Ten.

Whew! Ten months. I know I signed up for this and all. And truly, I love every minute. But I'm here to tell you: 10 months = handful.

Hand.ful.

The older she gets the more this becomes a job of parenting, not just nurturing, and as we hit a new transition I know there are growing pains. We are both evolving. I'm always so daunted by the next big thing on the horizon, and as we cross it, it becomes integrated so easily as part of our normal life.

My little baby, it seems is growing into her own little person.

She thinks there's a new boss in town. And it ain't me. All hail Queen Eliza.

Don't worry, folks, there's a revolution underway to put the queen in her place. She's very happy about this.

Oh, bring on the lip! I've seen it all before! You won't break me, precious little miss!

Oh she's precious all right. I love her dearly, to the point it's almost too much to bear. But her new-found independence, which really took off with simultaneously crawling and cruising right at 9 months, is now in full-fledged testing mode. We are learning the word "No" and drawing boundaries all over the house. I've become a broken record of "Put that down, please" "Don't eat that, honey" "Let's be gentle with Georgia," etc. Lots of the time, she actually listens. She understands pretty much everything I say. I give her credit for understanding it, anyway.

Peek-a-boo.

No pack and plays or baby gates here, nosiree. Our little house would quickly become a full-on Eliza-land. Just a little bit of babyproofing, supervision and limit-making. Most of the day she's on my hip running errands, in front of me eating her meals, or being rocked and read to. We talk constantly as we move through the day - a little team we are. Lots and lots of mama time. I recognized awhile back that if I didn't make a conscious effort to separate us a little bit, we would soon have a big-time clinging problem. It's one of the hidden pitfalls of staying at home. It's not good for mama or baby - mama can't get anything done, baby becomes insecure, unsure of themselves without mama by their side.

Because we are constantly together, when she's playing, I try to busy myself, fade into the furniture and let her explore and play independently, save for when she's sticking her hand in the VCR (dearest husband and ruler of our electronics, why do we still have a VCR?) or attempting to chew on computer cables. I always sit on the floor with her for a bit, interacting with her and her toys, but then I back off. I have made independent play longer and longer as she grows.

(here are the little legs she is always getting compliments on. kind of a weird thing to compliment a baby on, but there you have it.)

And though selfishly it stings that she doesn't need me constantly, I am so glad that she'll happily crawl off to explore at a playdate, only checking in with me from time to time, or when she's tired or hurt. I intentionally back off and try not to hover, though sometimes it's hard. I'm so proud of her self-confidence, and I'm really proud of the easy bond we share.

I do miss my snuggly little lady. We're in the "put me down/pick me up/put me down" phase. Agggh. And she's never satisfied with the choice of story before nap (which is her own choice to start with). She's always better-dealing the book she's just chosen once we start reading, craning her head over the side of the chair looking for another book to read. Pointing at it - "dat, dat dat." She better deals everything right now - the bottle, a toy. And we point at everything. Me, all day long, as she points: "That's a light, that's a dog, that's a door, that's a flower, that's a tree." and sometimes, "that's the KitchenAid mixer. That's Tito's Vodka. That's Whitney Houston."

She's big into sharing these days. Here, have a triangle block. Here, I have this leaf to give you. Here, have some slimy, smushed banana and cheerio. We play the old "I'm pretending to eat this nasty thing you handed me" game, popular with parents around the world. Baby collapses into a fit of giggles. Oh my, hee hee. So funny. Repeat.

As her mobility kicked into high gear overnight (literally from inchworm to one-handed cruising in a few days time - who KNEW this happened so fast??) her incessant chatting continued but I can tell that her words got put on the backburner. She has little spurts where she's trying out new ones - "again" (hands me a book we'd just finished) "all done" "thank you" "light" "bottle" and "flower" aka "f-f-f" or "fada" all popped up this month in her own little language - along with animal noises - "moo," "quack quack quack" and howling like a wolf, which, obviously, her dada taught her. Important life skills we are learning here at the Miller house! Never know when that wolf call will come in handy.

