mabel says.

One of my favourite parts of being a mom is listening to and talking with Mabel. She is so funny and so sweet. Here are some of the best things she's said lately:

When singing the alphabet, instead of singing, "Now I know my ABCs," she sings, "Oh my, oh my, ABCs."

***

Mabel: "What does a penguin say?"
Me and Tony: ...
Mabel: "Wobble wobble!"

***

Mabel: "I want to be a boy."
Me: "Why?"
Mabel: "I want to be a girl."
Me: "Why?"
Mabel: "I don’t know."
Me: "You can be a boy or a girl. You can be whatever you want to be."
Mabel: "I want to be a Mabel!"
Me: "I think that’s great!"

***

She calls the restaurant McDonald's "Old McDonald's"—like the song.

***

When I was tucking her into bed, she told me, “I love me daddy and me mommy and me baby. I love me friends. And I love me!”

***

She calls her Mr. Potato Head toy "Sweet Potato." She'll say, "Where's Sweet Potato?" or "I want to sleep with Sweet Potato!"

***

I was just finishing cleaning the bathroom and she came in and asked me, “Whatchu doin’, Mama?”
I told her I was cleaning the bathroom; she asked, "What?"
I replied, "I scrubbed the sink, toilets, and bathtub."
She threw her arms around me in a hug and said, “Thank you, Mama!”

morning coffee.

I hear the doorknob rattle as I’m about to get in the shower. I hear your baba say, “Mabel! Bù! Mama xǐzǎo!” (He’s protective of my time alone and I appreciate that.) I hear you say something about coffee and then the doorknob rattles again. I walk over and open the door, see you standing there holding a little red cup. “Coffee, Mama! Put it here,” pointing to the spot where your baba leaves my coffee every morning.

I thank you and tell you I can’t wait to drink it. You smile and close the door.

Later, while I’m washing my hair, I hear you asking your baba, “Whatchu doin’?! No! I made Mama coffee!” He fibs and tells you he’s making coffee for himself.

I get out of the shower and find two cups of coffee waiting for me. How lucky I am to be loved by you both. Who knew morning coffee could convey so much?

so it begins.

On Sunday evening Mabel was playing with her toy kitchen, Clarke was on the floor nearby, and T & I were cooking and cleaning in the kitchen.

All of a sudden I heard Clarke crying his, "I'm hurt!" cry. (Yes, there are different kinds of cries and I recognize them all.) I spun around and saw Mabel shutting the door of her kitchen on Clarke's hand (dude can't crawl but he manages to get around quickly). I yelled, "Mabel! Stop!" and ran over to scoop Clarke up. As I inspected his fingers to make sure they weren't broken, I told Tony, "She just shut the door on his hand!"

Mabel was looking up at us and said, in a matter of fact (and maybe slightly proud) voice, "His head, too!"

Clarke had already stopped crying so Tony and I worked hard not to burst out laughing. That was when Tony said, "Shit! Look at his face!" Poor Clarke had a red line running down his cheek and a red spot on his head. He also had a diaper full of poop, so T took him to the bedroom to check him over and change his diaper.

I asked Mabel why she closed the door on him (thinking maybe it was an accident), and she said angrily, "He was playin' in my kitchen!"

She followed me into the bedroom and climbed up on the bed beside me while I nursed Clarke. I explained to her in a firm voice that it's not okay to hurt her brother, that she should tell him when she doesn't like what he's doing, and she can tell us too so we can help. Then I softened a little and explained that she's the big sister and he thinks she's cool and that her toys are cool and wants to play with her. I told her that it would be nice of her to play with him and share her toys sometimes, but she doesn't have to all the time.

I also told Clarke that if he wants to play with his sister's toys, he should ask first.*

Mabel leaned over and kissed Clarke, saying, "Sorry, Didi." Then she "read" us a story (looking at an old greeting card from a friend that she had been carrying around all afternoon): "My brother was playin' in me kitchen and I hurt him and said I'm sorry..."

