Babies truly can learn sign language. Yesterday I asked Livia if she was “done” with lunch; she then repeated me and signed “finished” with her little hands. It was awesome! I’m not sure if I was more excited about her saying “done” or about her signing it, but you combine the two and what you get is a happily freaked-out mama.

Then, this morning she said “all done” completely on her own, without prompting from me, and waved her hands around in the air again. When Jeremy left for work she squeezed her left fingers together in a wave. She waved once before about a month ago but hadn’t done it since, so I was thrilled to see her do it again.

We’re having Livia evaluated for her motor skills next week as she’s a little delayed in the pulling up/crawling arenas. She’s obviously one sharp cookie, though, and I’m grateful to see how bright her mind is. Her physical movement is coming along, however… This morning she stretched and reached out for a toy on the kitchen floor, then smacked her face on the linoleum when she lost her balance. She has a little pink welt as a thank-you for her efforts. No wonder she doesn’t want to move—look at the consequences! ;)

Dear Livia,

Happy first birthday! There are so many thoughts flitting around my brain that I almost don’t know where to begin this letter. But I’ll try to record coherent thoughts anyway. A few days ago I watched some old video clips of you. When you were 2.5 months old, you were trying valiantly to lift your head. You were laying on your stomach and grunting away, as though you were an Olympic competitor in weight-lifting. Your face and body were so teeny and helpless. You had something of a crewcut for a hairstyle—short and tight on the sides and back, long on the top. You were so small, so beautiful, so YOU. And yet, I could see just a faint whisper of your personality, a personality that is so evident today.

Today you are such a full little being. You have a joyful personality, sometimes mischievous and rascally, and other times open and wholeheartedly happy. You have become a hugger, a snuggler, a head-resting-on-my-shoulder kind of girl. And though your daddy likes my hair both long and short, I’m considering leaving it long just so your sweet baby fingers can wrap themselves in my locks. You and I have developed a beautiful mother-daughter bond. I love being your chief comforter. And even though I greatly cherish my sleep at night, I still enjoy those 5:30am feedings that come up when you’re sick. They’re a special moment for just you and I, rocking in the darkness, no words, just bottle slurps, and lots of love and warmth between our two bodies. Though you’ll always be our little girl, these baby moments won’t last forever, so we enjoy what we have right now. We can tell you’re already on your way to being a toddler. Sometimes you look like such a big kid already, sitting up tall in the grocery cart or highchair at a restaurant, attempting to walk with our help or playing in the church nursery, or simply talking on and on in your baby garble.

We celebrated your first birthday party with close friends and family one week before the big day. The party turned out to be one we’ll never forget. Despite my attempts to control the barbecue—from coordinating balloon colors to organizing platters of food to decorating pink cupcakes—I could not, no matter how hard I wanted to, control the weather. Under a beautiful sunny sky we all huddled at Antelope Park in 57 degree weather. The wind cut through layers of clothing and those without warm coats were fairly miserable. And yet, to their credit, all our friends and family members stayed to celebrate YOU! The only person in attendance not celebrating you was you. And why was that? You had been drugged by your mother. Some well-meaning doctor the day before prescribed pseudoephedrine for your cold—little did I know it would snow you over during your first birthday party! Poor thing, you were so tired you could hardly hold your head upright and would cry if anyone tried to talk to you. Fortunately, on your actual birthday we were able to present you with a piece of cake and you, in true one year old fashion, smeared it all over yourself. At any rate, you had a very memorable first birthday party.

One year old. One year equals a surprising success for your daddy and me. Somehow we stumbled through masses of dirty diapers, untold numbers of bottles and formula canisters, more zerberts and tickles than we can count. In the past few days you’ve been learned to drink milk from a sippy cup—and boy are we proud! We can’t wait to see what this next year holds. We love you soooo much, Livia Raine. What a blessing you are.

Much love,
Mama and Daddy

**The pink blanket photo was taken by “Uncle” Jason during your birthday party. The smiley face pic was snapped by “Auntie” Renae the day before you turned one. Thanks, friends, for sharing these pictures!

After two trim jobs at home, Livia was treated to a professional haircut by the very lovely, very talented stylist, Carrie Nickeson of C&A Images (she also happens to be one of my closest friends). Carrie, mother to twin four year olds, perched Livia on an extra block in the hotseat, outfitted her in a baby smock, then gave her toys for each hand and voila! the cut was completed in no time. It was the cutest thing this first-time mama has ever witnessed. I must say I was proud that my 11 month old sat so still and was so patient. That’s the thing with being a first-time mother, you think every first experience, every first activity, is just the greatest thing ever and that your child is the most amazing being ever to walk the face of this earth. Livia will have successfully completed her first year of life this Saturday, so I think I’m justified in letting my buttons burst with pride. These “firsts” only happen once, right? And this kid is just so darn cute…

Dear Livia,

You’re now officially eleven months old and we have a few small weeks until your age can be recorded in years. Wow. I look at teeny newborn babies and simply wonder how my baby got to be so big!

