Tornado

Dear Romey,

Twenty-five days ago you turned two. As I’ve indicated in previous blog posts, I’ve felt the ominous two-year-old stuff approaching for months, sort of like a scary storm moving in on the horizon—the kind where you want to run into the basement and hide, but then you realize that there is no basement, not even a house! Instead you have to stand in the rain, and plant your feet firmly on the ground, and take the pelting rain, hail, and sleet LIKE A MAN.

Allegory aside, someone must have read my blog post to you; you know, the one where I laid down a mighty challenge for you to “up your game.” You have not only managed to “up your game” but you’ve surpassed my (and your father’s) expectations and have become a high-knee-foot-stomping-screaming-roaring-arms-crossing-irrational-tantrum-throwing-TORNADO. You, my dear, are a force to be reckoned with, and if you weren’t my second child, I’d be taking this behavioral stuff personally. Instead, I’m chalking up this behavioral shift to a natural developmental phase called two-year-old negativism (mixed with a side of passion, temper, and frustration). So, that, Romey, is the reason why I’m twenty-five days late with my birthday wish to you. I have been busy going toe-to-toe with you, and when not so engaged I’ve been recovering.

And, of course, there’s another side to you as well. You are unabashedly sweet, smiley, friendly, and happy-go-lucky. You are also mischievous and sneaky, and fiercely independent.

Your perfect day includes anything Elmo, or Yo Gabba Gabba. You love juice (“joo”), candy, cookies, and anything Avery is eating. You are fearless, and love to leap and be caught. You absolutely love being read to, and piles, and piles of books are often an indication of where we’ve planted for the day. You love to cuddle, and are still a hopeless mama’s girl. You love your pacifier or “Bobby” (Daddy calls it ‘Robert’) and your purple blanket. You don’t know this yet but YOUR New Year’s resolution is to give up your “Bobby.”

You love to imitate frogs and puppies, and get a real thrill out of playing with animals. And, your little vocabulary continues to grow—mama/dada has recently been upgraded to mommy/daddy, you are combining words, and overall just understanding more and communicating more clearly. Your favorite words are ‘mine,’ and ‘no.’

Your appearance still, at times, takes me by surprise. You have gorgeous deep brown eyes that look just like your Great-Grandpa Hofmeyer’s. You are unexpectedly blonde, blonde, blonde, and have a killer smile. I would say that the Hofmeyer DNA runs strong with you (even beyond your appearance).

Romey, your dynamic little persona continues to amaze us. You are a tremendously fun and spicy addition to our family. And, although I sometimes linger outside the van, where the screaming is slightly muffled, and I’m silently (or audibly) missing my “old life,” I hope you know that you are sincerely loved and I feel privileged to have you.

Happy belated second birthday little Ro—you are loved.

Love,
Mom

Snapshot—Fall 2009

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, one of the primary reasons that I blog is to ‘record’ Avery and Romey. I take a lot of pictures, and video, but I don’t journal, and am a Creative Memories dropout. I have aspirations of putting together yearly photo books, but…….yeah, in the meantime, I’ll just blog it. So, Ave and Ro, this one’s for you.

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Romey—Gizmo

Let me start by saying that I love reading dooce.com. I don’t always agree with the author or appreciate her language, but I think she’s a great writer with a terrific story re-telling sensibility. Ah, story telling.

Anyway, she wrote this paragraph about her youngest daughter (approximately four months old):

“You are what I call The Ruse. And I am not falling for it, not one bit. No way. I'm guessing your kind is evolution's way of sustaining our species. Because you and your irresistible cuteness and mood could fool a woman into having lots and lots of babies. BUT I AM NO FOOL. You know why? Because I have already lived through the third year of someone's life, and I know yours is coming. And when it hits, when you throw your body across the floor in a fit of rage, I'll be all SEE! I KNEW IT! Behind all those smiles and adorable dimples lies an evil three-year-old!”

I read this and laughed and laughed and laughed. I think I might have even stood up and clapped. Why? Because, sometime over the last month, someone snuck into my home and dripped a little bit of water onto my sweet Romey’s head. And then, before my very eyes, Romey transformed from a little cooing Gizmo into a ferociously screaming Gremlin. And, let me tell you, it just gets downright ugly sometimes, and I can’t believe that I was stupid enough to think that Ro would skip past this tumultuous toddler stage. Yes, we still have glimpses of Gizmo, but boy, can that Gremlin make her presence known.

