Dear Lila,
You have hit the double digits: you are 10 months old today! We began this month in the UP. Christmas vacation was wonderful this year, mostly because we got to share you with our families. You added so much joy and laughter to the festivities this year—you bring happiness wherever you go.
My parents loved having you. They changed your diapers, fed you food, walked around with you for hours (you walked with them as they held your hands). You loved climbing the stairs in their basement and did that for hours while we were there. You taught yourself how, all by yourself. We got to see “Grandma Great,” or “Grandma G.” as she likes to be called—my grandmother Laura. You absolutely loved playing with Bella the dog. You laughed so hard when she would take her ball right from your hand. We opened presents there and Granny and Papa gave you a musical toy with a little keyboard and drum and lights and a microphone. You quickly learned how to talk into the microphone and you are thrilled each time you do. It’s still one of your favorite toys.
We headed west to Ironwood next and spent five days there. Your Grandma and Grandpa are building a big lodge to fit all the family in and it was insulated and heated so we stayed there. And in the old cabin, too. You got to meet both of your Grandpa’s parents—your great-grandparents. They were moved to tears to see you. Great-grandma Betzold made you a blanket and gave it to you as a Christmas present. You loved playing with all of your funny uncles, they were all there except for Uncle Dan. You met Uncle Sam for the first time; he’s in the Marines and it was our first time seeing him in two years. You also loved playing with your cousin Emily, and she was so excited that you were there. You had your first Christmas morning there, and we had to open all of your presents for you, but you have enjoyed playing with them. One of my favorite memories from our time there is when Grandma took out her accordion and played whatever song we requested. We all danced and sang along and it was such a happy time. We’re blessed to have music in our blood.
You celebrated your first New Year’s Eve this year… and rang in the year sleeping in your crib. We had planned on going to a party, but you were sick with a cold and exhausted from our travels, so you, Dad, and I had our own little party at home. New Years Eve has always been one of my favorite holidays. It’s a time to remember where we’ve been and where we’d like to go. 2010 was a special, special year in our family because it made us a real family: it gave us you, Lila.
Since then, we’ve been trying to get through the cold winter days. Your dad has started his new job and he really loves it. We usually have Aunt Emily over a couple times a week and we often go grocery shopping with her too. We’ve also been having play-dates with other babies from the ward and stake and you love that. You take a little while to warm up to adults, but you really love playing with other babies. You help yourself to their toys, especially the ones they’re holding and playing with. You can be a serious at times, but I don’t think you’re a shy baby. You even try to keep up with older kids, which is terribly adorable,
So here is what you’re like at 10 months old: You still do not like food. You will sometimes eat some Puffs, crackers, spaghetti noodles, or potato chips, but only a bite here or there and definitely not enough to sustain you. You still love nursing, as much as you did when you were a newborn. You have become so much more animated this month—you really aren’t a serious baby anymore. You are silly and happy and smiley. Not so much at church (some of our church friends hadn’t seen you smile before until they came over), but in a setting where you can sit and play you are. You love playing ball, and when you roll it to us we clap and say “yay!” and you scream and clap with delight. Often if I ask you to say “mama” or “dada” you will, and sometimes if I ask you to say “Lila” you say “eye-ah.” Your favorite words are still “dodd’n” and “nodd’n.” You sound Swedish. You’re pulling yourself up on furniture and on walls. You crawl like a pro and follow me around all day. You hate diaper changes now and we have to distract you with toys, but your favorite distraction is Dad’s Bluetooth earpiece. You love listening to Daddy play his drums and especially love it when he lets you play too. You love musical instruments. You’re a belly-sleeper now. You have taken the biggest poops of your life this month. You would go a few days without pooping, and then take epic, messy, disastrous poops. It would be all over your arms, hands, legs, feet; I had to shower you off and scrub the carpets. It’s a good thing you are so cute. You are generally a very happy, loving, sweet baby. You’ve started being more cuddly with me. When I’m laying down by you, you will rest your head on me and let me rub your back for a little while, and sometimes you will fall asleep that way. You’ll climb on me and rub your cheek against mine. You’ll sometimes gently head-butt the things you like. It’s all very endearing.
The most important event of the month happened just a few days ago, though. For the past several months, you have been sleeping in our room with us. Your crib is right next to our bed, with one of the walls removed, like a little sidecar. You wake up a few times in the night to nurse. It’s been a great arrangement. But ever since you learned how to sit up on your own and crawl, you’ve kind of been doing those things in your sleep, and waking yourself up in the process. So we’ve been waking up a little more than usual. I really don’t know why we decided to do this—Dad and I were feeling well-rested and you were getting around 12 hours of sleep a night and napping well during the day—but we decided to try the Ferber method of “crying it out” with you two nights ago. Dad put your crib in your room, we did our bedtime routine, and then at 8 o’clock we set you in your crib and left the room. Dad checked on you three times; once after 5 minutes, then after 10 minutes, then after 15 minutes. You cried for around 45 minutes, total, and then stopped. We were surprised that the crying only last that long; we knew that sometimes babies cried for 4 or more hours on the first night. Dad peeked in to see if you had fallen asleep, but you were just sitting there in your crib, quietly, looking at the nightlight. We figured that you would fall asleep soon. Well, six hours later you were still sitting in your crib, awake! You hadn’t fallen asleep yet! Those six hours were some of the longest hours of my life, so I can’t imagine how they felt for you. Every time I would look in and see you sitting there by yourself in the dark, my heart ached and I would sob to your dad and question if this was right or not. We tried lying in bed for a few hours, hoping that you would fall asleep, but we couldn’t sleep knowing that you were sitting there awake, all alone. Finally, at 2:30 am, Dad got you from your crib and brought you to bed with us. You fell asleep as soon as you were in Dad’s arms. I cried a lot the next morning too, just thinking about the image of you alone in your crib. Dad felt terrible too. I joked that you outsmarted Ferber, but really, I was miserable. I thought about our options, of letting you try it again another night, but it felt so wrong. Something that brought so much misery to my heart couldn’t be right for us. So, Dad and I talked and decided that what we had been doing with you was exactly what we loved: to be near you and to comfort you when you need it. It’s not the tidiest way to parent, but it feels so right. I told Dad that I didn’t know I was such a “hippy” until I became a mom.
I heard a new song recently, written by a mama for her baby. The line I love the most says, “When I hear you, and you’re crying, it resonates, dear, in a place I didn’t know was there.” That’s exactly how this whole motherhood experience has been for me so far: feeling the most exquisite joys and pains in a place so deep within myself, I didn’t know it was there until I had you. A phrase from the Book of Mormon comes to mind: after experiencing the pure love of the Savior, a person’s “soul… expand[s].” That’s exactly what becoming a mother—your mother—has done to me: it has expanded my soul and made room for more love than I knew I could feel. I love you so much, Lila, and I hope you feel it in your soul, too.
Love,
Mama
Mama
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