Right now you’re in your crib where you’re supposed to be taking your morning nap. Instead of sleeping you are talking away, mostly in your favorite “a-a-a” voice, and rattling the sides of your crib. The rattling is a new thing. You’re suffering (quite greatly according to your cries) from your first real cold and you seem to be personally insulted by the runny nose and chest congestion. The cold so far has proven how very blessed I am as your mother to have a baby who is normally content and happy. Your crying kills me, both because I can’t always console you and because we’re enjoying little peace in the Tredway household. So while I pray for healing for you, I’ll continue to administer baby Tylenol (which you kind of like) and nose-wipes (which you hate with a fiery passion).

This month’s letter seems to be an appropriate time to mention how funny you are. Your facial expressions, your attitude, your body language, your words—they make us laugh each and every day. Even your pathetic “da-da” noises, said while starting to cry from whatever’s making you unhappy, are cute. The best thing of all, though, is your laugh. Who knew that baby laughter could elevate one’s soul to a heavenly realm? You have a bona fide sense of humor which just blows us away. Here you are, a new body and new mind in baby packaging, and you think things are funny. Amazing! The other day your dad was sweeping the living room floor and you, in your high chair, let out a little “heh heh.” I tend to think of Jeremy’s sweeping as necessary and mundane, but to you it was chuckle-worthy. And that silly Baby Einstein DVD we put on to entertain you when nothing else could? Oh yes, that too elicited a laugh. You offer toothy grins now in exchange for being jiggled, shaked and shimmied. I can already tell you and Daddy will be doing some serious wrestling in a few short years.

A few weeks ago you blew your first kisses—I thought my heart would crack in two from the sweetness! You sent them to Grandma & Grandpa Tredway and Auntie Bean & Eric. They, too, thought it was amazing. As your parents we are privileged to oooh and aaah at all your sweet, special firsts. In no time at all we’ll be celebrating your first year of life outside the womb. We say special prayers of thanks for the birthmother who lovingly carried you for nine months, for the birthfamily that cherished you for a short time after you were born, and for all the special people who helped in our adoption process. We can’t imagine our lives without you! Livia, you are the most beautiful 11 month old. Your daddy and I love you like we’ve never loved anything before.

Love,
Mama

Is it wrong to leave your baby in her very full and very stinky diaper while she’s happily and independently playing on the floor and you’re enjoying surfing the web and reading your email?

(Note: After this picture was taken, this “the playgym’s eating my baby” picture, I realized the little gym was just too little for my big baby.)

Dear Livia,

Hey, big kid! Today you are ten months old—and I can’t believe this day is here already. It’s no big deal when adults get older, but every month in your life makes a huge difference. I see you growing and changing almost before my eyes. Yesterday, in fact, it seemed like you actually looked older than the day before!

This past month your personality has made its presence known. Your eyes are indeed windows to your soul—by them I can tell what kind of mood you’re in. They light up and squint a little when you’re mischievous; they go completely round and slightly dull when you’re overwhelmed; they wear heavy lids when you’re getting sleepy. You have beautiful eyes! You also vocalize your moods… Happy noises and giggles quickly give way to coughs (which you sometimes use as fake-y cries) and sad “da-das” when you’re frustrated or irritated. You’re talking up a storm these days with more vowels and consonants than ever.

You’ve developed an eye for detail, which means that zippers, buttons, earrings and eyeglasses enthrall you. Your “go go Gadget” arms can pull off Daddy’s glasses faster than a speeding bullet (wow, two pop culture references in one small sentence!) so Daddy has been working hard to teach you “no.” I am profoundly entertained by the way you grab at his face like it is putty… You’ll pinch at his eyebrows and attempt to grab his eyelids. You like to stick your little fingers up his nose and rake over his mustache. Potentially painful but also very funny! You love to smoosh your face up against ours and press your little open mouth upon our cheeks. We’d do anything for these sweet kisses! You’re also a champion hugger now, holding my neck tightly with one arm and patting my shoulder with the other.

A few weeks ago, after I put you down for a nap, I wrote this in your journal. It still rings true:

When I hold you, I hold the world in my arms. You are all potential, existence of a spirit bound by skin and bones. You can be anything. You are everything. You are the world in baby form. How proud I am of you.

Happy ten months, Livia Raine! May God bless you as you grow.

Love,
Mama

Dear Livia,

Yesterday I took your mobile down. I suppose I could’ve picked a better time to do it than when you laid down for your afternoon nap. When I removed the colorful characters from above your head you looked at me like, What are you doing, crazy lady? Don’t you know I NEED that? I had to fight the sentimental feelings (the same ones I’m fighting now as I write this letter) because I do want you to get bigger and I do want you to grow older, even though I say I don’t. Right now your future is mine, and I am excited for each day. And for this moment, the sweet mobile is put away until another Tredway baby arrives or until a little Lawton is born. Feel free to safely stand up in your crib, should the desire seize you, whenever the time is right.

