<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633</id><updated>2011-09-06T09:50:40.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Belle Elizabeth</title><subtitle type='html'>Thoughts on my sweet firstborn daughter</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-8649228802456562049</id><published>2011-01-25T18:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T09:48:47.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'>20 comments on my 20 month old</title><content type='html'>&lt;A href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TT-nVAWoIzI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/-M17NUo0Nrk/s1600/DSC08476.JPG"&gt;&lt;IMG style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566351643767218994 border=0 alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TT-nVAWoIzI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/-M17NUo0Nrk/s320/DSC08476.JPG"&gt;&lt;/A&gt; &lt;br /&gt;1.) I packed Belle's Frosty the Snowman movie away with the rest of our Christmas stuff. She had just about stopped asking for him until she saw a picture of her cousin Eli with "Frosssy" and started begging for him again. I caved to her sweet little "Frossy" dance last week, so Christmas is still lingering around our house... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.)I am amazed at how cute the hot pink Hello Kitty polish looked on Belle's little nails, and how HIDEOUS it looked on mommys! Hamilton even commented on how "attractive" it was, but I wore it proudly because my little girl really wanted her mommy to paint her nails too :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.)Every time I see Belle model something I didn't specifically teach her, like putting her "contacts" in, I am reminded of how careful I really need to be in word &amp;amp; deed... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Hamilton was cleaning his guns when I left for the store. When I returned, it didn't appear he had made much progress. In answer to my questioning look, he replied, "Belle woke up." I think he can sympathize with the fact that chores do take a little longer with a toddler underfoot! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Socks-Shoes! Socks-Shoes! Socks-Shoes! Socks-Shoes! (Belle is at the repeating phrases over &amp;amp; over &amp;amp; over stage. What makes me laugh most though is seeing my husband's expression about the 50th time she repeats something, and yes we do answer her) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) Love hearing my baby laugh over silly faces with mommy or chasing Nina with daddy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) Belle: "Ho-Ho. Pa-no. Daddy. Notes!" Interpretation: "Yes, Belle. Santa brought you a piano because daddy asked him to. Here are your music notes, honey." She is so quirky sometimes, she insists she needs "notes" to play the piano. Also, when she asks me to play with her, she only wants me to play one specific key. She says, "That one, mommy." Funny thing, it is the only key that sticks and sounds differently than the rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) Hamilton says I hold Belle too much, but in the blink of an eye, I know my baby will outgrow standing on my feet with arms raised pleading "hold you, mommy!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) When I told Belle we were going to church, she exclaimed "BIBLE! BANANA! BIBLE! BANANA! BIBLE! BANANA!" Coincidentally, I had packed a banana for her church snack the last few Sundays, so now she thinks it is a church essential too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) Belle really enjoys hide-n-seek, and her daddy likes picking incredibly hard places to hide. I had to laugh, when we found daddy and his long legs curled up in our door less cabinets "hiding." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.) To test Belle's familiarity with her books, I started letting her complete certain sentences in each one. I would say she is &lt;EM&gt;more&lt;/EM&gt; than familiar. My favorite is hearing her say, "GO DOG! GO!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.) Belle is way more cooperative letting daddy brush her teeth and cut her nails than she is with me. I think she already has it figured out that daddy is the gentle and patient one. :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.) Biblical instruction is always the way to go. Proverbs 29:15. By far the quickest way to curb Belle's sassy behavior is with a paddle pop on the bum. I thought it was kind of odd that she likes to climb up and hold her "pa-pull," until I caught her quietly trying to shove it out the dog door. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.) Belle loves her cousins. She talks about "T-T, E-I &amp;amp; Ra-rah" all the time. One of her favorite questions is "T-T come?" She talks about E-I every time she puts on her Turtle PJ's "Pam" gave her and when she sees any picture of herself as a baby :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.) I like playing with "pa-ough" (play-dough) more than Belle. She is fascinated with the play dough scissors. The whole time we have it out, she says, "I CUT" I CUT!" while I roll it out. Play dough really is quite therapeutic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.) I have always heard children thrive on routine, so I do my best, but thankfully, I have Belle who is always quick to remind her old forgetful mother how we did it last time! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.)Maybe it is just disorganized me, but I have the hardest time keeping up with a matching pair of those little things! I really think the washing machine eats them... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.) Belle's most hyper time of day is right after dinner and before her bedtime routine. Hamilton calls her her "after-dinner energy." She does get really wound up, especially when daddy is home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.) After a few nights of midnight wake-ups, I explained to Belle that if it was still dark outside she needed to lay her head on her pillow and go back to sleep. Now, I ask her what to do if she wakes up and it is still dark, and she yells "SLEEP!!!" Believe it or not, this method has worked for the last couple weeks. She is still waking up, but she seems to be quickly going back to sleep on her own! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.) Breaks my heart when Belle asks me "Daddy home?" and I have to tell her no. She then asks, "Daddy work?" "Yes, honey. Daddy wouldn't miss giving you "good hugs night-night" for any other reason...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS- The video is more than a month old, but it shows her obsession Frosty, so I thought I would add it. (Don't mind my voice) The Frosty dance still lacks rhythm at 20 months too...sadly neither of her parents have any dancing skills to model :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-42286045deb6d47b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D42286045deb6d47b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331142401%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D786DB4208194961766C2506DEC1EE008D0F467BC.210103833BCEAEC57EF3D5CD2E2FB156E15EC866%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D42286045deb6d47b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DXrhTtitzmgxUDBWbetk293EmUvA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D42286045deb6d47b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331142401%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D786DB4208194961766C2506DEC1EE008D0F467BC.210103833BCEAEC57EF3D5CD2E2FB156E15EC866%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D42286045deb6d47b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DXrhTtitzmgxUDBWbetk293EmUvA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-8649228802456562049?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/8649228802456562049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2011/01/20-months-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8649228802456562049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8649228802456562049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2011/01/20-months-now.html' title='20 comments on my 20 month old'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TT-nVAWoIzI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/-M17NUo0Nrk/s72-c/DSC08476.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-3691835016615527241</id><published>2010-12-09T06:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T05:29:15.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk using only 100 words</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TQGefeC076I/AAAAAAAAAHE/-nC6GzbbcUw/s1600/DSC03102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TQGefeC076I/AAAAAAAAAHE/-nC6GzbbcUw/s320/DSC03102.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548890479375216546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Belle's 18 month checkup a couple weeks ago, the doctor asked me how many words my daughter was using. Caught off guard, I guessed at least 25 or so. Well, I decided to actually record exactly what I heard her say repeatedly for a one-week span. Turns out, I sold her short. She has about a 100 word vocabulary. I would say about 60% is very clear, and the rest you may have to know her to figure out what she is saying. I thought it was interesting to categorize her first words. It seems she likes people &amp; food the most! A true southern woman already! :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Names&lt;/strong&gt;: Variations of Momma- (Momm-A, Mom-EEE &amp; AmEEE &amp; ME-ME mostly) DadEEE, Hamilton (comes out Ha-he-ton) TJ (comes out DJ), Sarah, Eli, SUUzie (her doll), Granny, Grandma (comes out MAA-MAW), Granpa, Jesus, Joseph, Mary, Noah, Georgia, Kyla, Josh, Belle, Nina, Nana, Alana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Colors/Shapes&lt;/strong&gt;: Blue, Hexagon (really funny to hear), Oval &amp; circle &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Numbers&lt;/strong&gt;: One &amp; Two are very clear &amp; she attempts three, but it doesn't really sound anything like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Food/Beverage&lt;/strong&gt;: Eat, Milk, Water, Apple, Apple-SSSSS (This is her version of AppleSauce---exaggerated SSS at the end of Apple), HighChair, Blueberry, CH-CH-Cheese (I find it interesting that some words she sounds out a few times before saying it) Cracker, cookie, cheerio, bowl, hot, cold, OOOrange, Banana, Coffee, IIIIce, bread, Yogurt, Ketchup &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Animals&lt;/strong&gt;: Animal, Cat, Dog Kitty-Cat, Owl, Turtle, Duck, Bone, Horse, Alligator &amp; a lot more animal sounds.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Answers to questions&lt;/strong&gt;: I don't know, NO-NO-Uh-Uh, (She never stops at just no, she says it at least twice &amp; adds an uh-uh) YeSS, Yeah, Sure &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Places we go:&lt;/strong&gt; Every time we pass, Belle points out the window and excitedly yells "church" or "BI-Lo" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clothing/Accessories/Body Parts &amp; functions&lt;/strong&gt;: Shoes, Stick (She is actually requesting Lipstick, but she shortens it to stick &amp; rubs her lips), Piggies, Poop, Heart, Hat, Socks, head, diaper &amp; ...(unmentionables) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Around the house&lt;/strong&gt;: Bible, Stool, Book, Bed, Car, Tree, Lights, Scissors, Mess, babies, Medicine (she would be an addict if I let her...