1st Article of Clothing

I might have started this dress before Esme was born, not even sure. I stopped when the snaps on shoulder pushed my presser foot off the edge and I could never get that dang biased tape on.  For some reason this Sunday, I decided to get it done before church.

Sorry, the pictures are blurry.  This will be the first of many dresses.  She was soooo cute Sunday.  I seriously look at her and wonder how she came from me.  

Esme at 2

This girl is finding her voice.  "Sit here, give me that, my turn, candy, stop!"  So independent and full of ideas.  If she decides she wants something, she yells immediately instead of asking a couple of times and then resorting to yells.  Like yesterday when she wanted "Wheels on the Bus" to play on repeat even though our crusty old CD player doesn't have that fancy option.  It was worth the two minutes of peace for me to run in her room after it ended each time.  Since her birthday she's been loving her "learning tower" (a railed in steppy stool) to raise to the counter to help cook.

Brian thought I was dumb for buying a $75 used step stool.  But she loves it. I usually put her in charge of adding things like pepper and sesame seeds into sauces or cutting soft things with a butter knife. But the other day she insisted on making her own lunch which ended up being a traumatized piece of bread soaked in peanut oil.

She also loves her backpack.  I put it on her Sunday with a few toys and she almost fell backwards with the weight, then she compensated and hunched forward like a granny to walk before taking a rest. 

She also had the fun idea to lay in her doll's crib and went along with Eli's even better idea to push her around the house.

One more pound and she might've fallen out the bottom. Oh yes!  We switched to a new pediatrician nearby and she was not even stressed at the 19 lb 1 oz fully dressed two year old!  She asked tons of developmental questions and said her growth curve chart looks fine and if anything we should not get too crazy with the butter and even mentioned we could switch to 2% milk.  She ended by saying "See you next year," not, "How many calories a day has she been eating, what did the dietician say, I'm sending you to this specialist next, lets get her blood drawn for these other tests, have you been cramming the unnecessary medicine down her throat?" okay, maybe not realistic wording on that last one.

Yesterday at the playground she melted me when she was swinging on a bar and said "duper  fun." She melts Brian after he reaches the end of a level on Super Mario and says "gimme five" and "good job."  Oh and books. All of a sudden she can sit down for half an hour with a book. And she prefers the regular, hard-to-turn pages.  And every morning I know she's awake when I hear her soft little voice singing "E-i-e-i-o."

2

It was a quiet day with all our attention turned to Esme.  I came up with the cutest outfit I could find in her mostly second-hand wardrobe and we were off.  Everywhere we went (bookstore to play trains, pet store, restaurant, toy store) I told the people it was her birthday.  Eli had school, so just the two of us went out for breakfast. The nice lady turned our single order of french toast into two with one cut up in small pieces.

I can see how she thought the syrup was a drink.

Her only two wishes were to play trains and for a purple cake.  I accidentally dropped half of the food coloring in, so it was quite a neon purple. And, of course, she didn't eat any.

Happy Birthday little one.  You fill us with joy.

Scrawny Pants

Cystic Fibrosis sweat test in May.
I felt like a slave driver making her climb stairs. 

Well, she doesn't look skinny in two outfits covered with two snow suits.  Yesterday she was weighed, 17lb 5 oz at 19 1/2 months. Her first time slowing from her own growth curve that I noticed to be 1 pound/quarter.  Her blood and sweat tests all came back normal.  So I figured we were free and clear.  After the results came back our doctor said she wants her to go to all the specialists (pediatric dietitian, gastroenterologist, and endocrinologist) again, even though they went over her test results and said they think she's fine. I put my foot down, canceled the appointment for the dietitian and decided I was done with her ideas.  If there was no underlying condition causing her skinniness and she is thriving the way she is (full of energy, growing taller, above developmental milestones for her age) why do we have to force her on to the growth curve of anglo, formula-fed babies?

Brian got a second opinion from one of the many martial arts parents that is a doctor. She said that between the ages of 1 and 2 is a crucial time of development for the brain, especially the white matter which is largely made from lipids. This made more sense to me. My doctor has never said why she's so concerned with her weight and I've never asked why, assuming she just wants her to gain weight to gain weight. So yesterday I kind of apologized to her for my little fit and agreed to take her to the dietitian, wrangle her down twice a day to administer some antihistamine that hopefully will have the side effect of increased appetite after a couple of months, and count every calorie that goes in her mouth.  Thank goodness for the kitchen scale.

Deep down, I really think there's nothing wrong with Esme. I keep remembering a medical study I heard about where the doctor would ask the mother if she thought there was something wrong with her child and 96% of the time the mom was right.  But I can't base her care on my opinions, and what kind of mother would I be if I wasn't trying my hardest.