I looked at T and smiled, "So it begins. There will be a lot more of this in our future—the good and the bad."

Notice that Mabel can play with Clarke's toys? ;) She often says, "He share with me!"

Do you have any tips for parenting siblings?

*I realize that Clarke can't talk yet and won't understand when Mabel tells him to stop, but he will soon enough. It's important to me that even while they are young, we are modelling the behaviour that we hope to encourage. I also want Mabel to feel respected and see that we are holding Clarke accountable for his actions, just like we do her. Of course, we also explain to her that he's still a baby and doesn't understand yet, but it's our job to teach him.

Elf!

I took Mabel to see Elf this past weekend. The excitement started a few weeks ago when we bought her ticket. She pointed at every poster she saw—"Elf!"—and would tell anyone who was around that she was going to see it. 

Yes, I did buy her these elf PJs specially for the show.

She insisted Dìdì wear his elf outfit too, even though he wasn't going with us. I was surprised and impressed that she remembered he had one; she'd only seen it once weeks ago. (It's probably a good thing she insisted Clarke wear it because I don't think it will fit him by Christmas.)

She insisted on bringing a toilet paper roll. *shrug emoji*

She was pumped that she was dressed like Buddy the Elf. (But didn't love the attention that she got from everyone because of it.) Before we went into the theatre, she was smiling so big and seemed about to burst from the energy. She said, "Mama, I'm so scared!" 

"I think you mean you're so excited?" 

"Yes, Mama! Excited!"

I thought Mabel would want to sit on my lap, but at first she sat in her own seat. I actually liked that better because then I could more easily watch her reactions. When the show began, her eyes were so wide! She bopped along to the music, swinging back and forth, "snapping" her fingers. When the lights changed colours, her eyes grew so big and her mouth formed an O—"Wow!"

I wasn't sure if she would be able to sit through the whole show but she did a great job! It was about an hour long and when it was almost done she asked to go home but I assured her she would see Santa and "Elf" one more time. She loved the parts with them in it, but the parts with "regular" people she found a little boring. 

We said hi to Auntie Jo after the show. (She's one of the StageCats directors.)

After the show we went out to the lobby so Mabel could see Santa and Buddy. She didn't want a photo with Santa, but she said hi. She worked up her courage to get a photo with Buddy though! She was happy to show her that she was dressed like her :) 

And she brought a candy cane home—her first!

I'm so excited to be making memories with my little girl. Especially Christmas memories. I think this is one of my favourite parts of parenthood.

(And I just realized that I didn't get any photos of me with Mabel. *face palm emoji*)

i'm forgetting.

Clarke was 12 days old here and Mabel was freshly 2 years old.

I said I would blog and I haven't but I want to, I do, I promise, but I've been busy. Busy holding my baby and reading books with my toddler and cuddling her whenever she will let me. Also, it feels so overwhelming. I am overwhelmed by the task of How to Document My Children's Lives—these fleeting moments that are so hard and so special. I don't want to forget any of it, but I am.

I'm forgetting what it's like to have a newborn flailing in my arms, their arms and legs all jerky and spastic.

I'm forgetting what a newborn sounds like—SO LOUD! Much louder than you'd think. Farts and burps that sound like a grown man's. Heavy breathing that stops and starts and is so nerve-wracking for a first-time mom (and sometimes a second-time mom, too).

I'm forgetting what "nip-lash" feels like, when the baby is so full and content and goes from happily, sleepily, hungrily sucking to pulling away from the nipple while still having it firmly in their mouth. With a twist of their neck and a resounding smack! when the nipple is released—"nip lash."

There's more I'm forgetting, I know there is, but as I sit here, I, well, I forget what I'm forgetting.

