Genevieve at Twelve Months (A little late)

I put off the 12-month post I wanted to write for Genevieve for so long that it's practically a 14-month post by now. This is because the thought is overwhelming -- I want to think of every little thing to write down so I can come back and read this years from now and be transported back. Oh yes, that is what she was like! 

On top of that, I ... well ... I've been feeling a bit guilty because in order to paint an accurate picture I would need to include some not-so-nice things about this little girl of mine. Wouldn't it be better to write one of those "Dear Daughter" letters filled with a list of all the magical things about her? Sure, I suppose, but ... why bother if I have to leave a bunch of stuff out, right?

Sigh. Here we go.

Genevieve is bright and amazing and beautiful and hilarious and sweet and shockingly brilliant. Here's the thing: When she's wonderful, she's the most charming child on the entire planet. Her smile! Her laugh! Her sweet little hugs and kisses and pats on the back! A ray of friggin' sunshine, I tell you. An angel right here on earth.

But when she's not -- she's, how shall I put it? The EXACT opposite. When she is not being the best baby on the planet, she is kicking and screaming and wailing and gnashing her teeth and stomping her feet and shaking her finger at you while she yells in jibberish. On a good day it is exhausting. On a bad day it is shocking and overwhelming.  

The best way I can describe it is that she is a two-year-old trapped in a one-year-old's body. Her temper tantrums rival any Josephine has ever had, but seem so much worse because she is also desperate to speak but has no words to explain herself, and the frustration is so evident it's painful. 

This is all coming right on the heels of an epic mama-only phase. For a few months before her first birthday, Genevieve could ONLY be in my arms. It was so bad that if I managed to sneak away long enough for her to get distracted and playing happily, if she would catch sight of me, she would break down into a complete mess. Tears, snot, the whole shebang. It was a very difficult time, because even if she was crying at the sight of me because she wanted me to be holding her, she was still CRYING AT THE SIGHT OF ME. If you happened to witness a baby begin sobbing at the sight of her mother, you would be at least a little confused, wouldn't you? 

Anyway, she got better, was happy as a clam for a while, and now she's stuck trying desperately to communicate needs she has no words for and she literally gets to the point where she's banging her head on the highchair tray. It is devastating. 

But, like I said, when she is happy, she is so very happy. She loves to give hugs and kisses, she loves her sister, her dog, books, food, and her whole family. She nuzzles my face and neck, murmuring "Mama mama mama" while kissing me. She runs to the door shouting "DADA DADA DADA!!!" when Jeremy gets home from work. She runs to Josephine when she cries and rubs her back and murmurs quietly.

She is also smart as a whip. You only have to show her something once and she can master it. I love watching her experiment and learn new things and get that curious look on her face when she is so focused.

Her fine motor skills are insane. She might only have a few words at this point (mama, dada, hiya, cheese, yay, and G), but she can pick up a single grain of rice and put it into a tiny hole with the steady hand of a surgeon. Her gross motor skills are great as well. She's been walking since ten months and can run and dance and go up stairs with alternating feet. She's become quite the wild child, like her sister was from day one. She now loves to dive and jump and throw herself from high places. 

For the time being she only has her top four teeth and her bottom four teeth. Her stupid one-year molars have been swelling up, coming to the surface, even breaking through the gums and then the next day they're gone, and it happens over and over and over. Josephine's were like this too, and took a good six months, so technically I was prepared for this, but I am NOT. This teething thing is a nightmare. She will sit and sob and chew her fingers and I feel that little corner of bone poke through and get all excited and then the next day it's gone and I know we have to start all over. This cannot be normal, can it?

Oh, Genevieve. What else can I tell you about her? She makes a cheese face for the camera. She's obsessed with the bathroom (grossssss). She rubs her hands together as soon as she sees me pump some hand sanitizer on my own hands. She LOVES the songs and games at playgroup and story hour. She even knows the movements to many songs, which blows my mind. She claps and says "Yay, G!" to celebrate herself. She brings me books and sits in my lap and laughs and laughs and laughs as I read them to her. She takes baby gates as a personal challenge. Her new favorite activity while I make dinner is to take every condiment out of the door of the fridge, put them in the bottom drawer, then back in the door, then back in the drawer, over and over, one condiment at a time. She does this thing where she lowers her chin and looks up at you from under her eyelashes. She ROLLS HER EYES AT YOU. We call her Baby G, Little G, GiGi, Geeg, and Skunk (because that's how big of a stinker she is).

She's beautiful. She's wonderful. She's amazing. She's turning into a little person. We love our little one-year-old.