We did have a communication breakthrough last week at lunchtime while I was feeding her yogurt. She kept turning her head away and saying something, but I couldn't understand (as I usually can't). I kept trying to give her a bite, because she typically could eat unlimited amounts of yogurt, and she was pointing at the cup and saying something like "ah-gah" over and over again. I started to repeat what she was saying, and a lightbulb went off. "All done? Eliza, are you all done?" I say "all done" after every meal. She broke into a huge, excited smile of recognition. It was such a big moment for us both, and she knew it. Though she has said recognizable words before, it was the first time she communicated a need to me verbally, and she was so proud.

Anyway, between the teeth (6 now, plus 2 more on the way, given the bite marks on her poor little hand), the bugs we've been fighting, and the spirited little child we have blossoming over here, I'd be lying if I said this month was a breeze. But it's been so amazing to watch her change and grow. By far, this has been the most rapid period of development and as we adjust to our delightful little whirling dervish (laundry swirling around me like a scene straight out of Fantasia), I am in disbelief that I am starting to see a real glimpse of the little being she is becoming. My goodness, it does go fast.

Miss Eliza, we absolutely love your spirited little self to pieces. Happy 10 months, precious girl.

My lucky charm

Happy St. Patrick's Day! In keeping with her tradition of perfect white Christmases and other idyllic holiday happenings, this is what my little lucky charm and I found in the garden earlier this week.

I've been scouring clover patches since I was a little girl, and there it was, just staring me in the face. I was hardly even looking for it.

Miller and I were reminiscing earlier this morning about our last St. Patrick's Saturday. It was a good one, let me tell you. There was jigging, Guinness day drinking, many new friends made (whom we never saw again, of course), and much Irish merriment. I don't think it's terribly appropriate to party down the way we did back then currently, or once our kids are grown, so it's probably safe to say that was it for us as far as wild and crazy St. Patty's Saturdays go. A good last hurrah. This St. Patty's day was pretty tame by comparison. But by Eliza standards, we partied down. I can't remember the last time she passed out in the carseat twice in one day.

By the way, March in Austin is awesome.

(What are these trees? Anyone? Megs?)

The trees bloom seemingly overnight, those iconic bluebonnets pop out, the kite festival, St. Patrick's Day, Spring Break, the Rodeo, March Madness and of course, the beast that is SXSW (South by Southwest, or South By as we locals call it), which absolutely takes over the town. I am always torn between avoiding downtown entirely and getting out into the thick of it - the live music at every turn is one of the many reasons we love living here. Miller has a badge this year so he's been getting a good dose of the South By action, but Eliza and I had a rough end of the week so I'd opted to stay away from the family-friendly free day stuff.

Lizzy Lou hadn't seen much of her papa this week due to his needing to be at SXSW for work. She and I have been a little duo since Tuesday. She was glad to have him all to herself today.

So, what did we do? Post-naptime, we headed out to the convention center to Flatstock 33, a SXSW poster show I'd been wanting to go to. So cool! Fantastic prints by a range of great artists from all over the globe. We picked up a few and I'm excited to get them framed up.

Then we headed down to South Congress, which was the zoo we expected, but totally manageable. We had a delicious lunch at our favorite food trucks:

After lunch, we made our way down to SXSJ (South By San Jose), a laid-back free day concert that we try to attend at some point every year. There's hippies selling their wares, vintage boots for sale, beers, and, obviously, great live music. It's just easy and fun.

She was tapping her leg to the beat and loving every minute. A little Austin baby through and through.

So, after all the excitement, the poor little love passed out in the car on the way home, which always leads to the "should we just drive around until she wakes up? Or transfer her to the crib?" dilemma. We woke her up, and she did not appreciate our efforts to quickly put her back down at home. Aggh. This always happens when you have somewhere to be. In this case, her friend Hunter's birthday party. Remember him? He's her little boyfriend from the pumpkin patch:

So, we eventually just gave in, put her in the car and crossed our fingers. Can't win 'em all.

She was a little bleary-eyed, but rose to the occasion pretty well.

See her little eyes just barely opening? Pobrecita. A big day for her.

Especially since a lot of her besties/twin sisters were there.


This is the failed attempt at getting some of the babies in attendance in a picture together.

That would be a gorgeous natural mohawk miss PJ rocks.