I'll remember it though, when the baby does something, like babbles up to me and blows spit bubbles, I'll think, I remember this! Your sister did this! It will all come back to me and I'll feel sad that I forgot what that early baby talk sounds like and I will promise myself that I will remember, I won't forget this time. And I'll think, I should write this down, take a video, burn it into my memory so I won't forget.

But inevitably, I will.

happy saturday!

Mabel goes back to school next week (half days until 1PM) and I'm having mixed feelings about it. (She started a Montessori nursery program at the school I teach at when she was 18 months.) On one hand I'm excited because I know she'll be happy to be back with her teachers and classmates, and it will let me get Clarke on a better morning routine. On the other hand, I'll miss hanging out with my little girl.

I've told Tony numerous times this week, She is just so fun to hang out with! 

That's probably what made me happiest this week—hanging out with Mabel. We went on an impromptu Starbucks date because she asked for a "mudfin" (muffin), played at an indoor playground, went on another coffee date where she stole my almond croissant (she also stole the words right out of my mouth when she told me, "Mabel's; I share with you" after taking said croissant), and a shopping date. 

Other things that made me happy this week: 

+ Auntie Jo (Melissa) came back! I don't know who's happier about that, me or Mabel. 

+ Mabel finding Toy Story pyjamas at GAP while we were shopping. She came running over holding them, "Toy Dory! Toy Dory!" I knew that no matter how much they cost, I'd buy them for her; luckily they were on sale. (She somehow became obsessed with Toy Story this summer and we've watched the first three movies many, many times—usually in parts, but she sat through all three numerous times one weekend when she was so sick and couldn't do anything else.)

+ Going out last night with Melissa. It was so fun and relaxing to drink beer and chat with my best friend on a patio.

+ IKEA trip this morning with Mabel and Melissa. So fun to shop with my girls.

+ Our sister-in-law sending us photos she took of the kids while she was visiting. It's so cool to see your kids through someone else's eyes.

What made you happy this week?

just the three of us.

This is Mabel's smile when someone tells her, "Smile!" Love it.

Yesterday Tony and I took Mabel out for ice cream. "Just the three of us, like the old days" is what I said to Tony. It was such a simple thing, but it felt so special. 

Right before we left, we were waiting for Tony to get home from work and I was sitting on the couch feeding Clarkie (who we left with T's sister-in-law who is here visiting). Mabel was sitting at her little table playing with playdough and I said, "Mabel, when baba gets home, guess what we're going to do."

She thought for a moment, got a little gleam in her eye, and whispered, "Ice cream"—something between a question and a statement, maybe a wish. 

When Tony came home, we put her in her stroller (which is now sometimes hers and sometimes Clarkie's, and also the cause of the first jealousy-induced tantrum Mabel threw after Clarkie came home because how dare I put him in "MABEL'S!!!" stroller?!) and set off.

We arrived at Solana and asked Mabel if she wanted to eat ice cream with a spoon or in a cone. She nodded her head, "Done." (Pronounced like "dome" but with an N because she can't pronounce C's yet, so Clarkie is "Darkie" and it's really cute.)

Tony got in line to order and Mabel and I scoped out a bench because it was waaaaay too hot to sit outside and DQ got rid of their seating with their last renovation (Why, DQ? Why?). Immediately Mabel was concerned, and started craning her neck, looking for Baba. I assured her that Baba was bringing her ice cream soon and she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me so tightly and I want that memory seared into my brain because, this is what being a mom feels like.

Then Tony arrived with the ice cream and I removed the little paper that is always wrapped around the cone because Mabel refuses to eat her ice cream with "garbage." It's just been the last few ice cream outings that Mabel's been able to eat a whole ice cream by herself and she was not happy with Tony when he took the cone from her and licked a few drips. 

I took out my phone and said, "Smile!" and the above photo is the result and even though I'm the only one without a fake smile, I love it because our happiness is real—all three of us.

back to work.

Mabel at 4 months old. Photo: Kandise Brown

Yesterday was my first day back at work since Mabel was born and I have so many feelings and thoughts about it. But let me back up a bit first and tell you how lucky I am.

