A Baby Gait

Somewhere between Marin learning to stand on her own and toddling around while holding onto mom and dad’s fingers, we noticed her right foot facing outward.  Every step, there those piggies were, pointing right at two-o’clock.  Hmmm, okay, don’t be alarmed, I thought. This is nothing that Google can’t explain-right?  And there it was…out-toeing.  Our little peanut is out-toeing and tons of babies do it apparently.  I’ve read through a lot of material about this particular baby gait situation, looking for an answer, a fix.  And article after article, there it was, that same phrase that goes more or less something like this…Keep an eye on it. It should correct itself in time. Sigh. 

A common theme with baby predicaments so it seems.  And isn’t that just maddening, mamas?  I mean, I’m having flashbacks to that never-ending diaper rash from Marin’s first month and then the nursing issues like when I felt like I was milk-boarding her for a whole month, oh and then the sleep stuff.  What on earth?  But time and time again and question after question at well-visits, there it is. “This will correct itself in time.” 

Mommy lesson number 2,053 and a humdinger for sure. 

I even started to worry there was NO possible way Marin would learn to walk until this “problem” corrected itself, but then the darndest thing happened just a week ago.  

She took three steps.  

And those three steps have turned into TEN steps, Charlie Chaplin like in all their glory.   

So there it is; she is WALKING with her two o’clock toes pointed just so, and every now and then I’ll see them turn and face forward.  

Progress. 

Marin’s one year well-visit is just around the corner, so of course, we’ll address the issue with the professionals, but for now and for these first few steps, I’m sitting back and watching this really smart little wippersnapper get by just fine and toddle toward things with resolute determination…especially if they are due north (and slightly east;).

A Visit to the Nursery

Don't worry, we made sure to get a grainy iphone pic of a tired baby to document the big day ;).

This past Sunday we left Marin in the church nursery for the first time. There's a pretty short list of reasons why we hadn't gotten around to doing this yet, and I'm not really fond of any of them, so we can just skip that part. Let's just say Frost was right, way DOES lead onto way. Anywho, it had been a while since our little family enjoyed being AT church over opting to watch online. There really isn't anything like being THERE with the music, and the baptisms and the voices raised around you. It was long over due and so sweet to be there.

Before Andy and I made our way to the service, we walked Marin to the nursery. For some reason I had major butterflies about the whole thing.  I wasn’t worried about the care she would get. I was worried she would be afraid.  I was fearful of her being fearful…of an unfamiliar place, unfamiliar people. She has been left with family, but this was her first time being left with strangers, albeit the most loving and kind strangers. I felt worried even though I knew she would be in safe hands and so happy to interact with other babes. I can imagine the conversation, "Whoa whoa, you mean to tell me there's more of us? Helloooo, babies!"

We gave her a quick kiss and handed her over to a very sweet volunteer. As we found our seats in the sanctuary, I got misty eyed about the whole thing. Andy looked over at me mid-song and asked, "You worried about the moo?" I shook my head "no" and smiled. I got to thinking what an amazing day this was for us as parents, for me as a mom and believer, for Marin. It was our desire for her to know Jesus coming out in action, a tangible response to a really amazing TRUTH.  We want her to hear about it and be a part of this community.  We want to provide her with a place, a place where she can learn about, and feel, the love of Christ.  We want this for her.  We need it for our hearts too. It takes faith and trust on any parent’s part to entrust their little one to another’s care, even if it’s trustworthy care. Will they change her diapers right? Will they know what her cry means? Will they love her and cherish her little ways? Will they be gentle with her? Leaving is frightening. It takes courage. It takes grace.  It takes prayer. 

After the service, we picked up a little baby who played and laughed all but the last couple minutes of her hour there.  And my heart swelled up with pride and joy that she liked meeting friends and felt safe.  She and dad zonked out about five minutes after we got home, arms all intertwined.  The excitement gets to them. ;)

Spring.

Some seasons sneak up on you.  All of a sudden, while getting an oil change, you look up and BAM. A sapling or leaf or snowflake jumps in your face.  You never saw it coming.  But then there are those seasons that you’ve been sitting by the window, palms and nose pressed up, searching for just one tiny flower.  And when you spot that tiny bud, you leap or skip.  Then you feel you should hold it and speak nicely to it and offer it another drink, so it will decide to stay around for a while.  

Spring, welcome.  Where on earth have you been, missy?

With the sun shining and the temperatures warmer, we escaped the indoors and headed out to find a baseball game, some swings, grasssss. All that extra oxygen must have started to go to our heads because during our jog on Sunday we added an extra mile, and whistled our way through folding laundry, and I could swear we smooched longer and hugged and smiled more too.  Just sickening and wonderful I tell you. 

I think the highlight of all the extra sunshine was watching Marin on a swing set for the first time.  When you set your eyes on the picture, just insert the sweetest giggle you've ever heard. She loved it.

It is neither a quack nor a squawk

At some point on Saturday, Marin started quawk-ing.  It isn’t a quack, and it isn’t a squawk.  It’s her very own rendition of the two.  And I got to wondering where on earth she picked that up. We play with a little toy duck at home, but I didn’t think we brought it out often enough for her to take notice of the noise it makes. I’m really not sure. I mean, I thought she would say other animal noises first because we “moo” and “baaaa” with the best of them around our house. But no, she chose quawk.  And I love that she is making choices and showing us she is both listening and deciding. 

When she quawked at an elderly lady in the elevator, I just grinned so big and proud. That’s my little duck, or parrot, umm or something. 

Marin's Baby Book + Artifact Uprising

(source)

A baby book for Marin is in the making.  Andy and I have been collecting letters and pictures every month, pretty much since we saw that second pink line.  We've written notes to her about all sorts of things: how we came to learn she was going to be joining our family, my pregnancy, her milestones for each month, little love letters, etc.  We’ve also taken monthly pics, and had to dump iphone photos a few times because we live with our own personal celebrity I tell you.  So, what I have is a bunch of words and photos, crammed head to rump and trying to see how many of them can fit in a computer file.  I’ve made it my goal to start organizing all this info because I have one short month before Marin turns one.  (Hold on while I swiffer my heart right off the hard woods) and I want to finish her baby book, packed full of ALL these lovely things. 

I have lots of files to go through during ungodly hours I’m sure, but the part of this little book I wanted to share with you is the beautiful, beautiful company I’ve decided on for her book. Artifact Uprising is its name and they are becoming my second home as I compile Marin’s story.  If you have a book of memories to create, even if its all your instagram photos from the year, visit their inspired corner on the web. It’s, ahhh, just go. I’m not getting anything for sharing. I just have a disorder. Must. Share. 

Enjoy, friends.