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Commands&lt;/strong&gt;: GO, Sit (She insists TJ and Nina need to sit all the time), Stop, Help, MMM-MM-MORE, Out, UP, Outside, Sing (Yes, she now instructs me to sing) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Manners:&lt;/strong&gt; Please, Thankyou, Yes-Mam (Still working on consistent politeness, but she can say them) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feelings:&lt;/strong&gt; Happy, OWWWWW, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Other:&lt;/strong&gt; Choo-Choo (Train), Ho-Ho (Santa), Amen, Tinkle-Tinkle-Tinkle (Twinkle-Twinkle) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Two-word &amp; Three word sentences&lt;/strong&gt;: "I NEED _____" I need shoes was the first thing I heard her say, but she has also added cheese, cookies, and a chair to her list of "needs" (as if this child lacks much in life, right?) She also says, "I know" "Hold you" "I did" "One more" (This is a favorite because she always wants to read one more book) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, Belle &amp; I converse well. At least I know she understands EVERYTHING I say, and she is fairly predictable even when she occasionally rambles on about who knows what. Her dramatic body language and gestures say it all even when she can't find the right words. I am sure talking with such a limited vocabularly must be frustrating at times, but I keep reminding her the Bible does say "be slow to speak &amp; quick to hear" (something her mother doesn't model well) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise this will be my last post about Belle-speak because she is adding too many words each day to keep up with. Poor Hamilton. He is on his way to NEVER having any peace &amp; quiet in his house with two chatty women bending his ear...He loves us though :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-3691835016615527241?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/3691835016615527241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/12/words.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/3691835016615527241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/3691835016615527241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/12/words.html' title='Talk using only 100 words'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TQGefeC076I/AAAAAAAAAHE/-nC6GzbbcUw/s72-c/DSC03102.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-5000678712675638088</id><published>2010-11-21T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T18:49:34.544-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My little Cinderella</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TQGUIPFPHEI/AAAAAAAAAG8/VjYXdrSvakg/s1600/DSC03015_edited-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TQGUIPFPHEI/AAAAAAAAAG8/VjYXdrSvakg/s320/DSC03015_edited-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548879085105519682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my last post, I joked about teaching Belle how to do laundry. I didn't realize it until now, but in the three months since that blog, my little Cinderella has picked up a lot of responsibilities around the house, including some in the laundry room. In addition to putting her dirty clothes in the laundry basket, she enjoys putting the wet clothes I hand her from the washer into the dryer. Not only does she "put her books &amp; toys where they belong," but she also helps me put away the Tupperware from the dishwasher she is fascinated with. I also let her shut the dishwasher door when I am finished loading it. Belle is quick to let me know when the recycle bin needs to be emptied, as it is her job to bring the small blue can to the door so I can dump it. She loves to throw trash away, and can spot a trash can wherever we are. Funny though, I asked her to throw away an old shirt for me the other day, and she kept shaking her head no with an odd expression on her face because she couldn't reconcile throwing clothes in the trash. Once I showed her all the stains and holes and explained it was dirty and needed to be thrown away, she obliged me. She faithfully feeds Nina each night, and also helps bathe the dog. Belle is an excellent shopper. She can march into Bi-Lo, and show me right where the milk is. Belle occupies herself at the checkout line by standing in the back of the buggy loading groceries onto the conveyor belt. I don't mind the looks I get because I would much rather have her happily standing in the back of a buggy helping than  strapped in the front fussing. We live in the Mossy Oaks subdivision, so naturally our yard is covered in leaves. When I get around to raking/bagging leaves, Belle loves to add her little fistfuls of leaves to the bag. Belle really enjoys having tasks, and I am always suprised how capable she actually is. She is well on her way to being a productive member of the Wilson  household. Some may think I am crazy, but I don't believe it is ever to early to teach responsibility. Now, I have been warned she will outgrow the "it is fun to help" stage, but for now, I will enjoy her eagerness to be my little aid even if she makes an even bigger mess while helping...Hey, we all have a learning curve, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-5000678712675638088?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/5000678712675638088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-little-cinderella.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/5000678712675638088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/5000678712675638088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-little-cinderella.html' title='My little Cinderella'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TQGUIPFPHEI/AAAAAAAAAG8/VjYXdrSvakg/s72-c/DSC03015_edited-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-2126453170116199962</id><published>2010-08-10T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T20:14:58.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you fold yet, Belle?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TGIVNwjXP4I/AAAAAAAAAGk/EeTNu0eEya8/s1600/DSC08832.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TGIVNwjXP4I/AAAAAAAAAGk/EeTNu0eEya8/s320/DSC08832.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503985020715876226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The laundry basket of clothes is waiting to be folded, but I thought I would procrastinate a few more minutes and write a few quick blurbs about my 14 month old  before she moves onto bigger and better things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Belle loves to sing. She can do the hand motions to "This little light of mine," "Deep &amp; Wide," and the "Wheels on the Bus." She lights up like a Christmas tree when her grandaddy sings her "Grandaddy's girl," and her little voice is never sweeter than we she attempts to sing "Jesus loves Belle." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Belle had her first real date with daddy this past Saturday. They went on an outing to the Pet Store. I missed them, but certainly did not miss the smells of a Pet Store. Those two were in heaven, I am sure, but of course daddy took no photos or videos of their day to prove it. With or without the pictures though, I could tell they had fun, and I hope they will be able to enjoy many future little dates together!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When I lay Belle in her crib each night, I usually rub her back for a few minutes. One night, I went to walk away and she stood up as fast as she could. I thought she wanted a kiss goodnight, but by the time I got back over to her, she threw herself back down on the matress and hiked her little bottom up in the air indicating she wanted the massage to continue. This drama quickly became a norm in her bedtime routine mainly because she always wants one little extra "rub," and it always makes me smile.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*For the past two weeks, Belle is never alone. She drags her doll Suzie everywhere.  Suzie was my favorite doll as a child, so I think it is really neat that Belle is attached to her right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Belle robotically demonstrates where her body parts are, but she really enjoys rolling her tongue and knocking on her knee. She points to heaven when you ask her where God is. She likes putting together puzzles. She colors a little, but her real interest is in taking the cap off and on the marker. Lids simply fascinate Belle, she will spend an easy half hour playing with a water bottle. Looking at pictures and reading are a couple of her favorite activities aside from going "outside." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*My daughter thinks she is clever. She is under the impression if she simply brings me my shoes &amp; her shoes, then we will go "outside." We do spend a lot of time outdoors. She loves playing in her bubble car, picking up pears, going up the steps, looking up at the "tall trees," playing with the water hose, and walking around the cars to count all the tires. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Yes, Belle is a busy bee. I never understood why everyone who has a toddler seemed to use the same expression "He/she is into everything." Well, it is because they ARE. The age is so much fun though. I also love that we communicate and understand one another so well now. Maybe I will teach her how to fold clothes soon....LOL :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-2126453170116199962?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/2126453170116199962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/08/can-you-fold-yet-belle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/2126453170116199962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/2126453170116199962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/08/can-you-fold-yet-belle.html' title='Can you fold yet, Belle?'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TGIVNwjXP4I/AAAAAAAAAGk/EeTNu0eEya8/s72-c/DSC08832.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-4679442263321307518</id><published>2010-06-17T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T16:55:49.961-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little horns</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TCfk-VodidI/AAAAAAAAAGY/7hsX00fLdP4/s1600/DSC06870.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TCfk-VodidI/AAAAAAAAAGY/7hsX00fLdP4/s320/DSC06870.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487606430584113618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belle's hair barely touches her ears and flips out over them. Hamliton says it looks like she has two little horns. With her mischievousness on the rise, I tend to agree that they might actually BE horns :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I frequently hear Belle stomp down the hall into her room and slam the door. She knows she is allowed to play with anything in her room, yet when I opened the door to check on her, she always has a look on her face like the cat who caught the canary. At these times, if I say her name, she gives me a quick glance over her shoulder and scurries away as fast as she can, even though she has done nothing wrong (as far as I know, anyways). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Nana joked that Belle has more hands than an octapus. My daughter really can empty the contents of a purse or cabinet in record speed. Cleaning up after Belle isn't so bad, but when she gives her latest treasure to her partner in crime (our dog Nina) then I really have a mess. I have found chewed up spice bottles, toilet paper and tea bags scattered all over the backyard. I really do have to watch Belle carefully because she is so quick on the draw I don't even see her sticky fingers sometimes.  On more than one occassion now, I have had to return into a store to give back a small item I didn't realize she had grabbed until I was buckling her in the car seat.