I work at a Canadian school in Beijing and as part of my contract, they follow Canada's maternity leave policy, so I am entitled to a year off. Mabel was born last year with 3 weeks of school left, and on my intended return date this year, there would also be 3 weeks left. Instead of working those 3 weeks full time, my principal proposed that I work 1 day/week for the rest of the school year beginning yesterday. Yes, it means leaving Mabel 3 months earlier, but only 1 day a week! And I can come home at lunch to nurse her (our apartment is on the school campus)! And I was home by 3:45! Lucky!

***

I still cried 4x yesterday though.

The first was as I was walking to school and a colleague asked how I was and I said, "I'm okay" and then started to cry. I tried not to, but it couldn't be helped. Thankfully that person handled the potentially awkward walk to school with grace and made me feel better about my crying.

Then I cried when the teacher I was supplying for asked how I was.

I don't remember the third time I cried, but I know it happened.

And then I cried when I got home from work at the end of the day and saw Mabel, who smiled so big and threw her arms up in the air when I walked in the door, as if to say, "Yay! You're back!"

***

When T and I got home yesterday for lunch (we take the same lunch break), Mabel was excited to see me but it was clear that it was only for my boobs and the milk they contain. When she was done eating, she only had eyes for her baba, just like every other day when he comes home for lunch. I was like, "Hey kid, I was gone all morning, too! What am I, chopped liver?"

It hurt a bit that she didn't seem to care, but I was also glad about it. Obviously our time apart isn't bothering her too much. And I guess that's been her lunchtime routine almost every day from the time she was two weeks old: Baba comes home! Yay!

***

I forgot how exhausting teaching can be. I forgot how fun it can be. I forgot how much I love "my kiddos"—even when they're students I just met for the first time.

I didn't know how exhausting teaching can be when you're still waking up through the night with a baby. I didn't know how hard it can be to feed your baby and pump and feed yourself on a lunch break. I didn't know how I'd feel leaving my baby to teach other people's babies.

***

I applaud—standing ovation level applaud!—all of you moms who have had or will have to return to work when your baby is a few weeks or a few months old. I know if I had to I would, because moms specialize in doing what needs to be done, but man, it would be HARD (understatement).

words for the weekend.

dear mabel / 2 months.

Dear Mabel Xiaoxuan,

That's what I often call you, your first and middle names—something that most moms use when they're angry. I guess when you get older and I get angry with you, I'll have to think of something else. Or I can stick with Mabel Xiaoxuan but it will be more like MABEL XIAOXUAN!

But for now, it's just Mabel Xiaoxuan, real sweet-like because baby girl, you are so sweet. You'll get tired of hearing this, but your Baba and I love you so much and we tell you and each other that all the time.

Girl, you are growing! Oh, how you are growing. Look at those chins! You've gained almost 3lbs since your 1 month checkup! Yay!

After that checkup, you were finally big enough for the Ergo, and your baba loves carrying you around in it. We go for walks whenever the AQI is below 100 (sorry about the air, baby) and that's your usual mode of transportation. You hang on so tight in the beginning but after awhile you relax and fall asleep. It's the cutest thing.

Another thing you're finally big enough for are the velcro swaddles your grandma sent us. You sleep so much better in those little straight jackets! You hate when we put you in it—it takes both me and your baba to wrestle you in—but as soon as it's fastened, you calm right down. And you're sleeping in your crib now! You have been since you were about 5 or 6 weeks old—no more stroller sleeps for you!

I was getting worried (I'm always worried about something) that you weren't making enough eye contact (really, what do I know; your doctor told us last week that can take up to 3 months) or smiling yet. On July 17th I was googling "when do babies smile" for probably the 5th time and then I realized I was being ridiculous. I looked at you laying beside me on the couch and I said, "Mabel, I am done looking things up. You will smile at me when you're ready. You will do everything when you're ready. I'm sorry, babe." And I put my phone down.

