Category: Dear Alafair

Happy 4th Birthday, Alafair (and a little bit of 3rd)

9/26/2022

Dear Alafair,

Well, I missed your 3rd birthday entirely. I mean, I was there and we had the GREATEST strawberry party, but I didn’t get anything posted for you. For reasons that had nothing to do with you, it was just a crazy year. I’m going to put together another video that covers the missed year and post it here soon. Honestly, I’m not sure where to even start with this. Obviously, your speech has dramatically improved in the last two years, as you’ll see from the list below. This 4th birthday is a hard one–you’re definitely a kid now!! I’m watching you shed the remnants of toddlerhood, both physically and emotionally, and move fully into being your own complete human. It’s bittersweet of course. You’re growing up too fast, but what a magnificent creature you’re becoming.

Thanks to covid, I got to have an entire extra year with you at home! You were so ready to go to school last fall, and I think that’s actually made it a little more difficult on you as you’ve started school this month. But I’m still so grateful for that extra time with you. Last fall we went to Wiggins again where you drove the golf cart all over and ran naked through the fields on a daily basis. In January when Alice finally started school, you got to start Bibi preschool. You have a slight lisp so when you got up at preschool graduation and sang “Poor Little Bug on the Wall” in bug language, it came out as “Bsssth bsssth bsssth bsssth bsssth bsssth bsssth,” instead of a straight up “buzz” and it was adorable.

Earlier this year we got a puppy. Roux has been with us for 7 months now, and you’re still not that impressed. I can’t really blame you. He was just a tiny little guy when he first came here, who was actually just your size, but unfortunately had super sharp shark teeth that you quickly learned to steer clear of. And then before you knew it, he grew into a massive giant who is taller than you, can knock you down just by turning the wrong way, and loves to shove his wet nose right into your face. You yell at him a lot in an attempt to exert some authority over this furry giant, but it’s generally to no avail because he’s a dog and he loves you anyway and will never quit trying to gain your approval.

I’ve also started working a lot more this last year, and it’s been a struggle for you to have me gone so much. I have a lot of meetings with clients that are pretty short, and then I am gone longer (often overnight) when I occasionally attend a birth. I think part of the problem just comes from the abstraction of the concept of time–how long is mama going to be gone? A short time? A long time? And what’s the difference? Right now, gone is gone to you, and that makes leaving you hard for me. I do it anyway though, because working is good for me, I love my job, and I know that seeing your parents happy is good for you too.

You’ve grown into such a ham in the last year. It’s nearly impossible to get a “normal” picture of you. It took two days and over 200 shots to get an acceptable passport photo! And speaking of passports, where should we go?! The thought of stuffing you on an international flight (or let's face it, even a domestic one) still makes me break out in a cold sweat. You’re getting much better at controlling your big emotions these days, but you’re still a LOT to contain. But as of this week, we’ve officially run out of excuses. We have passports, and you’re FINALLLLLY fully vaccinated for covid, an event you’ve been planning for for two years now. “When I’m vaccinated, we can do…” ….a million things. Your list is long: go to New Orleans, go to the YMCA, go to Roaring Springs, go go go. You might be in for some disappointment. Or maybe we’ll just pull Alice out of school and travel for a year. Who needs an education anyway?

Oh! And somewhere in the last two years, your eyes morphed from dark blue into an indescribably beautiful…green? Hazel? I can’t pin it down. They actually change with your mood, which is pretty cool. I think your passport actually says blue, but it’s wrong now!

The pictures above say more than I ever could about how amazing you are. I love you most of all, Sweet Pea Tiny Witch Alafair Bea. You’re my favorite Red One.

Love, Mama

Two years of Alafair-isms:

