It just happened to fall on the same day as her First Year Well-Check Up. In roughly a little over a year on the planet, it seems that my lil peanut has grown from the 6% in weight to the 78%!! And her height? Shocker of all shockers: 90% and going strong.
Truth be told, I NEVER paid any attention to those numbers with my other kids because all of them nursed voraciously, slept well, and hit every milestone on schedule. But when I pushed out Charlotte, who weighed just a little over 6 pounds, I said, "That's it? She is tiny." The twins weighed more at birth than this little nugget.
In the beginning, as Charlotte struggled to latch, and lost weight, she was considered "Failure to Thrive". And as I was carting her to Kaiser every other day to have her weighed and measured, I looked to those percentiles for reassurance.
But with time and patience, Charlotte and I became rather savvy at this nursing thing. So savvy in fact, that as she would finish nursing on one side, I would ask, "Other boob?" Upon which, she would gently pull off, and wait for me to switch her to the other side. Sensing she would be close to finished on that side, I would ask, "All done?" On cue, she would again gently pop off and look at me like, "Okay woman, I'm fed. Let's party." I guess I figured when Charlotte was done with nursing, she would let me know in her own way.
With all my other girls, the first birthday HAPPILY marked the end of Mama's Milk! FREEDOM! ALCOHOL in ABUNDANCE!! I logically figured: I grew you, and I fed you for TWELVE months. We're good. We're bonded. I love you. How about a hug, or a smooch, or a graham cracker? Let's read a book, or something. Here's a pacifier: plug up.
And so I just didn't really see it coming. Which in retrospect, is a blessing. Our doc appointment, that had been going oh so well, ended rather violently, with shots. I f'ing despise shots. I seriously blocked out shots with the twins: survival instinct. Shots are rugged to watch, horrible to endure, and just plain suck. As my lil Charlie howled with discomfort, I offered her the only thing I had: booby. Which brings us full circle...
While hiking with Abigail recently, I began to realize how quickly, these times are a changing. My babies are in SIXTH grade. In the blink of an eye, they'll be in college. And then off, living their own lives...sniff, sniff.
Without wanting to entirely freak her out by bringing up the subject of boys, I wanted to seize the moment of she and I alone...which happens so rarely with our ginormous clan. I asked her, "Abby, what qualities do you see in Daddy that you admire?" She answered without hesitation.
"Daddy is really good listener. It's like he understands how I feel. He's very kind, and always thinks of others first." My daughter went on and ON, for quite some time. I was thoroughly impressed that she is so observant. Many of the traits that Abby admired, were the reason I fell in love with Tom. She turned, and said to me, "What about you Mom? What do you like about Daddy?" I answered, "In addition to everything you have already mentioned, I really admire Daddy's deep faith and belief in God. I learn a lot by watching him."
Not many. No ladies, not too many. Tom Walsh, Super Genius is one of those few fine specimens. When I showed him the horrible 80's get up, he didn't shout, "HELL NO!"
You know what he said? "Babe, thanks for getting me a Halloween costume." Now that's a keeper right there.
Dudes...take notes.
Anyone who knows Tom, understands that he is a kind and gentle soul. So kind and gentle, in fact, that he almost let an elderly Vietnamese woman climb into our Yukon with us on Sunday.
Let me back up a bit. Our family had just finished a glorious hike at the Santa Theresa Bernal Ranch. 75 degree Fall day...perfection. The girls were tired, but content. As we loaded into our truck, Tom began the process of folding our Jogger down to load it. This is where elderly, Asian woman saw her opportunity to join us.
A plastic bag acted as her purse, and hung on her arm like a tree supports a branch. With her other hand, she kept handing me the magazines that she carried: a Woman's Day, and a Family Circle. She thought she was part of our family, I suppose. When in reality, she was just disoriented and a bit lost. She was well dressed, complete with purple crocheted hat, black winter coat, and white socks with blue flip flops.
After locating an address label in her "purse", we realized that she had drifted 2 1/2 miles from her home...if this was even, indeed, her home. To ensure that she would get home safely, Tom and I decided the best thing to do was call the police. We waited.
I took our Tommy Bahama beach chair out of the truck and placed it on the pavement. Tom gently held onto her, as she lowered herself to sit down and rest. That sweet little, old lady had more Jade jewelry than anyone I've ever met in my life. Gladly, she handed beads of jade to Charlotte. She reached for Charlotte and I was reminded that all of us, despite how old we will one day be, we all start out as sweet lil, chubby, happy cherubs.
So here were these two beings, Charlotte and this elderly woman, interacting and communicating without saying a word. Exchanging jade necklaces and smiles back and forth.
And if you ask me, this is as close as we can get to God while we're here. Because one little peanut, was JUST with him before she joined our family. And the other sweet little old one, will be with him soon.
For a moment, I felt completely filled up, and content. And it was good.
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