The Daily Scarlette

Dear Scarlette | @ 25 Months

December 7, 2012 By Kayla Aimee

Dear Scarlette,

You’re killin’ me, smalls. The other day I had you by the ankle, dangling upside over the edge of the bed. We were all tucked in together when you suddenly decided to show us your somersaults, which really are very impressive if you don’t take off points for things like “depth perception.” Yesterday I caught you just as you started to flip head over feet out of your crib. Because of your daredevil tendencies, I’ve picked up both some amazing reflexes and an increase in raised eyebrows from strangers as they “tut-tut” over your latest black eye.

Plus, I don’t even want to talk about how it’s time to move you to a toddler bed. You just turned two! And you’re so short! And your arms are so skinny! How are you even shimmy-ing yourself up your crib posts like that?!

You’re talking so much that I’m going to have to start keeping a second book about all of the funny things you say. I’m sad that pen and paper can’t fully capture inflection, because your tone and expressions are what keep me clasping a hand to my mouth to hide a laugh as you utterly charm me in your moments of naughtiness.

The other day you were jumping on the couch. “Scarlette, Mommy wants you to sit down on your bottom” I said, patting the seat next to me. You stopped, cocked your head to the side, smiled disarmingly and replied “Noo-ah way-uh! I wan zhump!”

Um, I realize that you want to jump but WHEN DID YOU DECIDE TO START TELLING ME THAT USING COMPLETE SENTENCES? I was so taken aback that I almost didn’t catch you before you bounced right off the couch. But only almost. Like I said, impeccable reflexes.

You are often scolded for throwing your sippy cup, much to everyone’s chagrin. When you do remember to set it gently on the table, we thank you profusely. I settled you on the couch with it and when you finished, you screwed up your nose and then placed it firmly on the end table. Before I could applaud you, you spread your hands wide and said “WELCOME!”

Ever since you’ve been preemptively “you’re welcoming” us for everything. As soon as we hand you something that you want you yell “WELCOME!” before we can form a thank you and toddle off laughing to yourself as though you’re taking part in the world’s funniest joke.

We have a little dollhouse that belonged to your Aunt Jana when she was just a girl. From behind the sheets that I was clumsily attempting to fold (I will teach you many things, Scarlette, but how to neatly fold a fitted sheet will not be among them) I heard you say “Ni-ni. Ni-ni mackey!” And normally that phrase is uttered with your fingers clutching my pants, ready for a nap and in want of your pacifier. But you weren’t wrapped around my legs so I peeked over the sheet to see you playing with your dollhouse. You had swiped a washcloth from the laundry basket, covering a tiny bear with it like a blanket as you placed it in it’s little dollhouse bed and gently patted it’s back. “Ni-ni” you told the bear.

And then you sang it to sleep. I was a bit choked up, seeing you imitate us like that. Until I realized that instead of singing the lullaby that I usually croon to you at bedtime, you were softly singing the theme song to Super Why.

From sunrise to sunset, all you want to do is color. When it’s time to move on to something else (like say, eating food to support basic needs like survival) and I have to take your crayons away? You lose your ever lovin’ mind. “Cuh-a-woahs! CUH-A-WOAHS!!!” you shriek, throwing your body in the general direction of wherever I have tried to move the box of crayolas to. There is much weeping and gnashing of teeth when it is time to put the colors away. It’s really not a good look for me.

Your personality is so intriguing to me. You have such strong opinions and you’re fiesty and you’re stubborn. When it’s naptime I remove your shoes and you begin to shake your head with such vigor that I stop. “What is wrong, sweet girl?” “CHUUUEEESSSS!” you reply, “MINE CHUUESSS!” “But honey, you can’t sleep in your shoes. They’ll still be here after naptime, I promise.” You’re crying now “NOO-AH WAY-UH! CHUES!!”

And when you wake up, you’re pointing to them sitting on your dresser as I open the door.

You’re also so kind and sweet. I was crying as I recounted our visit to the doctor’s office, how horrible it is to have to hold you down, how frustrated I am that you hurt. And you walked over and started patted my back. “What is it baby?” I asked. Wide eyed, you tilted your face up to me “Okay? Okay Mama?” as if you weren’t the one who just had another invasive procedure.

“Prittees!” you say as we pass a house draped with tinkling lights. I slow down so that we can both take in this moment, you in wonderment of the trees strung with sparkles and me in awe of you, here with me.

Some days I hear my voice float harshly over us “SCARLETTE! I do NOT want to tell you again!” and dial a number “It’s one of THOSE mommy days” I tell my BFF as I try to coax the dog out from under the bed, where she’s hiding from you pulling her tail while you cry in the background from the trauma of your two minute time out. It’s real life here, me and you. It’s not all glossy and polished and perfect.

But His mercies are new every morning and when I open the door to your room in the earliest light sunbeams stream across your face and I am filled with joy. Every heartbeat I have is etched with the memory of almost losing you and pumps out a rhythmic reminder to embrace this time we have here and now.

