The things we teach

For me, one of the most humbling, daunting, confusing parts of being a parent is knowing that our daily interactions are teaching moments. I am constantly stopping to think about what I'm really teaching her, as there are so many mistakes we inevitably make along the way, inadvertently reinforcing the wrong behaviors despite our good intentions. Luckily, it's a cumulative effect, not a one-time shot, or else we'd be in trouble.

I've been reminded of that this week as Eliza entered the clingy stage almost overnight. It's a pretty normal phase of development around 6 months, and a positive thing overall, as I recall from my attachment theory studies way back when. But she wants me and no one else, and even when it's just us, she wants me in sight at all times. I'm having to pause and consider the appropriate response in each situation, and what she learns from me. It's a tricky balance, and ultimately I go with my instincts and move forward, hoping I'm not screwing her up too badly. It's something new every day though, and should make our upcoming trip to Amarillo interesting.

Anyway, it got me thinking about the little messages we are sending each day, subconsciously or intentionally, as she finds her voice, learns to sit, touches/mouths everything in sight. And what lessons will be learned over time - the cumulative, deeper life lessons - that we hope she knows well by the time she goes off to college. Things like:

Chew on whatever toys you want. I am so over the germs. I work diligently to keep everything as clean as I can, but sometimes a rattle from the floor goes into the mouth and well, what are you gonna do. As my friend's daughter says, germs are good for your 'munities. New mantra as she enters mobility.

Sometimes on a chilly day, it's nice to leave your jammies on and settle in with a good book.

Occasionally you have to do things you don't want to do, like tummy time. Because it makes you stronger, it gets easier the more you do it (see?). And we'll do our best not to rescue you the minute it gets hard. That's because we love you.




But we will always encourage you as you bust a move.


Walking, talking...


Squawking. (OK, I'm actually not trying to encourage the squawking).


Even when it makes us sad, we won't stand in your way when you want to do things on your own. Like give yourself your bottle. Sniff.


One fingered bottle holding. The Miss is so dexterous. We did not teach her this.


Every once in awhile, a pink giraffe may get an eyeful. It's SO embarrassing, but it's best if you can try to laugh and move on.


Sometimes you have to put on your tights, your little bear hat, and your sweater and brave the "cold." (Austin only has "cold" weather). Layers are a good way to be prepared for any situation.


You're right, you ARE more important than College Gameday.


But on special Saturdays we can watch together. Touchdown Texas! Sorry Raiders.


You are one lucky little girl. There are so, so many people who love you dearly. Always make time for them. They are your people.




One day, you may discover we aren't the most fascinating, hilarious, wonderfully perfect people in the world as you previously thought. But we will always love you, and we will never stop hoping you'll throw a smile our way.


And of course, we will always be there when you need us.

Doll babies

Happy Halloween, from our little Raggedy Ann and all her friends! Eliza was very game for this Halloween shoot and also so excited to finally have some flowing red yarn locks upon her head. What a fun first Halloween this was. Lots of pumpkins, sugary birthday/Halloween treats (tiff's treats, cupcakes, and candy of course - all delicious diet sabotagers), and playing with blue-eyed doll babies. We had a little low-key birthday gathering of friends Saturday, where people stopped by our house throughout the afternoon, with babies in tow where applicable. I only got pictures of the underage attendees, sadly, but it was wonderful to see everyone! Thanks sweet husband and Braden for doing everything, and to my stepsister Maggie for staying with the bambino while we went to a nice birthday supper later that evening. And now I present, babies: halloween edition!

Doll baby #1: Darling Elyse (7 months). Such a sweet little mover and shaker! Those eyes, my goodness!

Doll baby #2: Sweet Avery (19 mos.), in her gingham pumpkin dress. She was quite pleased to find there were cookies at this shindig. She also got right to work bartending, helpfully adding ice from the coolers to Miller's margarita.

Doll baby #3: Eliza's first friend Blake, as Dorothy - one week shy of 7 months. She rocked it (and as such I couldn't resist doing a little pre-Oz sepia treatment). Her grandmother had crocheted her some little ruby slippers and I'm kicking myself as I did not get a good shot of those. I've loved watching their play evolve - they interact so much now.