[My editor just informed me that Gizmo becomes more aggressive/mean/naughty if he's fed after midnight, and he multiplies if he gets wet. Details, details.....you get the idea.]

A typical Romey moment now often includes: a dirty look or two, screaming, kicking, and/or full body tantrums. She often will exercise her ‘right to refusal’ card and can be downright impossible. Yes, we’ve ushered in the two’s, and the great thing about Ro being my second child is that I’ve learned from past experience to just step over the tantruming child, and am often overheard saying, “Save it, sista!” or “work it out!” A golden rule: you just can’t reason with a tantruming child.

On a happy note, amidst all her tantrum throwing, Romey has managed to put on a little weight, and is now filling out Avery’s 3T clothing. Romey’s vocabulary is expanding as well, and her favorite words are: juice, mama, dada, gum, baby, bye bye, Avery, and a couple of others that I’m having a difficult time recalling at the moment.

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Avery—The X-Files

Avery has become our Queen Negotiator, and, at times, will use her manipulative prowess to get what she wants (I don’t know anyone like this).

Here’s an example: Avery spies a blue bottle of Gatorade, and says, “Oh, I’ve never had a blue drink before.” Then she dutifully waits, and bats her eyes at whomever is drinking the blue Gatorade. And then the drinker (who can not resist Avery’s charm) offers Avery a drink, prompting Ave to spring up and say, “Sure! I’d LOVE some!” Note: If the owner of the Gatorade bottle had not shared, then they likely would have been ‘X’ed.

Ah, the ‘X’ syndrome. We’re just coming out of the two-week period of intense ‘X’ing. Avery would draw a picture, and then ‘X’ some one out of it. Often that some one would be me, and Ave would explain that she had done so because sometimes “you (me) were naughty.”

Exhibit A and B: Mommy with an 'X'

It seemed that everyone had their turn with a ‘X’ on their face. Finally, I got a little fed up with it, and hastily drew a picture of Avery, and then put a giant ‘X’ over her drawn face (not her real face). Somehow, I’m not sure why, but that interchange got the point across. Remember, I don’t profess to be good at this parenting thing; just trying to muddle through it. I will say, though, that ‘X'-ing Avery worked, and the ‘X’ is ‘X’ed for now.

Avery has also become very, very imaginative, and can often be found building a ‘house’ (a chair with blankets), or a ‘hospital’ (a table and a blanket). Tea parties are still a big hit, as well as Candy Land, Hungry Hippos, Hi Ho Cheerio, and Play Doh. She loves to write, and has become even more infatuated with all things princess—Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, etc.

Avery created a 'video' of Dan and me.

And—my least favorite Avery update—I’m noticing that Avery is steadily becoming more aware of how other’s feel about her. She’s concerned with whether or not someone will like her, and if they’ll be nice to her. I hate to see her so ‘affected’ but know that we’re ONLY at the tip of this ice burg (more on this later).

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Have a great week, and Happy Fall!

End of Summer Fun

We decided to take an end-of-summer train ride to Chicago, and, gratefully, my sister was able to join us. Note: success = number of adults exceeding the number of children. As you'll see, the girls thought Millennium Park was the coolest! It was a terribly fun time, and I'm so glad we did it! Enjoy!

Lil' Stevie

I absolutely LOVE this picture. So cool!

Father-Daughter

Don't mind the food in Romey's mouth, instead, notice the way she is looking at Dan. I just love this picture and had to share it.

Pointer Sister

Romey isn’t saying much yet, but man, can that girl point. I’ve never seen someone point with such fervor or enthusiasm. Romey’s whole body “points” toward what she wants, and her little face contorts with such urgency, and frustration.

Ro and I had a moment today where she was maddeningly pointing, and I kept trying to bring her what she wanted but missed the mark three times solid. Finally I said, “Look, if you can’t articulate what you want, and instead just point, you’re just going to get something from that general direction. If you want what you want you’re going to have to ask for it. So ask. I might just give it to you.”

