read an article about birth order, and it talked about how oldest children are often serious, cautious, and work hard in school (which is accurate for both Catie and my sister). And the second child is the “performer” – the article had a photo of a toddler in a top hat with a cane, and my mom said she laughed because that was exactly like me when I was a kid.
So in that sense? Lucy is pretty much my replica. She loves to entertain us by making faces and jokes and just being silly and wacky. Which is pretty much exactly like her mama.
(Granted, I don’t usually run around naked wearing only 3D glasses. Anymore.)
(Or at least, if I do, you won’t find pictures of it on the Internet.)
She got sick over Thanksgiving (sinus infection), and it was bad because she was trying so hard to still be our little entertainer, but she could only do it for a little while before she’d collapse in tears. It was rough. Luckily she’s all better now. And thank goodness, because I really missed my little goofball.
Happy half-birthday, Lucy-goose. I can’t wait to see what comes next.