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I am trying to find creative ways to let her explore and exert her independence without destroying everything. For instance, since she is still obsessed with Nina's dog food, I turned it into her chore. Twice a day, I now tell Belle, "lets go feed Nina!" No matter where we are in the house, she runs into the laundry room, scoops up Nina's dog bowl and hands it to me. I fill it and hand it back to her to give to Nina. This activity seems to satisfy her urge to touch Nina's food, and she is so proud of her accomplishment that she always claps for herself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Belle is certainly not shy about making her wishes known. She is quite expressive, with her latest face being a scowl. In case you can't read her expression or the eager shake of her head to know what she wants, Belle also provides an interesting array of loud noises, which Hamilton calls "squawking." The doctor warned us that Belle may soon enter the hitting and/or bitting stage. Thankfully, she hasn't done either (yet), but I have heard her give a few verbal lashings. I just wish I had an interpreter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   Although we can't speak her language, we know she understands ours, so Hamilton and I are trying our best to tame our little monster. It really does take a concerted effort to be consitent with the discpline at this stage because sometimes the things she does are just so cute! I have to stifle my laughter and correct her each time I see the look of intense concentration on her face and her little foot hiked up trying to climb on something. I know when she exhibits willful disobedience, however, that her behavior has to be checked on the spot. I also understand now why parents say that disciplining hurts them more than the child. It does hurt to see your baby's sweet lips pucker up and eyes well up with tears. Of course I would much rather see a smile on her face, but the Bible tells me I must train her to honor her parents. Right now, I am only dealing with seemingly trival matters, like jumping in the crib or crying because she doesn't want to stop playing with her new bubble car to eat dinner, but soon enough, Belle will be facing all the carnal temptations this world has to offer...Oh, I pray those little horns can be reached early by the saving and CHANGING power of the Holy Spirit...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-4679442263321307518?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/4679442263321307518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/06/little-horns.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/4679442263321307518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/4679442263321307518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/06/little-horns.html' title='Little horns'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TCfk-VodidI/AAAAAAAAAGY/7hsX00fLdP4/s72-c/DSC06870.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-5111144760397686325</id><published>2010-05-27T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T18:00:10.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On my one year old...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TAZnQeKg5LI/AAAAAAAAAGI/SJvYtHaV5Lg/s1600/DSC04267.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TAZnQeKg5LI/AAAAAAAAAGI/SJvYtHaV5Lg/s320/DSC04267.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478179529415517362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has blessed us with a beatiful one year old baby girl! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON TALKING: &lt;br /&gt;Belle babbles quite alot. I catch new words she attempts almost each day, but some of the ones she repeats quite regularly are: "Maaaaaaa-ma, Daaaaaaa-da, Grannnnnn-dad-dy, DDDDDD-J (TJ), Niiii-Da (Nina), O-kay, Yoooooogurt, Milk, Crack-er, Bottle, Gooooooo, Dank-you, Book, Got it, &amp; All done." She has a word for "outside" too, but it doesn't sound remotely close to the correct pronunciation. Belle-speak is adorable, but you don't get the whole effect unless you see her little head shaking the entire time she talks... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON LAUGHING&lt;br /&gt;Belle finds random things very amusing now, but her favorite comedian is herself. The other day, she was beside herself with laughter after discovering Nina's tail. Actually, anything involving Nina is funny to Belle. She chuckles at her reflection in the mirror and when she is pleased with herself for an accomplishment. I think the sound of her own cackle tickles her goat, resulting in more laughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON EATING &lt;br /&gt;At mealtime, she is usually happy to eat whatever we do. Given her healthy appetite, I wasn't too concerned about weaning her, and thankfully, the process proved painless for both of us. Two weeks before her birthday, we substituted one feeding for a glass of milk until we had completely stopped nursing. On her first full day as a one year old, she had fully transitioned to whole milk and has thus far has had no adverse reactions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON STATURE: &lt;br /&gt;At one year, Belle is 18.2 lbs and 28 inches long. She has 6 teeth and is working on a couple more. Her hair has turned blonde and is starting to thicken a lot in the back, but she still doesn't have enough to hold a barrette. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON WALKING &lt;br /&gt;Belle took her first steps several weeks before she actually started walking. Just like crawling, I had seen she was fully capable, it was just a matter of her deciding she was ready to take off. After trying everything in her power to get out of the doctors office, I guess she determined it was time. She ripped the band aids off her legs from the shots and started walking across our living room between Hamilton &amp; I. I am glad we were both there to see her take off. She hasn't stopped since. She rarely crawls now because she prefers walking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON PERSONALITY &lt;br /&gt;Belle is one determined little girl. She knows exactly what she wants and is quite expressive in making her wishes known. Instead of pointing, Belle reaches (dramatically). When she is hungry, she goes to the pantry or fridge and reaches up. If the blinds are open, she will reach for her outside toys and grunt at the window. While we are reading, she reaches for the books she wants off her bookcase. Although TV is watched sparingly, she will go get one of her videos, hand it to me and reach for the television. At the park, she practically thrusts her entire body towards the swings (her favorite). I always have to keep a good hold on Belle in the pool so she doesn't jump out of my arms reaching for all the ducks or to try to climb out of the water. Lately, she is trying to teach herself something new each day. On her own, she picked up her sandal and tried for at least 10 minutes to get her chubby foot in it. Yesterday, she tried to put on my gown and got it wrapped around her neck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ON LISTENING &lt;br /&gt;Over the past few weeks, I realized Belle understands a lot more than I thought, so we have been working on simple instructions. She has mastered all the commands in her Pat the Bunny book, and can point to the dog's eyes in her Clifford book. Following songs like "If your happy and you know it," or "Pat-a-Cake" are no problem. She knows how to "love," "wave" (her obsession), "brush her teeth," "sit in her chair," "drink," "get her book," "dance," "pray," "push her baby in the stroller," "no," "go to the kitchen," and much, much more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure the majority of one year olds have the same "accomplishments," however, I have to record all the small fabulous details on mine because well, she is mine ;) So thankful God loaned her to us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-5111144760397686325?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/5111144760397686325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/05/on-my-one-year-old.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/5111144760397686325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/5111144760397686325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/05/on-my-one-year-old.html' title='On my one year old...'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/TAZnQeKg5LI/AAAAAAAAAGI/SJvYtHaV5Lg/s72-c/DSC04267.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-8753005869798758303</id><published>2010-03-22T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T20:47:36.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Third Leg</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/S61-9G89BWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/tcbGUAm0rik/s1600/DSC01698_edited-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 178px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/S61-9G89BWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/tcbGUAm0rik/s320/DSC01698_edited-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453154312118928738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    God blessed me with two sturdy legs, but the extra one He gave me recently has helped change my pace. Once a busy businesswoman, I rushed everywhere. It is difficult to speed, however, with a little one hanging onto you for dear life. Motherhood has definitely transformed my lifestyle, but for the better! Belle is such a joy! &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;    Last weekend, my mother-in-law asked me if I knew what a good baby I had. Since she is my only child, I don't really have a standard of comparison, but I have no complaints! I can take her anywhere, she is an excellent traveler. As long as I have a steady stream of items to satisfy her curiousity, she is perfectly content in her carseat. In fact, Belle likes to leave the house, especially to be outdoors. She seems to thoroughly enjoy exploring new surroundings and waving at strangers. During our Publix trips, people constantly tell me, "What a FRIENDLY baby HE is!"  (Poor girl will grow hair one day!) After a whole weekend with a stomach bug, my sweet little baby never fussed, but continued to flash her one-dimpled grin even in her weakend state. Teething has been noticeable, but relatively mild for the 5 she has  cut so far. Actually, the only time she really cries at all is when I try to leave her in the church nursery. She would much rather play quietly in the corner of Grandma's 5 year old Sunday school class than hang with kids her own age. Belle's naps are relativily short and she still wakes up at least once during her 12 hour slumber, but she is usually very easy to put down to sleep! Although the doctor was concerned about her weight at her 9 month check-up, Belle hasn't let her 15.8 lb stature stop her! Her palate is expanding daily, as is her independence. She prefers table food and feeding herself, especially meat! She enjoys playing by herself too. I can easily cook dinner while while she amuses herself with her toys, books, Nina's dog bowl, and my tupperware. (She takes a break every once in a while to pull herself up on my legs though!) Not only does she entertain herself, but I am always getting a good laugh at her too! I love to see her bounce with the music or my off-beat singing. The intruigued expression on her face when she finds a new treasure, like a post-it-note or a piece of wood, is priceless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I have a good girl. What a blessing it is to look down and see her hugging my leg and peering up at me with her big blue eyes. She is my third leg right now, and I wouldn't trade my extra limb for all the gold in the world!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-8753005869798758303?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/8753005869798758303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-third-leg.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8753005869798758303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8753005869798758303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-third-leg.html' title='My Third Leg'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/S61-9G89BWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/tcbGUAm0rik/s72-c/DSC01698_edited-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-6477063313217560268</id><published>2010-01-15T18:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T21:10:11.909-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My little big girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/S2Jf62ePSBI/AAAAAAAAAFg/3GKwrcowpJ8/s1600-h/DSC09258.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/S2Jf62ePSBI/AAAAAAAAAFg/3GKwrcowpJ8/s320/DSC09258.