Plus, there was green cake.

And sweet Hunter was dressed as a little leprechaun.

He was a little unsure about the whole thing. Angry leprechaun.

(but don't you love that kid next to him eyeing the cake?!)

It was such a fun day; I'm happily trading in my boozy St. Patrick's day card. I think that hangover at 30 would not be a pretty one anyhow. I'll take the trade off of baby birthdays, sunny outings with my two loves, and climbing into bed at a reasonable hour.



And I have to say, I feel pretty lucky this year.

With your fist holding tight...to the string of your kite

Do not adjust your glasses.

(unless you're a baby, in which case, do. We know you can't resist.)

Yes, it's me. Your resident mama blogger, emerging from two weeks chocked-full of busted pie moments. And by that I mean, the totally ordinary, highly unglamorous, utterly unblog-worthy mama moments.

Since I've been gone, I've done approximately 17 loads of laundry, methodically spring cleaned the entire house, squeezed in one much-needed (and subsequently, paid for) wine night, finished the damn dining table, made 6 Pinterest recipes in one 24-hour period, watched helplessly as one cake overflowed dramatically in the oven, and conquered our first tummy bug (twice).

Yes, friends, I'm here to report that I spent the end of February covered in various baby bodily fluids as we succumbed to our first stomach virus. I thought it was a short-lived one, until round 2 arrived. That day was a true low moment of motherhood thus far. At one point I put on a fleece which, unbeknownst to me, was completely covered in poop. Like I said, not really a moment worth capturing for the blog. I crawled into bed around 7 that Friday and didn't emerge until the next morning. I know you're wishing I'd checked in to chronicle that thrilling day.

And, apparently, 9 months is this dramatic period of development, wherein babies stop sleeping through the night. You can write the odds off, because your baby is a GREAT night sleeper. But add stomach flu and four teeth erupting at once and well, we didn't sleep much in February. Still aren't, actually. It messes with everything in a way that is too boring to describe in detail here, but agggggh!! I love wine night. My fist was holding tight to that wine bottle last week.

The tummy bug behind us, we turned to a fun weekend ahead with the Millers, who were coming to visit us. They couldn't have picked a more perfect time to visit. The house was back in order, all of us were healthy (though not completely rested...), Mt. Laundry was conquered and spring had sprung in Austin, Texas.

Not only that, but the 84th annual Austin Kite Festival was held at Zilker Park on Sunday, aka Cita's birthday. I bet you didn't know we were home to the oldest kite festival in America. As if you needed another reason to love this town. It was an absolutely GORGEOUS day - it kind of made me forget all about that awful summer last year. It was the most perfect day for kite flying that you ever did see, ordered up special for Cita's birthday I'm guessing.

All she wanted to do was play with her little grandbaby.

Eliza was happy to oblige.

The rest of the city was there too. Just us and a few thousand of our closest neighbors, flying kites.

You may fly kites, or babies. Take your pick. Just make sure to slather that baby in sunscreen. And put a hat on her, if she'll wear it (mine wouldn't).

(This is E. pretending she is a butterfly kite. Don't tell her she's really a baby.)

Daddy Jack, reeling her in.

(this is our real butterfly kite.)

("oooooh!": Eliza's new favorite word.)

We had a delicious lunch from the food trucks while we were there. Eliza had no problem digging up a little Park Salad to start, followed up by her entree of pumpkin quinoa and vanilla yogurt for dessert.

That is one event we will definitely be doing again. After we said our goodbyes to Daddy Jack and Cita, we decided to strap on the backpack and stroll the neighborhood. Just too pretty out not to. By some miracle, the child kept her hat on for the whole walk.

A little tuckered, are we? Fancy an uninterrupted night's sleep?
(in case you were wondering, she decided she didn't. But oh, goodness...I hardly even care. She is so sweet and those 4 a.m. snuggles I'm letting her get away with are heavenly. Once the last tooth emerges, I'll be laying down the law. I swear...)

A lovely, lovely weekend. I'm pledging to be outside as much as possible this month, as I fear by the end of it we'll all be in the pool crying about the heat. Spring doesn't last long around these parts...