Mabel, I am not kidding; 5 minutes later you were staring right at me! And then you smiled! I started to cry (happy tears!) and messaged your baba, "She smiled! Mabel smiled! A real smile! Not gas or sleeping or milk! A REAL SMILE!" You smiled at me again the next day when I said, "Wow! What a big burp!" (Your burps and farts and sneezes sound like an adult's, not even kidding. When your baba's holding you and I hear one of the above, I always ask him which of you it was because I'm never sure.) And then you smiled at me again a few days later when you pooped and I said, "You're a stinky girl!" (Am I embarrassing you again? Sorry.)

Your baba spent the next week doing everything he could think of to get you to smile for him—silly voices, singing, tickling, bouncing, asking you to smile for baba (and I know that this is so not the same, but I can't help but think, here it starts, a lifetime of men telling you to smile). And on our 2nd anniversary, right when your baba and I were in the middle of a fight and he was holding you, he said, "She just smiled. She was looking right at me! She just smiled at me!" And he almost cried, too. We love you so much.

So far I wouldn't say you're a daddy's girl, but you definitely love him. The other night after your bath, he walked into the room and you turned your head and stared right at him the whole time I was putting your diaper on.

And another change is that you don't fall right asleep after I feed you in the evening any more. That was our routine: bath, swaddle, eat, sleep. Now it's: bath, swaddle, eat, baba rocks you, sleep. Most of the time you fall asleep quickly, but not always. You still wake up 1-2 times every night to eat, but instead of staying up for an hour, you're usually only up for 15-30 minutes.

You love baths now. Your baba and I bath you together and you stare at us or look around, so content to be in the water. If you're fussing or crying, you calm down as soon as you hear water running or we put you in the bath. One trick we learned that I think has helped is that we put one wet washcloth over your body to keep you warm while I wash you with another one.

Other things of note:
+ You met your aunt and your cousin—Xiaoxuan, your namesake. They came to visit for a week and held you as much as possible. Xiaoxuan uses her baba's phone all the time to message us asking for photos and to find out what we're doing.
+ Your arm movements are much more controlled now. But you still scratch yourself once in awhile.
+ You got your first diaper rash, and that made us sad, but didn't seem to bother you.
+ When you were 6 weeks old, your baba fed you your first bottle. Now he feeds you at least one a week while I take a break—I take a long bath or go get my nails done. Mabel, it really does make me a better mom for you; when I get back, even though it's only been 3 hours, I swear I love you even more.
+ You've grown out of your newborn clothes and are wearing some of the smaller 0-3 months onesies we have. (And you'll be happy to hear, your baba and I are MUCH better at putting onesies on you! ;)

We love you, Mabel Xiaoxuan.

xoxo,
Mama

P.S. Dear Mabel / 1 month.

being a mom is hard.

It's hard. Being a mom is hard. I said that to a friend recently and followed it up with, I haven't said that to anyone else.*

The reason I hadn't said it to anyone is because I didn't want to sound naive. I knew it would be hard but you don't know how hard until you're in it. I mean, I believed moms when they said they didn't have time to shower some days but at the same time, I was like, Really? You don't even have 10 minutes? I just didn't understand. I have 10 minutes. I have more than 10 minutes. But I don't know when those more than 10 minutes will be. Mabel might start crying while I'm mid-shampoo and yah, it's fine for babies to cry, it's not going to hurt her, but those cries will turn into sobs and then wails and I don't want her to feel abandoned and I just want to enjoy my shower for god's sake, can't I live my life?!

I've said that a few times to Mabel, or a variation of it. Let me live my life, Mabel. And I'm joking, mostly, because 1) she can't understand and 2) this is my life now. And I wouldn't change it. But it's still hard.

