Goodnight, Goodnight Moon

Our sweet little Annabelle changes every day. (She's changed an awful lot since August 30, the last time we posted to this blog. I blame the hiatus on house hunting, which is exhausting. More on that in an upcoming post.) Anyway, Annabelle. Sweet, sweet, sunshine and light Annabelle. Now 14 months old, she's close to taking her first step, close to saying her first few words, and, yes, our gummy darling is (finally!) even growing teeth.

One change, though, has been a little surprising: She's, well, how to say it delicately … opinionated. She's very, very opinionated.

Now, if you know me, this probably isn't surprising. I have strong thoughts on everything from fantasy football and the decline of journalism, to the taste of mayonnaise (awful) and Breaking Bad. Annabelle, along with being the lucky recipient of my eyebrows, seems to have acquired my opinionated gene. (Bridget, on the other hand, is pretty cool with whatever.)

This whole "Annabelle is super opinionated" reality hit me the other night. We were reading together, as we always do before bed. Lately, we've started to pick the books together. She'll shake her head to say no (which is the cutest damn thing ever) if she's not in the mood for The Very Hungry Caterpillar or Oh, the Thinks You Can Think. We usually read four or five of these literary gems before I put Annabelle in her crib. And the final book is always Goodnight Moon.  

Until one night last week.

Annabelle had started to rub her eyes, so I knew it was almost time. We closed a book about shapes and I reached for Goodnight Moon. She shook her head. "But this one is your favorite, Annabelle." She shook her head again. "Let's just give it a try."

I opened the book, turned the first page, and then Annabelle closed it. Aggressively. I opened it again. She closed it again. Because I love routine and tradition, I gave it one more try. She slammed it shut, then slapped the front of the book several times and yelled. "Okay," I said. "Let's not read this tonight." I put her down and she slept, as the saying goes, like a baby.

The next night, I tried again. The same thing happened. And then again. And again. And again. For some reason, Annabelle has decided that Goodnight Moon will no longer be part of her reading rotation. Not tonight, not tomorrow night, not ever. Why? I'll probably never know.

But I do know that Goodnight Moon is just a sign of things to come. Sweet little Annabelle will soon be telling us what she thinks of this book, that food, and everything else she comes across.

And while I'm really sorry about the eyebrow thing, I couldn't be happier about this.

The 25 Ways Annabelle Has Changed Our Lives …

Annabelle has changed our lives in countless ways since she was born 109 days ago. I mean, how couldn’t she, right? We’re now responsible for another human being who relies on us for everything 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

But countless is a stupid word. If you think about it, everything can be counted. So, this morning, I did. In honor of the impending merry holiday, I counted 25 ways Annabelle has changed our lives since September 4. Here goes:

1. It’s much harder to have a bad day. Annabelle can turn negativity around in seconds with one of her adorable, toothless grins. 
2. It’s harder to watch TV and movies. Annabelle makes a lot of noise and is frankly not very polite when we’re trying to watch Breaking Bad. 
3. The exercise/baby soothing ball is the greatest invention ever. Calm baby, tighter abs, amazing. 
4. We’ve watched A LOT of streaming shows. You think you’re excited for new episodes of Sherlock and House of Cards? Shoot, I’ve watched Behind the Mask. It’s horrible! 
5. Free will is a thing of the past. Simply put, you can’t just grab a nap, go for a run, or take a shower when you feel like it. This is a difficult adjustment. 
6. We clean up human poop now. It’s pretty gross. 
7. We get peed on. Also gross.
8. It’s much harder to go for walks, especially in the winter. Strollers aren’t exactly easy to maneuver over bricks and cobblestones. 
9. People like us more now. We’ve hung out with family and friends more time in the last three months than we had in the past three years. (Whatever. We can see right through all of you.) 
10. We’re more careful with our money. (Duh!) 
11. We’re more aware of the challenges of living in a 725-square-foot apartment. I’m speculating here, but I think Oscar is mighty aware of it, too.  
12. We sing and dance a lot more. (If you know Bridget, you know she’s always loved putting people’s names into song lyrics. This has now reached epic proportions.) 
13. We have excuses for social events we don’t want to attend. (Oh, you’re cousin’s first birthday? Gee, yeah, we’d love to, but you know, Annabelle …) 
14. It takes much, much longer to leave the house for anything. 
15. We’ve realized we need a bigger car. 
16. Baths, which tend to be relaxing, are now stressful. (They are getting better, but it’s still no picnic.) 
17. I now read books about women leaders and feel inspired for my daughter.  
18. I don’t immediately change the channel when I see WNBA highlights. (I change it, of course, but it takes a few seconds longer now.) 
19. A good night of sleep means something completely different now. 
20. Bedtime on Saturday night is no different from bedtime on Tuesday night. 
21. Our iPhones are basically just glorified cameras now. 
22. This year’s “family vacation” was spent in Cambridge. I was going to buy a souvenir, but I realized I already owned everything. 
23. We talk about daycare more than you talk about food, beer, music, and sex. Combined. 
24. We’re happier people. I know there’s a lot of debate about having kids vs. not having kids. There are certainly pluses and minuses on each side. For us, though, good God she’s awesome. 
25. It’s going to be the best Christmas we’ve ever had.