Aloh beeloh-alafair burrito
Helmoh-helmet
Honky Beep- honk honk beep beep (book title), also a car
Saucy-sausage
Choffee- coffee
Looht- look!
Shoos- shoes
Aleeees- Alice
Pelloh- pillow
Pillupts- clippers
Menoh- medicine
Mayo- mail
Teet! - treat
Forf- fork
Pak Pak -backpack
SaMA- salmon
Ba-gnome- bottle
Peent- pink
Nax bohl- snack ball
Boontz- spoon
Tarpano- guitar piano
Baint- bacon
Tootpate- toothpaste
Dance- thanks
Diema- vagina
Tamat- magnet
Fahvie- favorite
Sot- socks
Nate- naked
Seedy Ba- conceited rabbit
Meety bahllll- meat ball
Tonty high- twinkle twinkle little star
Carkle- Good Dog Carl
Pahcohlcohl- popsicle
Sheckth- Chex
Effendent- elephant
Yam!- yeah
Wanoh- water
Brexy- breakfast
Umpsie din- upside-down
Seenaloo- her own word
Lily- little (lily bath, lily walk)
Bloonz- balloons
Assy sacky- Scatty Catty (book)
Munga- watermelon
Schlogit- chocolate
Pancaink- pancakes
Fingo- flamingo
Mernake- mermaid
Stuffes (pronounced stuff-is)-plural of stuff
Too muches-too much
Gonin- going
Kalwakka- kowala bear
Hostabill- hospital
Got-for: forgot
Queminnie- community
TIME IT IS!! - what time is it
Mayn't (pronounced maint): may not
Don't reprise me!!! (Surprise)
Enrique Ehglade-ious
Shitter shatter- chitter chatter

Hey! That's Alo's when me kid! (Referring to something she JUST grew out of.) 10/28/20

Me: how much does mama love Alafair?
Alafair: THREE!!!!!
10/28/20

I sweep my hairs! (Brush) 1/22/21

Mizzalizzabizabit - Miss Elizabeth (dance teacher) fall 2021

Pewp-poop. "Have I pewpened today?" Winter 21/22

"Why do some kids like me....X?" (Hit their sisters, pinch, fall down, etc) March 2022

Mama, why don't they make the sky lower so I can reach it? 4/9/22

Tape expenser (dispenser)

Alafair: it's raining!
Me: IT'S RAINING TACOS...!
Alafair: NO, mama!!!! It's raining water!!!!
4/28/22

(Alice sneezes) Alice? If you're gone be snotting in here, you need to go get a Kleenex.
5/14/22

Mama! White Ba WAS listening! (In high-pitched bunny voice): Oh oh I was listening, sorry I just forgot, I'm old. 6/7/22

Salmon tea is my favorite! 7/4/22

Oposta- supposed to

Why do dogs and cats have different ears?....did somebody just toot!? (No) 8/18/22

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Happy 2nd Birthday....4 Months Late

2/1/2021

1 Comment

Dear Alo,

This isn’t the nickname I would have picked for you, but it’s what you call yourself these days. Mostly in an extremely demanding, very LOUD, flappy arm sort of way… “alo!!!alO!!!!ALOOOO!!!!!!!!!” Yes, I understand. Even though that object you want is upstairs, through a locked gate, on top of a 6 foot tall shelf, you want to get it yourself. You pretty much want to do everything yourself. The other day you helpfully took off your poopy diaper for me. While standing up. Over a carpet. You are SO helpful.

I started this letter back in September right when you were turning 2. That part up there is still pretty accurate. Although now that you’re two and a half you would just open the gate, climb the stairs, then climb the 6 foot shelf. We really love your independent spirit!!

You are a kid with no middle ground. Your feelings are big, swift, and determinate. You are fearless, unless your sister has “suggested” something is scary, and then you are terrified of that thing. That’s because you worship the ground Alice walks on and want to do everything exactly like Alice. You always try to match whatever Alice is wearing. You like to wear the old clothes that used to be Alice’s best. This is a great phase. I know one day you will realize that Alice is getting all the new things and you’ll want new things too. But for now, you only want Alice.

You are exhibiting a remarkable ability to play independently right now for good lengths of time if no one bothers you (cough ahem, SISTER). You like to use the play kitchen foods to make White Ba brexy (breakfast) or "lunch-es". And recently you’ve started helping Mama make your special foods in the real kitchen. This is a really big deal for Mama since it’s been really hard building our food culture in a positive way around your different needs.

You and Alice have a healthy dose of sibling rivalry going on that I think is amplified by the fact that we’re still in a global pandemic and we spend nearly 100% of our time together. It’s….tiring. But I try to remember that it must be tiring for you guys too. You LOVE the mornings when Alice has Bibi School and it’s just you and Mama together. We play with all of Alice’s toys when she’s not looking (shhhh!), read books together, go for walks, or cook. I love getting to see what kind of person you are when you’re free to just do your own thing without much sibling influence. You’re creative and playful and so funny.