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432009565221636114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Her fingers are bigger." Hamilton notices even the smallest changes in Belle, but lately, everyday is something new. Her New Years resoltion was to crawl, but she still only moves when it suits her. If she sees something she wants, she has no trouble going after it, otherwise, she is content to just sit and babble. When she decides she has had enough, she reaches for someone to pick her up. My heart still melts every time I see those arms lift for me. She is quite fascinated with her hands, and she waves (Miss America style)constantly. I think she is relentlessly attempting to get the dog to wave back at her. Like her daddy, she is an animal-lover, but Nina doesn't really give her the time of day. Clapping is also her new game. If I say the word "Clap" or "Yeah Belle!" or "Pat-a-Cake," she clasps her hands together. At first, she struggled to pick up a piece of her baby cereal, but now she eagerly reaches her little hand into the container and pops them into her mouth herself. For the past few weeks, she has been eating 3 meals a day, including a hearty helping of oatmeal for breakfast. Occasionally, she gets a bite from our plate too. She loves a bite of daddy's blueberry muffin and she finishes off his green beans too! Belle is quite expressive though, there is no mistaking her preferences. Even Hamilton can't break the seal on Belle's lips when she doesn't like something. For foods she is merely tolerating, she will open her mouth halfway and shudder each time she swallows, but if she likes it her feet are swinging, hands slapping her high chair table and mouth wide-open before the spoon even gets out of dish. (Mostly when either squash or sweet potatoes is on the menu) Her favorite part of the meal though is washing it down. She absolutely loves her sippie-cup! It is a close second to her pacifier, which remains her best friend. As much as she talks and plays with her paci, you would think she would have it figured out, but she continues to suck it upside down. I have to smile every time because she always has a smug look of satisfication on her face. The same expression is on her face when she pulls herself up in her crib. She has been able to stand up for a while, but it still startles me every time I walk into her room and see her little hands holding her crib rail and those beautiful blue eyes glaring over the edge at me. Belle loves to stand, and she is beginning to get more and more brave from her upright position. She frequently lets go with one hand and has even stood on her own for a few seconds a couple times! Now that she is mobile, Belle entertains herself for longer periods of time. The walker is still one of Belle's favorite toys, and she has expertly learned to manuever it to get anywhere in the house she wants to go! Crawling and the walker has certainly given her independence, and she is into EVERYTHING! (including the dog bowl- yuk, Belle!) I love the chasing though! The best part is the adorable 2-teeth grin I get when I scoop her up! Yes, I have little big girl on my hands...:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-6477063313217560268?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/6477063313217560268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-little-big-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/6477063313217560268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/6477063313217560268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-little-big-girl.html' title='My little big girl'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/S2Jf62ePSBI/AAAAAAAAAFg/3GKwrcowpJ8/s72-c/DSC09258.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-2994130194924411884</id><published>2009-11-12T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T20:36:19.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's little girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SwN5IrBYGdI/AAAAAAAAAE4/J4cYJ8ufLPM/s1600/DSC03014_edited-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SwN5IrBYGdI/AAAAAAAAAE4/J4cYJ8ufLPM/s320/DSC03014_edited-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405297167669139922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks before Belle was born, I logged onto our computer to see a folder entitled "dad." For a second, I was confused and wondered when my dad was on our computer. Then, realization struck. Hamilton was really looking forward to being a daddy! My heart melted, as it has every time I see him with our precious little girl. Fatherhood looks good on Hamilton. I have enjoyed watching his loving, protective, but firm parenting style emerge....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are just a few glimpses of Belle's Daddy from the last few months: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*In the first few weeks of Belle's life, every time Hamilton handed her back to me, she had a comb-over. I guess this was his way of fixing her hair :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Belle's ear-hair amused Hamilton. He called her "teen wolf" until all the fuzz finally fell off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I'll never forget Hamilton following his baby to the nursery to make sure the nurses took good care of her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I don't know how many times I have heard Hamilton say, "There is nothing wrong with ya, sweetheart..." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Often, Hamilton chuckles at Belle and says, "She is soooo funny!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hamilton is already practicing censorship. While searching for a book to read to her, he decided we needed to toss out the book the hospital gave us called "I love my clothes." He said she can learn to love us, not her clothes. After pondering the meaning of some the nursery rhymes in Belle's book, he decided we should ban a few&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*So funny to hear Hamilton repeat "Rolllllll Me" after Belle's crawl ball says it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Belle's car seat mirror plays music, which is turned on by a remote. One tiny squeak out of Belle, and Hamilton quickly grabs the remote determined to put an end to her cry. So far, the sound of music works like a charm to silence her. Not sure what her daddy is going to do she is no longer distracted by it.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hamilton is amazed by Belle's slobber. He often says, "You really are a drool monster, kid." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*During Belle's language lessons, I would say "Ma-Ma" and Hamilton was quick to interject with "DA DA!!!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Quite often, Hamilton smiles at our baby, turns to me and matter-of-factly announces: "We have a cute kid." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hamilton is quick to rip of Belle's hats, cute rainboots or anything else she has on that he deems "uncomfortable." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hamilton says, "Belle, you know I love you sweetheart, but all that racket has gotta go." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hamilton had to leave for the police academy when Belle was 10 days old. He talked to her on the phone everyday and always looked forward to catching up on his "Belle time" each weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*At nearly 6 months old, Hamilton is convinced Belle is able to understand the meaning of "inside voices." Apparently, her squeal hurts his ears!?!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hamilton loves Belle to smile. I frequently hear him tell her, "You better smile at your daddy, little girl!" I have even seen him go as far as to copy me to try to elicit one. (Priceless, I tell you!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We use cloth diapers about 50% of the time, but Hamilton will only change her disposables. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Before leaving the house, Hamilton always instructs Belle, "Be good for mommy." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Everyday, I sing Belle "Mommy loves you." Hamilton informed me that I needed to include in the song that her daddy loves her too. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hamilton is all about hygiene. He watched Belle for an hour and changed her diaper three times! I also always catch him cleaning her ears and checking all her cracks to make sure she is a "clean girl" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Hearing Belle exercise her vocal chords is great, but listening to Hamilton mock her is even better! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I love that Hamilton already attempts to teach Belle the mechanics behind her toys and crawling etc....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Since I was scared to give her a bath, Hamilton gave her the first one. His advice to me: "Don't complicate handling a baby. It is just common sense, dear." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*I love that when Hamilton gets home from work, he sneaks into Belle's room and gives our sweet baby a good-night kiss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to many more father/daughter moments over the years. Belle is one blessed little girl to have such a loving daddy!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-2994130194924411884?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/2994130194924411884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/11/daddys-little-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/2994130194924411884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/2994130194924411884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/11/daddys-little-girl.html' title='Daddy&apos;s little girl'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SwN5IrBYGdI/AAAAAAAAAE4/J4cYJ8ufLPM/s72-c/DSC03014_edited-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-7048740627227241939</id><published>2009-10-23T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T20:04:28.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pressing on to maturity</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SuJsy4eitUI/AAAAAAAAAEw/RFdplNOgadI/s1600-h/DSC02328_edited-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SuJsy4eitUI/AAAAAAAAAEw/RFdplNOgadI/s320/DSC02328_edited-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395994924953023810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first 5 months of my daughters life, I had a hang up about feeding her. Nursing had become easy, and I just wasn't ready for something new. In fact, I was kind of dreading it, but I am not exactly sure why. Since she was sitting up so well, the doctor said she was ready to start rice cereal at her 4 month checkup, but he conceded that it was alright to wait as long as I started her on solids by 6 months. I read a lot about introducing solids, but I mostly looked for justification to delay. Of course, I found plenty of support for my case, but quickly discovered EVERYONE had a different opinion and there seemed to be no definitive right or wrong way. I decided to start taking baby steps (for me), so I bought some spoons a few weeks ago. Last weekend, I started putting her in the high chair while Hamilton and I ate each day. My feelings began to change as I listened to some other mothers my age discussing the subject. They assured me rice cereal is merely practice, and mostly breast milk anyways. Mom told me starting solids is a fun milestone, yet I was still not completely sold on the idea even though I was starting to sense Belle was ready. The book I am reading, however, reminded me of the dangers of raising a child to be codependent. After spending more time each night this week in Belle's room than with Hamilton, I realized something needed to change. She is quite active, maybe she IS hungry and needs more than breast milk, I thought. Even though research has supposedly disproved the old wives tale that rice cereal will help babies sleep through the night, I decided to try it. After all, Hamilton &amp; I turned out ok, and we were both started on solids well before 5 months. So, I said a little prayer about it and decided today would be the day for me to let go. As I waited for Hamilton to get home from work, I grew more and more excited. I couldn't believe I was now eagerly looking forward to the moment I had been dreading. Belle never turned down a bottle, and I just had a feeling she would do well eating too. She did even better than I expected though. As she grabbed the spoon and helped her daddy guide the mush to her mouth, I was glad I had finally got over myself. I am certainly not trying to rush my baby to grow up, but this milestone will always be symbolic for me. It is my responsibility to teach her the importance of independence and maturity both physically and spiritually. Hebrews 5 says "But solid food is for the mature, who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil." As early as possible, I want my baby to understand that God placed me in her life to guide her, but the only one she truly needs to lean on is Christ. Belle seemed to really enjoy rice cereal, but I can't wait for the day she finds the joy of Christs' table.