And that's only one thing that's hard. A lot of other things are hard too: Exclusively breast feeding (even after you know what you're doing; I feel like a milk machine, or a cow, or a restaurant that's open 24/7 to exclusively serve one special customer). Waking up several times in the middle of the night. Swaddling. The near-constant spit up and diaper changes. Worrying about a blocked tear duct, a rash, a swollen lymph node, a lip tie. I've said f*ck! more often than I'd care to admit, enough times that I looked at Tony the other day and said, I hope that's not her first word.

I have a confession: While we were still in the hospital with Mabel, during the haze of breastfeeding and pumping and phototherapy and crying, in a moment of feeling overwhelmed and desperate, I turned to Tony and sobbed, I don't want to be a mooooom. I regretted it almost immediately, but it wasn't until a little while later, as I was looking at Mabel under the blue light that I turned to Tony again—sobbing, of course—and said, I didn't mean it. I love her. I don't want anything to happen to her. I want to be her mom. And then I bent over Mabel, I want to be your mom, baby. I want to be your mom, Mabel.

A few weeks later, as I was complaining slash looking for reassurance from my Nan, she told me I'll miss Mabel being this little, spit up and all, and I started to cry because even now, while I'm in the midst of it, I know she's right.

*During this same FaceTime conversation, I interrupted my friend to show her Mabel because, Look at her, she's her own person. She's amazing. I'm so lucky I get to be her mom.

dear mabel / 1 month.

Dear Mabel,

I hesitate to write to you, for two reasons.

First of all, and perhaps most important, is that I don't think I can adequately express my feelings for you—the depth and width of them. I'm not sure I've ever felt this anxious, overwhelmed, or tired before. (As soon as I wrote that, I thought, 'I've definitely felt this anxious, overwhelmed, and tired—life can be hard.) But I know for sure I've never felt this much love or this in awe of a person before. (Another disclaimer: I have felt this much love for your dad, but like my mom used to say to me, it's a different kind of love; I mean, we made you. And yes, I realize that depending on how old you are when you're reading this, you might be gagging right now.) This all sounds so cliché, but it's true. Your dad and I take turns looking at each other numerous times each day, saying, "I love her so much." And sometimes I have tears in my eyes when I say it, because Mabel, we really do love you so much.

Reason number two: I'm already looking ahead to the future, to when you have a sibling. I'm already asking myself, 'Will I have time to write letters to kiddo number two?' I don't want them to feel shafted. I'm sure they will, but I don't want them to. (If you're reading this, kiddo number two—or three, or four—you can be sure that I love you just as much, even if I didn't write you any letters, or take as many photos.)

(Another side note, to you, Mabel, and to any future kids: Your dad and I have joked but also meant it that Mabel is getting a crappy draw too because she's our first, so we're gonna make a lot of mistakes with her that we hopefully won't make with the rest of you. I mean, you should have seen us trying to get a onesie over her head for the first time. "She still has soft spots!" I wailed, almost in tears.)

Despite the reasons above, here I am, writing to you. I can't promise it will be every month, but I'm gonna try.

You're one month old! And oh man, have you grown! I knew you were growing of course, but I see you, lift you, carry you every day, so how much you were growing wasn't as obvious to me. And then we took your one month photo and compared it to your one week photo... wow.

You went from just under 5lbs (2.25kg) at birth—4.5lbs (2.035kg) really, if you count the weight loss after birth—to just under 7lbs (3.1kg) now. You're also 5.5cm taller than you were at birth. Yay, Mabel! (And yay, Mommy; I think I deserve some of the credit.)

One of the first hurdles most moms and babies have to overcome is learning how to breastfeed. And babe, we're lucky, or a good team, or both, because so far, so good. It was a struggle at first, a steep learning curve, and I can't even tell you how many people saw and touched my boobs in the hospital, but we figured it out. You eat like a champ and my nipples only hurt some of the time. We're still practicing different positions, but our current fave—the football hold—is working well for us. High five! (Again, depending on what age you are, you're probably so embarrassed right now.)