You are the type of kid that takes a LOT of energy to parent. You never stop moving and demand constant attention. The parenting books label you as “active” and even “difficult” (screw you, parenting books!). But what I know is that you also have a sweet side to you that is achingly sincere and innocent. You make a point to kiss ALL your toys. You give hugs with your entire body. You bring Alice her bunny when she’s crying. You are the full package, Alafair Bea, and I love you for it.

Here are some of your greatest words right now:

Helmoh, for helmet. I especially like it when we’re riding bikes, you see someone else wearing a helmet, point and yell at the top of your lungs, “HELMO HELMO HELMO!!!” Because let’s be honest, it sounds like you’re yelling “homo” at them and we always get sideways glances from people.

Umbli-eye--I think this is from a Mary Poppins song.

Seenaloo--We have no idea where this one came from, but you shout it as you run all over the house.

Boontz--spoon

Tarpano--piano

Baint--bacon

Effendent--elephant

Schlogit--chocolate

Stuffes (pronounced stuff-is)--plural of stuff

I’m sorry it took me 4 months to get your birthday letter posted. That’s life right now, and probably for the next...10 years. Happy Birthday, my tiny witch. I love you most of all.

Love, Mama

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In Pursuit of Starlight

4/11/2019

6 Comments

Dear Alafair,

Yesterday you turned 28 weeks, and even though the calendar says you're not 7 months for another couple weeks, I'm saying you've been with us now for 7 whole months. I've been waiting to write this first letter most of that time because I wanted it to be a letter full of nothing but joy. But I'm realizing I can't write that letter until I get this letter out of the way. I have to tell you how hard it's been first--for us, for Alice, but mostly I imagine, for you.

Things with you went South pretty much immediately (if we're being honest, they've been hard since you were about 8 weeks in utero). You failed your hearing screening in the hospital (but passed a month later). You have severe reflux and gastrointestinal problems, including possible micro aspirations and bleeding intestines. You have struggled desperately with latch from the beginning. We have had your tongue tie clipped, taken you to THREE different physical therapists, done mouth exercises at home, seen a chiropractor, a naturepath, two different pediatricians, an allergist, and a gastroenterologist. You've had over 35 physical therapy appointments, 15 visits to the doctor's office, 12 visits to the lactation nurses, and one visit to the ER. This means that in just 196 days of being alive, you've attended over 63 appointments, and that doesn't even include the countless phone and email consultations we've had on top of that. You've tolerated an allergy panel, having blood drawn, multiple rectal exams (to gain stool samples), countless weigh-ins on cold, hard scales, abdominal palpitations, a bout with thrush, a nasty head cold right in the middle of sleep training, and a constant barrage of medicines. In an effort to make the breast milk easier to digest, I've done a total elimination diet that consists of turkey, rice, potatoes, millet, and pears. Over time I've added back in avocado, bananas, oatmeal, and chicken. To say I'm starving is not just a turn of phrase, but a literal truth, as my clothes grow larger by the day. For three months you could only latch on one side so I pumped the other side for you. Your stomach was so angry all the time that we never put you down. You woke up to eat every 30-45 minutes for five and a half straight months. The only way you could get any sleep was if you were held almost straight up and down. Your dada spent the winter walking the dark and snowy/rainy streets with you at 3 in the morning while you wailed miserably. And while this has been unimaginably hard for us, I can't help but think it's been a million times worse for you.

Upset cry face is pretty common around here.

Not one, but THREE medical professionals have told us you are “the most difficult baby” they've ever met in their careers. The first was a physical therapist who told me she used every trick she's ever learned in 50 years of practice on you, to no avail. She also said you are the loudest baby she's ever heard. Then your pediatrician told us you were the most challenging baby to treat in her entire career. And then the lactation nurse said you were the most difficult to feed baby she’s ever met. YES!!!! WE WIN!!! Hearing something like that as a parent is both validating and horrifying at the same time. I have to admit though, I feel a perverse sense of pride in this somehow, especially the scream volume. I mean, here you are, only 7 months old winning awards and breaking records all over the place! Way to be committed, baby girl.