Hi, B! You are one cute little munchkin.

This wouldn't be that great of a shot…except please check out that drool bomb on my daughter. This costume was a goner by the end of Halloween.

Eliza's first Halloween was a fun little evening. We trick or treated at my parents' houses, (brought Eliza by in her costume during trick or treat hours) - and then stopped by our friends The Brownes' house for a beer and a little pre-bedtime playtime with E's friend Piercy, yet another blue-eyed, 7 month-old beauty. She was dressed as a cute little bunny, complete with cottontail bum, and they were too precious playing together. I have to say my lifelong baby obsession has not cooled much since having one of my own; I am pretty much in heaven getting to hang with all these sweet babes on a regular basis. Of course I didn't have my act completely together as I got hardly any pictures on Halloween night.

(Here's one of Raggedy Ann and her Annie)

(one with Johnny)

...one of these days I'll have the baby costumed, self coiffed and primped, diaper bag fully loaded, camera going all night long. Maybe some heels on even. Ha. No.

And so begins my favorite time of year. We pulled out the sweater box tonight in anticipation of some colder days ahead. So looking forward to snuggling in these next few months and celebrating the holidays. Happy Halloween from the Millers!

Goodbye to my roaring 20s

(This is how I began my 30s)

My roaring 20s began pretty memorably. Or, not so memorably, depending on how you look at it. Cory Morrow happened to be playing at Kappa Sig that night, as it was Parents' Weekend at Washington and Lee. I can't say for sure, but I believe I got on stage when they played Happy Birthday to me. It's all a bit of a haze. As you can see, it was quite a good time. Roar.

Regardless of my hazy memory, I have a souvenir. A set list from the concert, which has "Happy birthday to Lisa" scrawled across the bottom. One of my guy friends sweetly pulled it off the stage and saved it for me. I had been wearing his straw cowboy hat, and I think I got it signed for him, because Cory and I had a chat after. I have photographic evidence that it happened, the memory is a little less clear. Anyway, the guy, my friend, is the guy who made me dinner tonight for my 30th birthday.

He also left work at lunch, came to the house, collected the baby, who had just peed and then puked all over me, and said, "go shopping." We were supposed to meet him for lunch for the baby handoff, but well, baby wasn't aware it was my birthday. It was a monumental birthday turnaround. I love him.

My 20s were a mixed bag of highs and lows, the stuff of life - graduating college, getting smacked in the face - repeatedly, it seemed - by an intense real world job. Incredible, once in a lifetime trips to Scotland, backpacking Europe, China for the Olympics. Saying goodbye to my Nana and Papaw. Our amazing experience living abroad in London. The sudden and devastating loss of my brother, Andrew. The joyous birth of our first baby. We did a good amount of living before we settled into our 30s, a decade which I can safely say will most likely be defined by the highs and lows of parenthood.

My 29th year began most memorably, with an ultrasound on my birthday, where we nervously watched as her tiny heartbeat flickered before us, her little gummy bear sized-self appearing on the screen for the first time. I am not sure I really comprehended the magnitude of seeing our sweet girl for the first time, and the ways our lives would change, the way our hearts would change. How next year, our little gummy bear would have oatmeal dripping down her chin and would be shooting me a great big "I just spit up on your only jeans that fit" smile. One year feels like a lifetime ago, but it was the beginning of something big. We shared our joy with my family at my birthday dinner that evening, and his family that weekend. Today, I share it with my husband and our most precious gift.

Month 5

Waving hello - a trick she learned this same day. Still doesn't happen all the time, but precious when we catch it.

Hello, month five. What a wonderful month it was. The many facets of motherhood continue to reveal themselves as our baby girl grows. I vacillate daily between an aching feeling of "please, please stop growing up so fast" and the triumphant pride of "look at what you can do now!" The struggle between heart and head - what I know is best for her is often in direct conflict with what I desperately want to do (I speak, of course, of sleep training our strong-willed little angel). The feeling my heart may seriously burst at any moment when she stares at me with such pure love and smiles. The nagging guilt over a self-perceived bad mama moment. The feeling that I'm always behind, never getting as much done as I'd like each day. Worrying that I may really be in over my head if we were to have another baby, if I don't even always feel like I am managing this one as adeptly as I'd hoped. It's so many things I've never experienced, but it's all becoming a lot more second nature now.