You throw your arms wide and say “Moan-nin’!” which I assume means “good morning” and with you greeting me, it is.

It really is.

I love you,
Mama

14 Comments Filed Under: Dear Scarlette, The Daily Scarlette, Uncategorized

Brave Little Girl

December 4, 2012 By Kayla Aimee

Over the past couple of weeks we’ve been dealing with some health issues, nothing huge, just some prematurity complications that I had thought we had under control. I won’t go into specific details here because it involves things like G.I. specialists and one day Scarlette will be a teenager and I don’t want her being all “MOTHER! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WROTE ABOUT THIS ON THE INTERNET WHEN I WAS TWO!”

I sat in another doctor’s office on Friday morning and after holding her down for an uncomfortable exam, I held her to me as I wished away all of her pain. I thought about all of the times she’s been stung by needles and held down for exams and restrained under machines and still she is such a little bundle of happiness and joy.

She’s our brave little girl.

We have a few more referrals and one of them is a nutritionist. I can not even tell you how excited I am about this as I’ve been asking for a pediatric nutritionist referral for a good while now. I am hopeful that new dietary changes will help us get her pain under control while still allowing her to gain weight.

And because I am feeling all emotional, I’ll share this video I came across this week of one of the first times I was allowed to change her diaper in the NICU. She’s two weeks old here and two years old now. Sometimes when I’m feeling a bit discouraged about the lingering complications we are dealing with, I look at these videos and remember that she’s come so far, our brave little girl.

Scarlette and Mommy: NICU Touch Time from Kayla Aimee on Vimeo.

16 Comments Filed Under: The Daily Scarlette, Uncategorized Tagged With: #preemiepower

Happy 2nd Birthday Scarlette!

November 7, 2012 By Kayla Aimee

Dear Scarlette,
Today you turn two years old. When I asked you how old you are, you put you chin in your hand, wrinkled your nose in thought and then said “Um…A!”

Sure thing, sweet girl.

You are growing up so fast and it’s the most bittersweet thing I’ve ever experienced. There is such joy in seeing you just accomplish every day life because this is what I prayed for, for you to live and to thrive and to grow.

Mostly just for you to live.

But a faded typeset inked on thin gold-rimmed pages reads “I have come so that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

And it is abundant indeed.

From my 1 pound 8 and a half ounce baby to my tentative tottering toddler to my chatterbox two year old, these last two years have been blessedly beautiful.

I am the lucky one.

Love,
Mama

(song: I Get To Be The One by JJ Heller)

25 Comments Filed Under: The Daily Scarlette

Dear Scarlette | @ 21 Months

August 29, 2012 By Kayla Aimee

Dear Scarlette,

Let’s talk about how crazy you are. Like how you’ve learned to do somersaults because obviously you want to be a gymnast like your mommy (I know your daddy insists that you are going to be a professional tennis player but he is wrong.) And about how you’ve learned to climb up your slide and go down it all by yourself.

And so for some reason, in your little head this translated to “I know! I’ll do a somersault DOWN THE SLIDE! It will be the best somersault ever and I most certainly won’t break my neck!”

This is the part where I tell you that maybe I should think about taking up hurdles and trying out for the 2016 Olympic games. I mean, for one thing we could totally vacation in Rio. And for another, I cleared the couch in what had to have been world record time and caught you mid flip. Remember all those times in the hospital where you almost died and I was a total wreck? Let’s make a deal where we agree that I’ve been through enough near-death moments with you already and so you don’t do things like SOMERSAULT DOWN A SLIDE.

You know how you like to get your balls out of the ball pit and gleefully throw them down the slide while yelling “Ba-Ball Glide! Ba-Ball Glide!” because you have a tiny stutter and also because you’ve apparently inherited your parents love of a good Skee-Ball game? Let’s just stick to that.

But back to the crazy. You are crazy funny and you make me laugh all day long. Like, you are the baby version of The Bloggess, except with less curse words and none of the creepy dead animals.

The other day I had the refrigerator open and when I turned back to it you were standing there methodically taking apples out of the apple bowl and biting them one at a time. Just one bite and then you put the apple back in the bowl, picked up another one, took a bite out of it, replaced it, picked up another one, and so on. I probably should have stopped you but I found it completely hilarious. Especially after your daddy opened the refrigerator to grab an apple for his lunch and was all “Why are there teeth marks in all of my apples?” That was awesome.

It was also kind of genius because we only eat our apples sliced in this house and so I didn’t even know you knew how to eat apples the real way.

At dinner we ask you to tell us when you are all done. Your speech therapist wants you to work on not mimicking and so instead of telling you to say “all done” I asked you “What do we say when we are finished eating?”

You put your finger to the corner of your mouth and cocked your head like you do when you are thinking, a move that in and of itself is so precious that it almost makes me want to have another baby except for that this bakery is closed. And then you said “Ummmm….one?” and held up the number one with a look so hopeful that I sort of wanted to say “YES! That’s totally the right answer!” and take you to Disney World because I am a sucker for you.