We've aggressively pursued every possible course of treatment we could for you, both traditional and voodoo. I've had many people, including medical professionals, tell me to just give up breastfeeding, which I've refused to do. ….Until this afternoon, when I was advised that it's medically necessary (practically mandatory) for your survival. There is literally nothing left to try, and in the past month you have only gained an average of 1.6 grams per day when you should be gaining between 10-15 grams per day. Additionally, if we continue down this path, we run the risk of creating lifelong food allergies, rather than just the sensitivities that you should be able to outgrow. This was devastating news, not only because I've fought so hard for breastfeeding, but also because you are still suffering so much.

How apropos for this day. I'm just not sure how many more times we can get up.

At the moment, I am literally sick with grief. I am nauseous, my head hurts, and I can't breathe from the sobbing. It is 4 in the morning and I am lying here wondering how you will know that I love you. I was already forced to take you out of my bed and now I am being forced to cold turkey wean you at the age of 7 months, a solid year before I even planned to think about such things. So how will you know??

A while back, a very dear friend jokingly called me a witch when referencing my power to influence her cycles whenever I'm around her. It made me laugh, and I've started to think of you as my tiny witch, with your fiery disposition and Earth-shattering howls. As your physical therapist so aptly put it, you experience ALL emotions with a greater intensity than the rest of us (this is one reason I love her).

I summarize all this not to complain, but to illustrate how hard it's been for you. We came home from that appointment today with a plan to finally get you on the right track. To the detriment of your health, I nursed you one last time and these were the things I thought about as we sat there together. You were so tired and fell asleep on the breast so I just held you and watched your sweet face, your tiny fingers resting on my chest. My heart breaks that we are losing this moment far too soon. It breaks more that you are suffering. Your doctor has suggested we try this for two weeks and then try breast milk again to see how you react so we could potentially return to breastfeeding. But we both know in our hearts that this is the answer for you and that this was the last time.

You are reacting to the proteins in the milk, which are impossible to completely remove from human milk. The milk I'm producing also isn't fatty enough--not hard to believe given my diet restrictions. And because you can't seem to just catch a break, this transition is proving to be hard too. Formula tastes bad apparently, and you do NOT like it. If I thought sitting through our final breastfeeding session was hard, I had no idea how hard it would be to watch you struggle against the bottle after. And then at bedtime, you anxiously nibbled on my shoulder as you usually do and I had to turn you over for another fight with the bottle and let you go to bed hungry. I can't bear it that I can't explain to you why this is better. And I can't bear it that all of these “better” things we've had to do feel like the worst things.

And that's maybe why I can't write the letter of joy first. Because even though there has been joy, it's also been the single most challenging period of my life on all possible levels. I grieve for you and your health problems. I grieve for us as a family and the stress this has put on us as a unit. I grieve for Alice and what I thought was going to be a difficult adjustment to a new sibling, has been so much more as both her parents try desperately to balance an impossible situation. I grieve for myself, and having to give up control over the way I'd prefer to do things with you. The single most fundamental human relationship--a mother nursing her child--is causing you harm and I feel powerless to help you.

And yet... despite this PROFOUND grief...if I look deep within myself it's abundantly clear that I'm not remotely powerless. We've done this together, you and I. To call this a struggle is to call a tiger a kitten. And even though my brain keeps skipping back to, “but what if we tried X instead,” my heart knows the way forward, even as it grieves. Because one thing is clear, when you don't feel like total crap, you are joy incarnate. You are starlight and pure golden sunlight wrapped all in one. Who wouldn't want more of that? So, we will keep doing the worst things in pursuit of starlight. We will cry together, for different reasons. And hopefully you will start to get better, and we will both have fewer tears. And you will still know, my sweet, most treasured, Tiny Witch, in every cell of your body, even without breastfeeding, that my love for you runs from a place so deep, so profound, and so fierce even I can't fathom. You will know. And we will have light.

4.12.19
UPDATE
After a SINGLE day on formula, you are an entirely different human. There were mercifully no more battles over the bottle today and you were consistently in a good mood nearly the entire day. It is clear that you already felt better. We are ALL holding our breath that this is just the beginning of better times to come.

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Happy 4th Birthday, Alafair (and a little bit of 3rd)

Happy 2nd Birthday....4 Months Late

In Pursuit of Starlight

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