By second nature, I mean that I'm starting to forget what life was like without a baby. It is so much easier when you don't remember, by the way. Taking her places, figuring out how to care for her, factoring her into everything we do is all very normal and routine. She is now seamlessly woven into our lives, like she was always here. What did we ever do without her? (sleep? party till the wee hours? do stuff whenever we felt like it without consequences? it's all a little hazy.)

This month has been about regaining control of the buckets. You know those buckets - the keeping the house clean bucket, the keeping baby on a good schedule bucket, the don't kill the garden bucket, the make time for husband/friends/grocery store/self buckets. Those buckets. It takes time to figure out how to strike the right balance, or even get to them at all on many days. On any given day the order in which you top off those buckets changes. There's a lot of bucket guilt.

Exhibit A: the garden. I confess, it was me. I killed it. We're working to revive it now from a "giving up the ghost" state. A lot of stuff falls by the wayside during big life transitions. The loving on baby bucket overflows, of course. It's hard not to make that the number one bucket. Somehow I see a lot more of my new friends than old - I guess because the new ones are mamas and their little ones, confused bucket rearrangers like myself. Neglected friends from long ago, I miss you and if it makes you feel any better, the shower/take care of self buckets are also often embarrassingly empty much of the time. I'm a champion texter. Texting is the one thing you can do while feeding a baby. Hit me up, peeps.

I do love on this baby. So many kisses and hugs. We talk all day long. She looks to me for reassurance as she explores her world, so I make everything, especially a potentially scary or new situation, seem like an exciting and fun adventure. There's a lot of ridiculous babytalk that goes on in this house. "Hooray! Let's get dressed! Yayyyy carrots! Oh those puppies are barking loud! What do the puppies say? Ruff ruff!" That sort of thing. I sell it. She eats it up. My brain has, perhaps indelibly, turned to mush. Much like the homemade baby food I'm whipping up these days. We just got Eliza's amazing new high chair in, and now I wheel her all over the house, letting her watch me as I do chores, rather than leaving her in the swing or under the play gym for five minutes here or there. It's a whole new world for our little lady.

More and more, she takes the thumb over a randomly chosen set of two fingers.

Her little personality is blossoming. Her pediatrician called her "strong-willed" because she is a bit stubborn on the sleep training. She definitely likes to have her own way. She is also an aggressive eater of dresses, as you can see. But other than nap time, she is typically a very calm, adaptable, outgoing and happy little baby girl. Quite the flirt these days too.

We've reached a new phase - screeching owl. She's finding her voice, which was cute at first, though now it's a bit headache-inducing. She also continues to be very chatty and seems to have quite a lot to say. I pretend I understand every word.

These hands. The sweetest thing that came about between months 4 and 5 is her exploration of everything, especially us. Mama's hair, Daddy's beard. She looks so intently at our faces, studying us carefully with her eyes and touching our faces with her tiny hands, as if seeing us for the first time. It's such a sweet and tender little gesture. She runs her hands over the pages of the stories we read, and pats the pups eagerly. She reaches, grabs, holds with intent and determination. And then pulls e.very.thing into her mouth.

I feel like I did not take to motherhood as gracefully as I'd stupidly, naively assumed I would, or as some of my counterparts seem to have. I'm still struggling to find my equilibrium a bit on a few fronts, but so much progress from the start of month 4. I never, ever envisioned early motherhood would be the dark road it often was; everything suddenly began to feel a bit insurmountable as my body started working against me out of the blue. But this month, I conquered a lot, and became the mother I'd hoped, or maybe known, I could be. And suddenly laundry gets done, dinner gets made, the house is sometimes decently clean. I kid. It's rarely that clean. But the buckets...we're getting there.

Eliza is wearing a peach dress that was mine as a baby for her 5-month shoot because we share this birthday month together - for her, month 5. For me, month 360. This week, I turn the page into a new chapter of my life - my 30th year. I'd venture to say this new chapter began a few months early, and so far I couldn't ask for much more.