Note: This is all in good fun. We’re working with her and know that she can’t point her way through life.

Lesson Learned

I learned three very valuable lessons this morning:

1 – To never allow Romey to eat an entire can of mandarin oranges.

2 – To never hastily diaper Romey.

3 – To take Avery’s word when she says that Romey has a dirty diaper. And this is important for any mother of two (or more): when the older child says that the younger one has a dirty diaper it is not because he smells it (maybe) or because the older child is tracking the younger one’s bowel movements. It is because the older child can SEE it, and that, in effect, is reason enough to move quickly.

Wow, did Romey ever have a blow out this morning, made worse by the fact that I was blissfully unaware even though Avery kept telling me that Romey had a dirty diaper. All moms have been there—a major diaper blowout. Of course Romey was wearing her shoes and managed to get them good and dirty as well. These shoes are the fairly typical type of toddler shoes with lots of indentation grippers on the soles. After the aforementioned indiscretion, I flipped over Romey's shoes and had a choice to make: salvage or toss? I chose to salvage, and proceeded to use a toothpick to clean out my daughter’s shoes. Did I mention that the indentation grippers are heart shaped?

As I picked through her shoes, the following thought came to mind: I’m so glad my daughter has shoes. I’m so glad that her digestive system works. I’m so glad that we can afford mandarin oranges (not saying that mandarin oranges are expensive, but I think you understand). Most days I’d be wallowing in my mothering duties hating these types of tasks. I’m not saying I enjoyed it, but it was quickly over, the shoes look great again, and we were on to the next thing.

Perspective is such a valuable commodity. I’m glad I found some today, and am hoping that I wake up with a generous portion tomorrow too.

Cheesy goodness

I recently asked Dan to feed Romey. Leave it to Dan to attempt to speed up the process.....

Ro is visibly confused and yet still opens her mouth!

Walkin' Ro

Guess what? Romey is trying to walk! Dan just posted this terribly cute video clip. Along with a wobbly Ro you'll also notice that Avery is desperately trying to vie for my attention. I guess you could say that we've entered the sibling rivalry zone. Enjoy!

The Sole Survivor

“I saw that going so differently in my mind” has now been added to our list of favorite parental coping phrases. You might recall that one of our other favorites is “it could have been so much worse” after Avery gave herself a haircut.

The goal was simple: first birthday portraits for Romey. The stage was set. Romey had had a great start to her morning, and my sister agreed to come over and hang with Avery. And then, little by little, things started to un-ravel. The cumulative effect of the following resulted in no portrait and a lost shoe:

• It was snowing.

• Ave intentionally woke Romey up from her morning nap.

• During Romey's bath she slipped and banged her cheek on the side of the bathtub (resulting in a dime-sized red mark.)

• I spilled some water on Romey’s dress resulting in a last minute wardrobe change.

• My sister was late.

• The mall’s parking lot was packed.

• Somewhere between the car and the portrait studio one of Romey’s shoes disappeared (and she wasn’t wearing socks).

• I looked for the shoe; Dan looked for the shoe. We collectively determined that the shoe had vanished into thin air. Ro knew what happened to the shoe but she wasn't giving us any hints.

• We bagged the idea of trying to find the missing shoe, and decided to buy some new shoes. Gymboree was selling zebra print shoes, and polka-dotted shoes. No thanks—she’ll go barefoot.

• Our number is up, and we take a smiling and charming Ro into the portrait studio.

• I set Romey on the floor, and she freaks. She’s afraid. I pick her up, soothe her, and put her back down. She screams louder. I look at Dan. He looks at me. We hastily grab our things and head for the nearest exit.

The moral of this predictable story is: don’t ask me for professional portraits of the Nelson girls. Instead I’ll happily send you the Kodak Gallery link, and you can order some cute candids. And, speaking of pictures, Avery’s preschool portraits came in this week. She did a great job, and I’ll be posting one here soon. Maybe the key is that someone else needs to take Ave and Ro to the portrait studio. Any takers?