220 calorie lunch today. Pretty good. All rules have gone out the door.  She doesn't have to eat what we eat, she doesn't have to be in her seat, and she can eat off of our plates.  She starts out in her seat.  Gets down after a few bites, and I follow her around with bites.  I hide all vegetables until she's done eating, or she'll just whine for our salad. She basically eats carbs (rice, noodles, bread) dripping with butter, eggs smothered in cheese, and the cream from the top of the whole milk yogurt. She's been bad about drinking until this week I realized she will drink milk almost endlessly if she has her own big girl cup. It's scary to watch, mainly because spills mess up my measurements. Sometimes I think if her and I could just switch bodies for a couple weeks.  I would get nice and skinny, she would get plump... and this place would be a mad house.  After this paragraph I think I might actually be going crazy.

18 Months

Last Tuesday Esme turned months.  I didn't make her a present or even do a photoshoot.  Oops.  We just sang to her at 7:43 and had cake.  Eli decided that she would like brown cake with pink frosting.  She only wanted to eat the cream cheese frosting and feed us the cake.

At her check-up we found out she's only 17 pounds and that the doctor wants her to get some tests, BLOOD TESTS and a sweat test for cystic fibrosis, done and to see an endocrinologist.  If everything is fine, then she will accept that she's just small.  She doesn't need her to be on the same growth curve as other kids, she just wants her line, much below theirs, to go up at the same rate.  I think she has her  own growth rate.  Since she was 6 months old, she's gained exactly one pound every three months.

18 months also meant that today was her first day in nursery at church.  Of course I got teary, of course she did fine, and of course I took pictures when I went to pick her up.

Having a Sibling

Enjoying her first lolly pop ever...

Enter brother.... 

The other day Eli did something to make Esme cry, like he does several times a day, and I picked her up for a hug and said "I'm sorry, sometimes it's hard having a big brother."  Eli chimed in from his time out corner in the other room "and it's hard having a baby."

I never thought about it from his perspective.  Now at least once a day he tells me why it's hard having a baby around the house.  She makes messes, breaks things, doesn't share.

Yesterday we had a breakthrough.  Sharing is one of his struggles and he painfully handed a toy that he liked over to Esme, without getting mad.  When it was time for her to give it back he patiently held out his hand and asked for it. At first she yelled, then she pretended to give it to him a few times, and finally she gave it back.  No force, no tears, no grabbing.  Now we talk about how he can help me teach his little sister.

Wheat Grass Shake

Walking Is Not The Problem

For some reason people say you're in for trouble when your child starts walking.  Totally untrue.  When they start moving-rolling, crawling- that's when the trouble starts.  Walking does not cause any problems, if anything it's extra cute seeing such a little person teetering around. Esme took her first steps the day after Christmas but only walks with assistance, like this grocery cart.

The real danger arises from a newfound desire to climb.  She gets all kinds of places, especially when there's a step stool or big brother there to help. 

This was her idea, and that is the clothes dryer.

She loves electronics.  Access to the laptop got her to take her first steps.  Now she has mastered climbing up the chair to beat up on the mouse and keyboard.  She didn't climb up on the desk this time.

For now I can just keep chairs pushed in and the step stool put away, but soon she'll realize she can get them out to make more mischief. 

Esme These Days

Esme's been growing up so much these days.  It all goes down hill after the first haircut.  Luckily, and obviously,  growing up doesn't necessarily involve getting less cute. Now that she's getting bigger, her friendly personality is coming out more.  Whenever someone compliments her on her distracting adorableness, she always gives them a big smile, like she knows what they're saying. A few weeks ago, she got the ultimate compliment, one I never thought I would actually hear.  The owner/chef of our most-visited Korean restaurant actually said that Esme is cuter than her own little daughter.(!)  I still can't believe she said it, and I don't think it was just so we'd order an appetizer. I could go on about this subject all day, but I'd better move on.

As far as eating goes. I've made a new discovery.  If I get her starving hungry, as in wait an hour or two after she wakes for a meal instead of feeding her right away, she will eat at least twice as much. It's so amazing. She grunts and leans for that buttery cream of wheat like it's the best thing she's ever eaten. And she even LETS ME SPOON FEED HER.  It's pretty much exhilarating when she opens for a greasy bite of mush. "Honey, watch this!" and we both sit back amazed. 

And learning.  The copying has begun. She is speaking so soon, trying to repeat almost any word we emphasize to her. Today, on her own, she said "moe" when her buttery cinnamon cooked apples were gone. Today at church, Esme noticed a wife rubbing her husband's back, so she leaned forward and rubbed his back too.  And a couple of weeks ago, I was spying on the kids during a prayer and realized she was folding her arms! One little hand placed on top of the other. She does it all the time now.  She must be trying to melt us,  just like she's kissing up to the nice people that compliment her. Books are her favorite thing, and books with animals are her most favorite. Especially when we make the silly sounds.  So far she moos like a cow and pants like a puppy. 

Play.  Her favorite hangout is the stairs. Not to use them to go up to her room or down to Eli's. After she melts me during the prayer, and excites me by eating well, she tries to give me a heart attack by climbing on the stairs. I take her up or down and she just gets right back on. When we block them she gets mad. So the second half of dinner I'm usually on the stairs with her and my plate of food. She does love a roudy game of peek-a-boo with her dad, although her tiny hand usually just covers her nose. Brian loves to hold her arms up and point out that her hands barely reach over her head.