I imagine you’ll be pulling yourself upright soon since you began standing a few short weeks ago. As you stood at our coffeetable—the same one your grandfather scooted around generations ago—your little legs shook, your hands tightly clasped the tabletop, and your eyes shone with pride. It was adorable and it was an answer to prayer; I was just hoping you’d master a new technique before we went in for your 9 month checkup. No crawling as of yet, though you are choosing to tolerate tummy time a little more now. The jury is out as to whether you’ll walk or crawl first. Either way we’re going to have to clean the floors much better than we do now! My hearts about stops when you choke on a Cheerio or when I imagine you putting small objects in your mouth. Motherhood is full of potential worries like that!

Livia, you now have a full blown personality, complete with a mini temper and a joyful soul. You laugh with pure glee at funny images like Daddy twirling in the kitchen and at invisible images that only reside in your mind. You bounce and kick your legs with happy vigor when something fancies you. On the other hand, you’ve shown an amazing flair for drama (like your Mom, sigh) when you burst into tears after a toy’s been taken away. I first noticed this ability at WalMart. You had been sucking on a C.D. case (it was either Disney’s Greatest, Volume 1, or Derek Webb’s She Must and Shall Go Free, I can’t remember which) when the album fell into the shopping cart. Unsure of whether you should’ve been mouthing the potentially germ-infested article in the first place, I chose to ignore the mishap and then guess what happened? You, my normally contented and complacent child, burst into tears like someone had pinched your hand hard! I was momentarily stunned and on reflex almost reached down to retrieve your “toy.” I quickly stopped myself, afterall I didn’t want you to suck on the C.D., but you really surprised me! The tears looked so genuine and so intense, not at all this fake whining that I see in some babies. Anyhow, a new side of you has emerged and I, the mother who loves you incredibly, am fully enjoying it.

Your dad and I still sit and watch you for entertainment. Whether you’re blowing spit bubbles and babbling loudly or whether you’re sucking your fingers and pulling on your hair while being rocked to sleep, we simply adore you. You are ours and we praise God for you.

Love always,
Mama

Dear Livia,

Eight months old already! You’ve now lost the infant look completely and qualify as a “big” baby. At the mall yesterday I was amazed by how long you looked (from my angle above you as the Designated Stroller Pusher) and how you can no longer fit in those teeny baby clothes. In fact, we were constantly wandering between the infant and toddler sections trying to find 6–9 and 12 month clothing. And for some crazy reason, though we are in the dead of winter, JC Penney had short sleeve shirts and shorts all over their racks. In Nebraska babies can’t really wear such things until June and July… but whatever! I’m trying to do the smart shopper thing by buying discounted clothes for you for next winter, which then leaves me guessing how big you’ll be at that time. You’re so very tall (about 100% for your age, I’d bet) that you completely fill out all your current outfits and I’m already shopping for 12 month old items. Livia, our long, skinny babe!

This last month saw the exchange of baby toys for everyday items. You are far more attracted to our remote controls than to your bright plastic teething rings. You’d much rather bang a spoon on the table than play with your rattles or dollies. Every time I talk on the phone you try to grab it away from me, which makes for interesting conversations with the person on the other end of the telephone line. You are also now fascinated with faces. You grab and swat at them with surprising power and your parents are, for the first time, trying to figure out when you’ll understand “no.” A delicate baby pat, and your sweet open-mouthed cheek kisses, are always welcome… But the face slappage has got to end! We’re grateful for the insight and experience of Cadence & Halle’s mom and dad, and we look to Cadence to see what you’ll be like in one year. If you’re anything like this 21 month old you’ll be intelligent, creative, and quite willful at the same time!

A few weeks ago you experienced your first Christmas (family and presents, and more presents, and more family). The highlight of the Christmas season for you was a tie between flickering candles and wrapping paper. Candles have the power to mesmerize your wee baby mind into a motionless trance, while wrapping paper has the opposite effect. Give the kid some noisy paper and she turns into a flapping, paper-eating creature of giddiness! We felt very blessed to show you off at the Helman Christmas dinner in David City—and also very blessed to have so many family members who already love you so greatly. You made out like a bandit with a new carseat, a rocking horse, DVDs, new clothes and new toys. Now we’ve just got to figure out how to make Christ the center of the season and we’ll be doing alright.

I could probably write a decent short story based on this one month of your life, but who (besides me) would want to read it? So let me end this letter by listing last month’s firsts:

• first time eating applesauce, carrots, prunes, peas, barley cereal, pears and Cheerios
• first real cold
• first time taking only 4 bottles a day and sleeping 12 hours at night
• first utterance of “mama” to Daddy
• first utterance of “dada” (as a stand alone word) to Mama
• first time clapping while mimicking me
• first visit to an art museum (where you even got to see a Caravaggio and Goya)

From the time we walk into your sunlit room in the morning until the time we zip you up in your pink sleep sack at night, you are our entertainment and joy, Livia. We sure do love you.

Love,
Mama