Romey

Dear Romey,

Happy Birthday! Today you are one year old. Last year you were born around 5:00 a.m., and today, as if on cue, you woke at 5:00 a.m. for a feeding. This morning I held you and thought about the moment we first met. It was an unforgettable moment—a moment that your dad and I had desperately hoped for, prayed for, and dreamed of—and it was everything we wanted it to be and more. The timing of you was perfect, and we’re so glad that God allowed you to join our family.

Our first year with you has been a joyous journey. Sure, you brought all that newborn stuff to the table, but overall it’s been a fairly easy year (easy because of you; not easy because then there were two—that’s hard). For your first hour of life “on the outside” you screamed hysterically, and then that was it. From that moment on you became our easy-going, un-assuming kid. You are quick to smile, happy, sweet, a snuggly kid, and a hopeless mama’s girl. We often joke that it is easy to forget that you’re around because of your happy-go-lucky way. Simply put, you’re a joy. And you’re a gift. Your middle name, Jean, means “gracious gift from God” and there couldn’t be a better way to describe you. It’s our privilege to have you as part of our family.

Happy Birthday Romey. We love you.

Love,
Mom

PS. Enjoy some of my favorite pictures from our first few days.

Our first 'meet and greet'

Almost one

Romey's actual birthday is December 6 but since my family was in town for Thanksgiving we thought we'd celebrate a little early. Enjoy!

It's hard to believe she's almost one!

Ro: "Give me some cake!"

......and lovin' it!

Avery helping Romey open gifts.

Unfortunately Romey was pretty tired so she wasn't really feeling the whole gift thing.

And 'scene'.......

All About Ro

Beautiful brown-eyed girl
Munching on an apple

Mashing some sweet potatoes and cheerios

Time for bed!

Lil' Sweetie

Romey Jean

She's here! Romey took us by surprise, and made a grand and fast entrance early Thursday morning, December 6. We checked into the hospital around 12:30 a.m., and she appeared at 5:05 a.m. Our room was quickly dubbed as the "room with all the action."

Romey is a "sturdy" gal (as tagged by the doctor). She weighs 8 pounds and 4 ounces, and stretches out to 20 inches. Romey is pronounced like the city, adding a long "E." Jean is a family name (Dan's mom's middle name, my sister's middle name, and my grandmother's middle name) and means "God is gracious." We are feeling completely blessed and completely tired, but couldn't be more thrilled to have made Romey's acquaintance. Avery's a little unsure about Romey, but is muddling through. For now, we're just trying to get her to call her "Baby Romey" instead of "Baby Jesus" as the baby in her nativity set is "Baby Jesus." Terribly funny! More pictures soon, but for now....some rest.

Pink or Blue

July 23 is finally here. We’ve been anxiously anticipating this day for weeks. Today we find out if the baby is healthy, and if he or she is a.…well…….he or she. Gratefully we’ve been so caught up in our day-to-day that we haven’t been dwelling on the baby. So in some ways we feel as though we’ve been waiting for months for this day, and in another sense, it is almost as if the day has crept up on us.

This past week has been a whirlwind. Dan was in Nebraska Tuesday through Thursday, and then was pretty much “out of town” Friday and Saturday with work-related events. Dan’s even declared that “things have been so busy, I think I’m going to blog about it!” Ha! We’ll have to see if this nay-sayer jumps on board!

Avery has been a little more spicy than usual. I don’t know if she has had too much mommy time lately or what, but she’s been “throwing down” (tantrums) quite a bit. Maybe another pesky tooth? Maybe bored? Maybe hungry? It is those moments that I feel that so much is still lost in translation. I wish the kid could say: “Mom, my mouth is killing me—dose me up!” “Mom, we’ve gotta do something else—I’m bored!” “Mom, stop! I’ve gotta eat!” She’s come so far in vocalizing her needs, but still has a way to go. Gratefully, Grammie and Papa saved my tush again, and took the Avery reigns last Tuesday thru Thursday (we needed a little more Pleasantville). Avery scoped out Bloomington’s Children’s Museum, and played in the water at State Farm Park—even exhibiting more and more bravery with her water wings.

As for today, we’ll just idly wait, and wonder if we’ll be announcing, “it’s a girl, it’s a boy.” Our intuition says girl. In the meantime, Dan’s home today, and I can’t think of a better way to kick off the week.

Til pink or blue.