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-7048740627227241939?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/7048740627227241939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/10/pressing-on-to-maturity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/7048740627227241939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/7048740627227241939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/10/pressing-on-to-maturity.html' title='Pressing on to maturity'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SuJsy4eitUI/AAAAAAAAAEw/RFdplNOgadI/s72-c/DSC02328_edited-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-6583650940241231219</id><published>2009-09-25T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T20:10:00.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One word</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SsK8mJVpKLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/cTX9aBL0XQc/s1600-h/Belle+%26+Mommy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 245px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SsK8mJVpKLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/cTX9aBL0XQc/s320/Belle+%26+Mommy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387075467816282290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I had one word to describe my daughter, it would be "princess." No, I do not consider myself a queen, but I do kind of feel like royalty every time she caresses my skin, or flashes a smile my way, or looks up at me with affection in her beautiful blue eyes. Yes, those simple rewards keep me hopping. For 4 months now, I have catered to my daughters every whim and loved every minute of it. I feed her, dress her, bathe her and entertain her. I photograph her so much people really might think she has royal blood! Grandma says Belle reminds her of the Princess and the Pea story because she always takes notice of even the slightest disturbance. When she smiles in her sleep, Grammie says she must be "dreaming of the servants waiting on her in her castle."  Well, at least I can be assured I might've made it to her dreams, even if just as her maidservant! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Belle has always been and will always be "mommy's princess." At some point, however, I know she needs to learn life isn't solely about being pampered. After all, I don't want a brat on my hands! Hamilton says she is definitely one "spoiled little girl." He is right, but I am not the only guilty party. Her daddy and both sets of grandparents are major contributors! You can't really give a baby too much love though, right? Just in case, I have started letting her grunt and groan for a least a second or two before I rescue her. As she grows older, I will teach her to turn to God first because He is a much better Comforter than I am anyways. I pray she will get to know Him intimately because as a child of the Heavenly King, she really WILL be a princess! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: When I asked Hamilton to tell me one word to describe Belle, he looked at her and said "SLOBBER." That is such a Hamilton comment, but I have taken a silent inventory of the nickname he calls her the most---She is "daddy's sweetheart." :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-6583650940241231219?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/6583650940241231219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-word.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/6583650940241231219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/6583650940241231219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-word.html' title='One word'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SsK8mJVpKLI/AAAAAAAAAEo/cTX9aBL0XQc/s72-c/Belle+%26+Mommy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-7871203617702235658</id><published>2009-08-25T18:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T20:34:40.725-07:00</updated><title type='text'>War of the fingers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SqcMsc2dKnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/iJtUDUanycI/s1600-h/IMGP3106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SqcMsc2dKnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/iJtUDUanycI/s320/IMGP3106.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379282237715720818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past few weeks, my baby's favorite toy has been her fingers. I told Hamilton keeping her hands away from her mouth is a 24-7 battle, but I don't think he really believed me until he experienced it for himself. He has been persistently prying Belle's little slobbery fingers out of her mouth since he got home, yet she continues to chew on them. &lt;br /&gt;Depending on her mood, she will still happily suck the pacifier, but if she decides she wants her fingers instead, the child will stop at no measure to get them. We will put the pacifier in her mouth, and she will immediately pop it out and replace it with one of her fingers. Once, she tried to compromise by holding the paci in one side of her mouth and her thumb in the other. She is quite coordinated with her thumbs too. She actually chews on her right thumb for a few seconds and then she switches to her left one. At times, she is so "into" her fingers that she starts gagging herself. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, much to her daddy's distress, Belle is determined to have her fingers. I will always smile as I remember how many times I heard Hamilton say "No mam!" over it. Lately though, the scolding has ceased. Hamilton simply stares at her as she savors her sweet thumb. I asked him about it and he said "I gave up." I guess she won! Quite the accomplishment for my daughter because her daddy does NOT give up easily. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-7871203617702235658?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/7871203617702235658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/08/war-of-fingers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/7871203617702235658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/7871203617702235658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/08/war-of-fingers.html' title='War of the fingers'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SqcMsc2dKnI/AAAAAAAAAEg/iJtUDUanycI/s72-c/IMGP3106.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-4862742947176240868</id><published>2009-08-12T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T14:34:16.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So much fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SoMzu25G16I/AAAAAAAAAEY/lRYwCX2t1nQ/s1600-h/IMGP2947.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369192060857800610" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SoMzu25G16I/AAAAAAAAAEY/lRYwCX2t1nQ/s320/IMGP2947.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SoMyxJnBUwI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/rG5MagDSPDo/s1600-h/DSC05970.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369191000730325762" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SoMyxJnBUwI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/rG5MagDSPDo/s320/DSC05970.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I had not quit, I would've went back to work this week. I can't imagine leaving Belle right now. She just woke up! I have cherished every lovable minute with my baby, but lately, hanging out with her has really started to get fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Belle's big blue eyes are always exploring. Her mobile and ceiling fans have always held her interest, but now that her focus has developed, it seems she is starting to really see the world around her. Not only does she look directly at me when I speak to her, but she intently studies the pictures on the books we read. She enjoys watching me open and close the blinds each day, and she is intrigued by any household object I show her. Belle probably gets annoyed with all the random stuff I stick in her face to look at, but I like seeing the expressions she makes when she sees something new. The best faces, however, are when she notices something new herself. She has sat in our over sized chair a hundred times, but just yesterday, she became intrigued with the pattern on it. As I lifted her the other day, she noticed the BELLE letters above her crib. She is captivated by the picture of Old Sheldon Church hanging by our dining room table. It makes me laugh when she pulls up her little clothes to stare at them or looks longingly at the pacifier that has fallen out of her mouth. It is exciting to see her curiosity with life at its peak, but my favorite look is when my daughter gazes into her father's eyes. Nothing could be sweeter than seeing her process love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it is cliche, but I am convinced that once Belle found love, she also found her voice! She has become quite the little chatterbox, but mostly when she has your undivided attention. Although she does talk to herself, if I read or sing to her, she really gets rowdy. The interaction is priceless. I love listening to all the sounds she makes. Every time her noises get really unusual, Hamilton looks at her and says, "Oh really?" It is amazing to hear the various tones of her chatter and cries. Sometimes she reminds me of a kitten. You can definitely tell a difference in the noises she makes when she is fussing, content, really excited or angry. My favorite noise is the quick little breaths she takes (to choke back her cry) followed by a satisfied sigh when she gets something she wants--like food or the pacifier. Hamilton and I enjoy mimicking her sounds. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We also enjoy watching her constant movement. She has mastered flipping to her side and subsequently her stomach. Her favorite place to roll is in her crib, where she always manages to get her feet caught in the railing. She normally doesn't mind tummy-time and enjoys stretching her neck. I still laugh every time she swats her little fist, and Hamilton especially likes to see her legs kick up in the air like a frog. She has started splashing around and kicking the water when she takes a bath too. Much to her daddy's distress, I think her favorite activity is pulling her shirt or dress over her head. She has also started to push on everything. I can't hold my laptop and her in my lap anymore for fear she will kick it off. When we walk now, she pushes on her mosquito net with her feet. A few weeks ago, Hamilton noticed she had gained control of her thumb. Where she once use to hold his finger with only 4 fingers, she now wraps her thumb around to tighten her grip. Ever since he mentioned it, I have noticed it being more difficult to dress her because her thumbs get caught in her sleeves. It is a tad bit more difficult to parent now that she is on-the-go, but seeing her squirm around is worth it! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love that Belle is so inquisitive, talkative and active! She is really becoming quite engaging. In the blink of an eye, she'll probably be driving around and writing her own blog. In the meantime, I plan to keep counting my blessings and praying that I will be around to watch her grow! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-4862742947176240868?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/4862742947176240868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-much-fun.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/4862742947176240868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/4862742947176240868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/08/so-much-fun.html' title='So much fun'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SoMzu25G16I/AAAAAAAAAEY/lRYwCX2t1nQ/s72-c/IMGP2947.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-5734296724849395947</id><published>2009-07-27T19:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T20:33:30.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping mommy guessing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/Sm5wx_siVzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/bnRuTeSNpVc/s1600-h/DSC05299.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363348210458974002" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/Sm5wx_siVzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/bnRuTeSNpVc/s320/DSC05299.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just when you think you have someone figured out, they &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;surprise&lt;/span&gt; you. I probably know my daughter better than anyone, yet every day she reminds me that I still have a lot to learn about the inner workings of Miss Belle Wilson. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After church on Sunday, I smiled smugly to myself thinking I knew my 2 month old daughter like the back of my hand. I had fed her right before the service, so she happily explored the sanctuary during praise &amp;amp; worship time. At her first &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;squirm&lt;/span&gt;, I quickly shifted positions, and her muscles relaxed. I had the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pacifier&lt;/span&gt; in hand ready to "plug" her the second I noticed her lips start to twist into a frown. I could tell by the look in her eyes, I simply needed to bounce her a few times and she would drift to sleep and quietly allow me to enjoy the sermon. During the invitation, I took her to the nursing room to feed her before we repeated the same routine the next hour at Sunday school. I left church with the proud grin of a mother who had just had another successful outing with her baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later that day, however, Belle would show me who was boss. As &lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;began our bedtime ritual, which normally consists of reading a book, a warm bath, a massage, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;lullabies&lt;/span&gt;, a prayer and a final feeding, &lt;strong&gt;she&lt;/strong&gt; began to cry and cry and cry and cry some more. She was screaming so loudly, I was convinced a neighbor was going to accuse me of child neglect. After trying everything I could think of to comfort her, I just helplessly held my baby until it finally passed. I am still not sure what was wrong with her. She just quite suddenly stopped "squawking" (as Hamilton calls it). It was almost as if she had forgot why she was upset in the first place. The look she had on her face when she calmed down was the same look of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;satisfaction&lt;/span&gt; I had after leaving church earlier. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although I am getting better at predicting Belle's behavior, I realize I have to keep an open-mind because every once in a while, she is going to throw me a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;curve ball&lt;/span&gt;. Like the other day, I bent down for a second to turn on some music, and she flipped from her tummy to her back! Of course, I have yet to get her to do it again on command! I suppose I will have to wait until she decides she is ready. Oh well. I am glad my baby has a mind of her own. Predictable is boring! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-5734296724849395947?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/5734296724849395947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/07/keeping-mommy-guessing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/5734296724849395947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/5734296724849395947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/07/keeping-mommy-guessing.html' title='Keeping mommy guessing'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/Sm5wx_siVzI/AAAAAAAAAEI/bnRuTeSNpVc/s72-c/DSC05299.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-3186494131833493415</id><published>2009-07-21T21:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T20:34:57.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SmcVHM6u_gI/AAAAAAAAAD4/-jIR0trzv6s/s1600-h/6013_101023903243534_100000077754027_27400_2388522_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361277094878707202" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SmcVHM6u_gI/AAAAAAAAAD4/-jIR0trzv6s/s320/6013_101023903243534_100000077754027_27400_2388522_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"This is for your own good, honey." How many times have children heard that line? I realized this week, the expression has never really been for the child. It exists because the words bring &lt;em&gt;parents &lt;/em&gt;a small amount of comfort regarding the decisions they make on their child's behalf. As a new parent, I have already used the line to justify Belle's tears on numerous occasions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As recommended by the "experts", Belle has always had a daily dose of "tummy-time," even though it wasn't well-received at first. In the beginning, I watched my baby struggle to lift her little head from being buried in the blanket. Although her fussing made me cringe, I allowed it for while but closely monitored her efforts. I kept reminding her that her hard work would pay off. At 2 months old, Belle hardly makes a peep when placed on her stomach. In fact, she rather enjoys it and has decided it is a comfortable way to sleep! Her neck muscles are much stronger, and she is holding her head up really well. Her first exercise routine proved successful, now if my post-par tum body could just get on the band-wagon using the same logic!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In addition to regular exercise, Belle is also working on her sleep routine. For the past couple weeks, as she begins to get drowsy, I lay her down hoping to get her in the habit of falling asleep on her own. So far, she is doing exceptional. Once she learns to hold the pacifier in her mouth for longer periods of time, I think she will master putting herself to bed. Actually, I believe the sleep routine has been harder on me because I love holding her at night! Everyone knows how sweet it is to have a sleeping baby nestled sweetly against you, and with Hamilton away too, I miss the love! As hard as it is to walk away, I know teaching her independence is the best thing I can do for her and our family. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When it came time to schedule Belle's first post-hospital set of shots, I avoided making the appointment. I cowardly wanted to wait until Hamilton returned from the police academy to take her, but in the end, I decided to be a good mom and take her on time since I had some questions about her watery right eye. As I placed my newborn on the table for the nurse to inject her with the vaccines, I couldn't help but think about how innocent she looked, not knowing what was about to hit her. Suddenly, the needle symbolized not only the pain that was about to ensue for her, but all the pain my daughter will inevitably face growing up in this fallen world. The reminder, along with her pitiful cry on that table, brought tears to my cheeks as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it won't be the last time my heart breaks for Belle. I understand it is all part of a mother's role though, and I just pray for strength to guide her through all the difficult times in life. I realize I have it easy right now, God is easing me into the harder years. A mother can only pray that all the decisions she makes for her child will indeed turn out for the best. Thank goodness I am not alone though! You should've heard Hamilton as he pryed her eye open to apply the ointment the other day....He is dishing out his fair share of tough love too! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-3186494131833493415?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/3186494131833493415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/07/tough-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/3186494131833493415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/3186494131833493415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/07/tough-love.html' title='Tough Love'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SmcVHM6u_gI/AAAAAAAAAD4/-jIR0trzv6s/s72-c/6013_101023903243534_100000077754027_27400_2388522_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-8162390622308429878</id><published>2009-07-07T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T20:36:00.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a GIRL!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SlYf1wGomYI/AAAAAAAAADg/2QcoNjdNhuk/s1600-h/DSC04407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 241px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356503815110039938" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SlYf1wGomYI/AAAAAAAAADg/2QcoNjdNhuk/s320/DSC04407.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I found out I was pregnant, I was really indifferent regarding the sex of my baby; however, I may have leaned towards a "boy" simply because I knew Hamilton was hoping his firstborn would be a son. Now that my little girl has arrived, I am so excited she is a she! :) Not only does Hamilton adore her, I love Belle's namesake and am looking forward to all the fun us girls are going to have together! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It seems every man wants a son, but after holding a daugther, they quickly discover how special it is to have a "daddy's little girl" too. As I watched Hamilton select "girly" items for Belle's registry, I knew he was going to be just fine with having a girl. He always said the only reason he didn't want a girl was because he didn't want to ever have to shoot anyone. (It is true that from the moment she was born, he has been in full-protective mode.) I love that he enjoys being a father and wants to spend quality time with her. Seeing him cuddle with her just makes my heart smile. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since childhood, I hoped to have a daughter and name her after my late great-grandmother (Granny). When I was born, we had four generations of women on mom's side, and Granny marked the occasion by passing down her engagement ring to my mom. Sometime after Granny passed away, mom gave it to me, and I have since worn it with love. With Belle's arrival, we once again have four generations in our family, so Grandma followed the tradition by passing down Granny's wedding band to me, which I will later give to Belle. Every time I look at one of the rings, it reminds me of all the love a mother, grandmother and great-grandmother can provide a young girl. I hope Belle, which happens to mean "beauty," will also have beautiful memories of feeling loved and cherished and that she will pass the warmth down to many future generations. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Belle is only 7 weeks old, so I doubt she will recall these early memories, but we are already enjoying girl-time togther! Hamilton teases me that Belle is not a baby-doll, but I sure do love dressing my baby up! As many times as I change her and snap a picture, you would think she was a little model. I am not the only one enjoying another girl in the family though! Belle has already caught sunrays at every pool in Beaufort with Grandma and her cousin Sarah. She has also learned how to sale hunt at the Columbiana mall with her Grammie. As a female, Belle gets to watch what her daddy calls "chick flicks." She has seen her first classic-The Sound of Music, and she is preparing to watch another girly movie with her Aunt Pam today! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think everyone agrees little Belle is a keeper! Her big eyes and bright smile has already brought so much joy into our lives! I am looking forward to possibly having a son one day, but for now, I am just going to enjoy my little princess! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-8162390622308429878?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/8162390622308429878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-is-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8162390622308429878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8162390622308429878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/07/it-is-girl.html' title='It is a GIRL!!!'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SlYf1wGomYI/AAAAAAAAADg/2QcoNjdNhuk/s72-c/DSC04407.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-5957675175412244683</id><published>2009-07-02T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T20:36:33.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>4th at the Turtle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SlZJSEFtwqI/AAAAAAAAADw/H2TELT7wSaE/s1600-h/DSC03857.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 327px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356549381487968930" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SlZJSEFtwqI/AAAAAAAAADw/H2TELT7wSaE/s320/DSC03857.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SlZJRdbUTII/AAAAAAAAADo/6cLLTrWYuxQ/s1600-h/DSC04200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356549371109592194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SlZJRdbUTII/AAAAAAAAADo/6cLLTrWYuxQ/s320/DSC04200.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Belle was a big hit at the Wilson's annual 4th of July bash. She is the first baby the family has had to play with since Hamilton was young. Almost everyone took a turn holding her in between all the traditional "Turtle" festivities---feasting on wonderful food, shooting guns, playing games, boating, fireworks, lounging by the lake and catching up with family &amp;amp; friends. As always, we all had a wonderful time. Maybe a few years down the road, Hamilton's siblings and cousins will bring some kids for Belle to have fun on the lake with!!??!!!?!?! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-5957675175412244683?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/5957675175412244683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/07/4th-at-turtle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/5957675175412244683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/5957675175412244683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/07/4th-at-turtle.html' title='4th at the Turtle'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SlZJSEFtwqI/AAAAAAAAADw/H2TELT7wSaE/s72-c/DSC03857.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-1986467877283078631</id><published>2009-06-24T19:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T12:47:27.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't scare mommy, Belle!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuXLKwtO6I/AAAAAAAAACo/QpLOUJSCgUc/s1600-h/DSC03465.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353538800182967202" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuXLKwtO6I/AAAAAAAAACo/QpLOUJSCgUc/s320/DSC03465.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Belle and I are having growing pains, but I am the one hurting! Each day, she gains more strength in her little neck. I still cautiously support her head with my hand, but she fights to lift her head on her own daily. When she is having tummy time or I am holding her, I encourage her to practice, but lately, Miss Independent thinks she needs to practice in the car seat while we are driving! I look back in the mirror and see her bopping her head forward! She isn't crying, so I guess she is fine, but it doesn't look the least bit comfortable and really gives a rookie-mom quite a scare! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-1986467877283078631?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/1986467877283078631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/dont-scare-mommy-belle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/1986467877283078631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/1986467877283078631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/dont-scare-mommy-belle.html' title='Don&apos;t scare mommy, Belle!'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuXLKwtO6I/AAAAAAAAACo/QpLOUJSCgUc/s72-c/DSC03465.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-8832728983159405553</id><published>2009-06-24T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T20:37:22.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am still an analyst</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuhyX9GLeI/AAAAAAAAACw/IdQ-6Ix1nV8/s1600-h/DSC03222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353550468855770594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuhyX9GLeI/AAAAAAAAACw/IdQ-6Ix1nV8/s320/DSC03222.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other day, I officially resigned from my position as a computer analyst, but I have already learned that my analytical skills are going to be needed in the home too! Since 95% of problems are recurring, I learned to always run down the list of common solutions before I really start troubleshooting. So, when Belle cries, I quickly check her eyes to see if she is sleepy, her bottom to see if she is wet, or her mouth to see if she is hungry. If it isn't one of the big 3, then I have to put on my thinking cap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lately, she fusses if her mobile cuts off because she loves to watch it go round and round! Sometimes, she wants to change positions or just needs to expel some air. Other times the sun may be in her eyes or a stupid mosquito has bit her. She detests getting strapped in the car seat, but usually comes to terms with it once we get outside and the stroller or car starts moving. I must admit she has shed a tear once because her horrible mother &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accidentally&lt;/span&gt; stuck her with the pin while putting on her cloth diaper. Another time, I thought she might like to look at a picture, so I taped it to her mirror...only to come back to a crying baby who didn't like the taste of the ink she was licking off her slobbery hand! One time, I couldn't figure out what was wrong with her until I saw one of my long hairs tightly coiled around her wrist! Sometimes, Belle has just had enough off this old world and needs some "white noise." I have discovered the sound of running water normally calms her. Of course the egotistical side of me thinks being cradled in mommy's arms should remedy any situation, but I have already had to accept that sometimes my baby is happier to be left alone to play. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The key to being an analyst is tenacity. I know I must keep looking until I find the source the problem. Although I hope to limit the number of "issues" we have each day, I know she can't be raised in a bubble, so I expect enough to keep me on my toes! Today, we are dealing with a slightly stuffy nose. :( &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-8832728983159405553?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/8832728983159405553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-am-still-analyst.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8832728983159405553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8832728983159405553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-am-still-analyst.html' title='I am still an analyst'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuhyX9GLeI/AAAAAAAAACw/IdQ-6Ix1nV8/s72-c/DSC03222.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-3938761116553937364</id><published>2009-06-24T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T09:49:15.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Belle thinks she is bear</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuTdZV-IMI/AAAAAAAAACg/xU7ok7_kxiA/s1600-h/IMGP2523_edited-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353534715288494274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuTdZV-IMI/AAAAAAAAACg/xU7ok7_kxiA/s320/IMGP2523_edited-1.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bears may hibernate through the winter, but I fear my daughter has decided to sleep through the summer! Amidst the noisy crowd at Vacation Bible school last week, Belle just curled up in her sling and sleeped the morning away. I am convinced the sling makes her feel like she is back in my womb. She will literally sleep in the sling until &lt;strong&gt;I &lt;/strong&gt;am so exhausted I have to lay her down. Lately, she has enjoyed sleeping so much, she will even put herself to bed! Several times this week, I left my happy baby in her crib for a few moments and returned to find her asleep! Given that she seems to sleep a lot during the day, many people have questioned whether I get any sleep at night. So far, I haven't had any problems getting her to sleep all night minus two brief wake-ups to nurse. Possbily she is going through a growth spurt or maybe she just inherited her daddy's sleepyhead genes. Either way, Belle likes her ZZZs right now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-3938761116553937364?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/3938761116553937364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/belle-thinks-she-is-bear.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/3938761116553937364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/3938761116553937364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/belle-thinks-she-is-bear.html' title='Belle thinks she is bear'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SkuTdZV-IMI/AAAAAAAAACg/xU7ok7_kxiA/s72-c/IMGP2523_edited-1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-8017290430987743911</id><published>2009-06-10T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T12:49:24.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Belle's emerging personality</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SjqZ8nOtLwI/AAAAAAAAACQ/8rLMbjunqWE/s1600-h/DSC02021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348756774057750274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SjqZ8nOtLwI/AAAAAAAAACQ/8rLMbjunqWE/s320/DSC02021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;People often say all babies do is "eat, sleep &amp;amp; poop." While Belle does spend the bulk of the day doing one of those three things, she does them &lt;em&gt;her &lt;/em&gt;way, and I savor every opportunity to learn my daughter better. If you observe closely, it is amazing how much she accomplishes in the in-between moments too! Belle is already her own unique little person, and I love watching her personality emerge. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Belle enjoys making herself heard. She is certainly not the quietest sleeper in the world. In fact, I had to take her out of church last Sunday not because she was crying but because she was snorting like a little pig! Unless she is in a rare deep sleep, she squeals, grunts and groans the entire time her eyes are closed, especially if someone does &lt;em&gt;anything &lt;/em&gt;Miss Belle doesn't like. Hamilton and I often wonder what she is dreaming about when her nasally snore turns into a rapid little pant followed by a deep sigh. The other night when I peered into her bassinet to see what all the racket was about, I discovered she had found her thumb and was sucking and slobbering all over it! Belle's cry is loudest when it is time for her to be changed. She can't stand a wet diaper, and she often needs help going #2. As soon as she empties her little tummy though, she is ready to gobble down some more milk. Often, Belle drinks so fast she chokes herself at first. She is so noisy at times, it almost sounds like she is slurping! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although Belle's noises are funny, her expressions are truly priceless. I love to watch her eyes roll to the back of her head as she drifts off to sleep, then see her angelic face resting peacefully in slumber land. When Belle first wakes up and stretches, she tightens her little rosebud lips, raises her eyebrows and twists her cheeks back and forth. Although it is the best time to see a multiplicity of her expressions, it is definitely not her most flattering time! On the changing table, Belle is always very alert. She throws her arms either up or out and always gives me a startled stare. I chuckle every time I see Belle's eyes widen and her head bob around my chest as she tries to tell me she is ready to eat. You should have seen the puzzled look on her face when her daddy gave her a bottle last week, but she took it nevertheless! On our daily walks, Belle's eyes dart back and forth to explore the great outdoors. She is not afraid to scrunch up her face in the cutest scowl you will ever see if she disapproves of something, like the bright sun! Lately, she has mastered grasping things. Her face is one of determination as she holds tightly to one of her toys or mommy's long hair! I know Belle doesn't understand when I read to her yet, but you wouldn't know it by some of the intent looks she gives the books during story-time! According to conventional wisdom, babies don't really smile yet, but I often wonder every time I see Belle's overjoyed grin as she gazes at herself in the mirror! Belle has just started really looking at people in the eyes, except when we venture much farther than Grandma's house, she opts to keep her eyes sealed and shut out the world. I didn't think she was ever going to come back to the land of the living when she went on an outing downtown Beaufort with Grandma Wilson last week! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With each passing day, I notice Belle's newborn look fading, but no matter how fast she grows, she will forever be my sweet baby girl! Her list of "firsts" continue to grow, and her proud mother hopes to witness (and attempt to photograph) every one! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-8017290430987743911?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/8017290430987743911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/belles-emerging-personality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8017290430987743911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/8017290430987743911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/belles-emerging-personality.html' title='Belle&apos;s emerging personality'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SjqZ8nOtLwI/AAAAAAAAACQ/8rLMbjunqWE/s72-c/DSC02021.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-7582861586119024276</id><published>2009-06-02T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T12:27:40.266-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Belle's Homecoming</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;As we pulled into the driveway with Belle on Saturday morning, our dog Nina excitedly greeted us and affectionately licked her tiny toes. We tried to show Belle around the house, but she was anxious to get back to sleep! Thankfully, Hamilton didn't have to work until Monday evening, so we had ample time to settle in as a new family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Those first few days were priceless. Despite some sleep deprivation, it was a very peaceful, joyous time. Thanks to my mom for preparing dinners us and the refridgerator Hamilton's parents had stocked, we were able to spend the bulk of our time Belle-watching. We were fascinated by her every little movement or expression. We must've told each other a thousand times how "beautiful" she was. Several times that weekend, tears glistened my eyes just from looking at her or from seeing the way Hamilton was gazing at our precious daughter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;As rookie-parents, we have learned to adapt and have also had some laughs. First of all, I can't stand cold food; however, since the arrival of my little one, I have already suffered through several lukewarm meals! I figure, now that I am a mom, I just have to suck it up and deal with it. I have also exhibited some absent-minded behavior--I opened the kitchen drawer the other day to discover the bacon I had "put away" the previous day!!??! Hamilton has had to learn to divide his TLC between 3 needy women. Belle let her daddy bathe her for the first time at home, but she also decided to let him be the first she spit up on! Hamilton ran into the kitchen with her at an arms length for me to take her. He can handle dirty diapers, but he can't stomach throw-up. I am STILL working on the diaper routine. I think I am too quick to change her because  numerous times I &lt;em&gt;thought&lt;/em&gt; she had already finished her business, but the little rascal kept going either on the changing table or within seconds of putting on her fresh new diaper!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Belle didn't get out much her first week home, but she did go to church and to the doctor twice. She slept soundly through the church service, which I reminded her was a "no-no" when she got older! Although Belle's post-delivery follow-up appointment on Monday went well, we had to take her back to the peditrician by the end of the week because the drainage in her eye had worsened. We were suprised to learn that Belle had gained 12oz in 4 days! The ointment the doctor gave her seems to be helping her eye. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Belle is growing and doing new things everyday! Although she seems to be filling out, she can still hardly fit in any of her clothes still. Newborn outfits almost fit, but 0-3 month outfits still swallow her little frog legs. "Kickproof" socks aren't kickproof for Belle. She kicks off socks, her blankets and wiggles out of her positioner everyday. She is mesmerized by her reflection in her baby mirror and enjoys listening to her mobile. I sing to Belle as I rock or nurse her, and I am looking forward to the day she can sing along! She likes the outdoors, which is good because my plan is for Belle to be my walking buddy! We have already taken a few strolls around the block. At 10 days old, Belle lost her umblical stump. It happened rather dramatically, as I noticed it just as Hamilton had kissed us bye and was walking out the door for the Police Academy. Maybe it was just psychological, but I feel like that was the turning point where my newborn became a baby. She has looked bigger to me ever since. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Belle hasn't quite got on a solid schedule yet, but she normally eats/sleeps in 2-3 hour increments. She has had only a couple of fussy nights so far, but Hamilton has been here &amp;amp; simply let her sleep on his chest, a location she adores! I am probably a terrible mother because I laughed at her first little tantrum. It wasn't like she was in pain, she was simply aggravated at herself, and her face turned beet red &amp;amp; her little arm was just swatting the air over and over...It really tickled me, but of course I did everything I could to calm her down. It is unfathomable to me how such a sweet face could turn so sour! :) Her cries usually only last a few moments though, thank goodness! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Although Miss Belle has only been in our home slightly over a week, it feels like she has been a part of our lives forever. I know God specifically chooses the right family for each budding new life, and we are so thankful He placed Belle in ours. We feel richer already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-7582861586119024276?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/7582861586119024276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/belles-homecoming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/7582861586119024276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/7582861586119024276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/belles-homecoming.html' title='Belle&apos;s Homecoming'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505583993913922633.post-4571985128271725708</id><published>2009-06-02T09:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T12:25:09.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Belle's Debut Thursday, May 21st, 2009</title><content type='html'>Eighteen hours after being induced and experiencing 2-3 minute apart contractions, I had only dilated to a 3-4. Discouraged by the lack of progress and very uncomfortable, I requested the epidural around 12:00pm. It must've taken the edge off because everything starting moving fast afterwards. By 1pm my water had broke, by 2pm I was ready to push, and at 3:07pm, I heard Miss Belle's first cry. The sound was music to my ears, and moments later, my little princess was laying on my chest patiently waiting for her daddy to cut the cord that still kept her attached to me. Looking down at her tiny frame and at the proud look on Hamilton's face, I knew our lives would never be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Belle's grandparents met her, she nursed beautifully and left for the nursery with her daddy, who refused to leave his new baby alone with the nurses. Hamilton observed her checkup, first bath, and measurements. Belle was 6lbs 14.8 oz 19 1/2 inches. She had two unique marks, an "angel kiss" on her eyelid and her arm. Hamilton also noted that she "has her mother's toes," but most visitors thought she looked like her daddy. I am hoping she keeps his blue eyes at least!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is amazing how fast the waves of emotion fill a new parent. As I gazed at my new little girl, I suddenly understood all of my mother's "concerned" looks. Belle completley relied on us for her health &amp;amp; welfare, yet she looked so fragile, I wasn't even confident picking her up yet! As I expected, Hamilton proved to be a very attentive, protective father. He changed her first diaper, helped me nurse her, and lovingly held her the first night for me to get some much needed rest after an exhausting day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to admit Belle's actual birth day, which happend to be on her official "due date," was very surreal. The following day was less of a blur, and I really started enjoying her. As I watched Belle's little movements in the hospital bed, I recognized the patterns of activity I had felt while she was in my womb! She was still a little wiggle-worm. In fact, while in the hospital, she managed to squirm out of her ankle braclet twice and roll over on her side! &lt;/p&gt;Belle was showered with love from the start. All of her aunts and uncles came to celebrate her arrival, and she was also visited by other relatives, friends and co-workers. Hamilton and I were happy to show her off. We are still in awe of the precious gift of life God has entrusted to us. By the grace of God, Belle joined our family, and we will cherish every moment with her. Our prayer is that we will be good stewards of our time with her and that she will grow up to love the Lord.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4505583993913922633-4571985128271725708?l=habwilson.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/feeds/4571985128271725708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/belles-debut.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/4571985128271725708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4505583993913922633/posts/default/4571985128271725708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://habwilson.blogspot.com/2009/06/belles-debut.html' title='Belle&apos;s Debut Thursday, May 21st, 2009'/><author><name>Amy Wilson</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18114094666732102906</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x-c4P9b-szU/SymkSZgXx7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/e1QhLa59oF8/S220/DSC03664.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