Like how yesterday we went outside to play with the water table. I had been talking it up for a couple of minutes while we put your shoes on and you were excitedly running in place next to the door waiting for me. Once we got out there I realized that your daddy must have dumped out the water and I needed to replace it. So I had to bring you back inside with me to fill up the water pitcher. You burst into tears and I felt terrible for you because it did seem mean didn’t it, how I took you outside and showed you the empty water table and then brought you right back in the house? If you were older you’d be telling that story to a therapist.

I was standing at the sink filling the pitchers and trying to reassure you that we were going right back out side. You stood there with your lips trembling and your hands upturned, tears dripping down your chubby cheeks. In a shaky voice you kept crying “Mama why is it? Why is it?” Which in Scarlette speak sounds like “Mama, wi-ya ish eet?” and was so utterly charming that I had to turn my face so you didn’t see me laughing at your adorableness and get your feelings hurt worse.

You can read your books along with us and you love to give commands to the characters. “Go! No Way! Bye!” you’ll say to them as you turn the pages. When you see my cell phone you immediately hold it up and say “CHEESES!” because, well, I take way too many pictures of you. Your daddy can no longer play basketball with you as his cheerleader because you want to be on the court. He lifts you up and you dunk the ball, squealing as it goes through the net. You’re so happy, Scarlette.

I’m soaking up watching you learn. You figured out how to blow bubbles on your own. Earlier this week you dumped out a bottle of bubbles and then took it to the water table and filled it up with water. And I was all “SOMEONE CALL HARVARD, MY BABY OBVIOUSLY HAS THE WORLD’S HIGHEST IQ.” You moved from a high chair to a booster seat and I teared up a little as I packed away yet another baby item as we move toward having a two year old.

It is the most humbling of blessings to be your mother.
I love you punkin pie,
Mommy

(B/c I’m always asked about her headbands, lol, her whole outfit is from my friend Martha at Little Boo & Pie)

9 Comments Filed Under: Dear Scarlette, The Daily Scarlette

Like Mother, Like Daughter | Baby Doll Edition

August 27, 2012 By Kayla Aimee

KA and baby doll circa 1985: “Um, y’all? I don’t want a little sister, bribing me with this baby boy doll dressed up in girl clothes is totally not working.” Scarlette and baby doll circa 2012: “Y’all! This baby doll has a weenis!”

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Every now and then I like to refresh your memory of my creepy anatomically correct baby doll. You know, just in case the horrifying image has slowly faded from your mind. Then I’m like “BAM! HERE’S MY BABY DOLL WITH A WEENIS!*” (If you missed this story, you’re going to want to read this. But not while you’re drinking anything.)

Scarlette has gotten really attached to this doll, who I’ve taken to calling “Baby Bing.” Because technically I named the baby doll “Chandler” when I was five years old, but then I got a step-ish brother named Chandler and so it’s a bit too confusing teaching Scarlette to separate “Real Chandler” and “Weenis Baby Doll Chandler.”

I toyed with the idea of re-naming the baby doll “Cha-nan-de-ler Bong” because I think I am hilarious but then I figured that with my luck, Scarlette would only pick up the latter half of that one and then I’d be that mom explaining to her Sunday School teachers why she refers to her baby dolls as “bongs” and so I scratched that real quick like.

Fun fact: My mother’s name is Monica and my dad’s middle name is Ross. We’re like one big happy FRIENDS family, except for that whole part about how my parents are divorced.

Anyhow, Scarlette has been carrying around Baby Bing, patting him and smothering him with kisses. She’ll bring him to me so that I’ll give him kisses or rock him. She sleeps with him, even though she won’t sleep with any of her soft, cuddly, COMFORTABLE stuffed animals. Or her pillow. And she’s a big fan of hopping off of the Big Girl Potty and putting him on it in her place. She has not yet learned about how potty time works for boys, apparently.

So I thought for sure she was ready for attempt number two at pretend play. Turns out, she’s still not a fan of sharing a bottle with him. In fact, it’s been months since she’s even had a bottle and when I gave her that one for the baby she was all “MY BOTTLE! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?! PRAISE THE LORD THAT MY MOTHER IS GETTING ALL EMOTIONAL ABOUT PARTING WITH MY BABY THINGS AND SECRETLY STASHED YOU IN THE CABINET! IT’S A SATURNALIA MIRACLE!”

Scarlette watches too much Big Bang Theory, obviously.

*We don’t actually call it a “Weenis” but I don’t want Creepy McCreepersons coming to my blog via weird google searches.
** Okay fine, I totally do call it a Weenis in my head. I blame this on my deep and abiding love for the movie “Stick It” which is a GYMNASTICS movie. This post is doing nothing for my reputation.
*** Scarlette totally dressed herself in these pictures. I got her pants on and then she flipped the heckfire out when she spotted that too-big dress in the stuff my sister brought over this week and insisted on wearing it.
**** This is my last asterisk, I promise.