We love having this girl around. I can't believe how lucky I am to be with her all day long. She's starting to get a little clingy and I don't even mind, especially since she prefers me to her dad. Sorry Bri.  I always smirk when he has to hand her back. 

Ice

My stubborn, independent Esme has gotten more so. I didn't think it was possible.

 I gave up spoon-feeding her a couple of weeks ago because it was so draining for me. Instead I have to deal with grease smeared all over her and everything in her reach after every self-fed meal of buttered bread, noodles, veggies, or tofu. I realized I must be learning patience, because I was never able to do this with Eli. I can even give Esme a bowl of cream of wheat and a spoon. I try not to watch, but I'm learning to give in to messiness.

But, about spoon-feeding, I tried again just before her 1 year Dr. appointment (and the all-important weigh in) and it was even harder. Impossible. Toys, no toys, letting her feed me while I feed her, following her around the house with a spoon. Nothing worked. She insists on using her own fork, and often prefers to steal my grown-up fork.

There is one exception.  Ice cream. I sit on the floor with a bowl and she crawls up for bites. She also loves ice cubes. At restaurants when she's done eating (and I've just started) and wants to get down and crawl all over the dirty floor I can buy some time by fishing ice cubes out of my cup for her. I've been contemplating freezing milk cubes.

Yesterday, after several hours of freedom and browsing (I will never take browsing for granted again) at Michaels and Tuesday Morning, I came home to my amazing husband who'd done the dishes, made dinner, and had the genius idea to feed Esme half-thawed pear sauce. She thought it was ice cream and let her dad spoon feed her like a normal baby!  What is this infatuation with frigid food?

In related news. The girl, at one year and one week is 28 1/4 inches (21%) tall, 101/2 inch head (0%) and weighed exactly 15 pounds, still 0%, but enough improvement to keep the doctor from worrying more. Woohoo, 14 ounces in 7 weeks!  Although now we have an appointment with a pediatric gastro-intest....inologist or something.

Esme Turns 1

A little swimming, eating out, few presents, and cake. I was excited to try this Korean tradition where you place several objects in front of a baby on their first birthday to see what they grab. Esme grabbed the bracelet, paint brush, and money. Aparently she will be fashion conscious, artistic, and rich. My favorite part of the night was listening to Eli's soft voice as he sang Happy Birthday and watching Esme laugh while Brian played with her.

As for what we know for sure about this girl.

She is so friendly. She reaches out to strangers and if they're nice enough to take her she honks their nose. If she really likes you she'll lick your face, which I have only seen a couple of times.

Adventurous. Not as cautious as her older brother, at least she she thinks about something she wants to do before she does it. Today it was crawling forward toward the play structure into the water as it got deeper and deeper and her face went under.

Easy. The first 6 months were tiring, but now she sleeps 10-12 hours and takes two long naps. She's independent, preferring to crawl around and explore to sitting in my arms. Flexible. She doesn't start whining once it's time to eat or sleep, but waits pretty patiently.

Loves animals and babies. I have to get it on video. This high pitched screech/laugh comes out when she touches a dog or our neighbor's pet pig. Babies get smiles, a face touch, and even a lick.

Prefers to feed herself. She's loved the introduction of a fork. And her favorite foods seem to be cheese, tomatoes, PB&J, and tonight's spaetzle.

Can't wait to learn more.


All night I've been imagining where I was a year ago. I get teary just thinking about it. Every day we're grateful for this angel girl and love her more. I don't deserve such sweetness, but I'll take it.

Tweet, tweet

Esme's going to be a bird for her first Halloween. I was smitten when I saw the idea on Martha. And it gave me motivation to make this cute hat I saw a tutorial for a while back too.  She gives up trying to take it off since it's im-possible.  I can see myself getting addicted to making these.  Another great project to use up scraps. Why am I trying harder with two kids.  I'm supposed to be doing things to make my life easier.

Cutest baby bird ever!  Totally worth it.

Butter Diet Update

So, it's been a week and half since visiting the dietician. I'm relieved I don't have to weigh all her food anymore. It was stressing me out, but now I'm stressed thinking now I have a list of things to do to get more weight on her, but what if I can't do it. Somehow I have to double or triple her milk intake, add formula and microlipids to pumped milk, hold her down to take an antihistimine (no she has to allergies, but it has the side effect of increased hunger, which I've yet to notice) and get her to gain 15-30 ounces a month.

After eating her meals dripping with butter her clothes, high chair, table, her hair are smeared with grease. At first I looked forward to the clinical feeding evaluation the dietician recommended. Finally, people will understand how hard it is to feed this child. But I haven't scheduled it because I know she eats enough (as long as I have enough toys and games to coax each bite in), she just doesn't drink enough. The dietician noticed she's a very content baby. Who knew an easy-going baby could cause so much worry. Lets pray for a more demanding, needy girl.