Speaking of eating, you turned into a spit-up machine around two weeks old. Your dad and I sometimes get panicky about it: "It's so much! The couch! It's so messy! Did she spit up everything I just fed her? What if she doesn't gain weight?" (Okay, so maybe it's just me who gets panicky. Your dad is calm, although he does worry about you gaining weight. When you spit up on him he just tells you, "It's okay, I love you.") From my googling, I've learned that you're what doctors call a "happy spitter." It doesn't bother you at all.

But! Speaking of your dad being calm, let the record show that he has his moments, too. He hates hearing you cry. I mean, I do, too, but it's normal; babies cry. When you cry, he gives me this look, like, 'Will you get over here now and feed her? She's crying, she needs you, she's our baby, help her!' (Also, when I was pregnant with you, he was constantly worried I was gonna squish you when I slept on my side.)

I just realized I said "speaking of" twice, so let's just continue with that. Speaking of crying, Mabel, sometimes when you're sleeping, you start crying just a little bit, and you whimper, and while I know you're okay and that it's probably just a bad dream or something, it breaks my heart. The same thing happens when you wake up from your naps. You cry because waking up is hard, or you're hungry, or you don't feel warm and cozy anymore, and it kills me. Just like I'm sure it's going to when you cry in the future, about your first skinned knee, your first breakup. But then, just like now, I'll tell you, "I'm here, baby. I'm here for you, Mabel."

The first question almost everyone asks me is, "Is she a good baby?" I don't have any other babies to compare you to, but I think you're a good baby. Aside from when you're waking up, you only cry when you have gas or are hungry and we don't get to you fast enough. (Plus, I think all babies are good babies.)

We gave you a soother for the first time when you were three weeks old. I wouldn't say you love it—you definitely prefer my boob—but it comforts you and lets me finish showering or pour a much-needed cup of coffee so it's win-win for both of us. And I know this sounds so parental, but your dad and I think you are so smart because you hold it in your mouth by yourself! Or, you try to at least. You still haven't mastered control of your arms so sometimes you end up pulling the ring instead of pushing and it pops out and then we hear your little heartbreaking cry. But Mabel, you are a problem solver. You grab the ring with one hand and then push on the side of the soother with your other hand. This doesn't always work either, but you try.

Oh! Another thing I want to remember. When you wake up, or you finish eating, you stretch. I mean, you s t r e t c h. Your arms go way up high, and then way to the side, and your head turns one way and then the other, and you make little baby dinosaur noises, just like I teased your dad about when we started dating. Your mouth even stretches! You make these facial expressions; oh man, they kill me. I wish I could capture them in words, but I'm just not that good of a writer. I'll try to explain one: Sometimes when you look at us, you form a perfect tiny O with your mouth and it's like you're saying, "Oooo" but you don't actually make any noise.

When you open your eyes wide, wow. Sometimes they look dark blue, other times, grey, and still other times, brown. We'll see. But every time we see your eyes, your dad and I say, "She's beautiful." I still don't know who you look like. Your dad says you have my double chin (sorry about that; we call it the Pottle chin; blame your grandmother). All of the Chinese staff at the hospital said you look like me. One nurse said, "Hi, little foreign lady" when she came in to check on you. But everyone who knows your dad says you look like him. I hope you do, Mabel, because your dad is good looking. (Am I embarrassing you again?)

You like to be carried in your wrap with one of us, and almost always fall asleep. Instead of laying your head against our chest the whole time though, you often throw your head back, leaving us to support it (so much for hands-free) because you like to look around. The first time we went for a walk with you in the wrap there was a breeze; you threw your head back and I swear, you loved every minute that you felt the air on your face.

A few more things I want to remember:

+ Your dad and I are slowly mastering the art of bathing you. After one "real" bath that ended with you and I in tears, we stuck to sponge bathing you, but the night before you turned one month old, we tried a real bath again and it was a success. (This was also the night that you peed on your dad. And then peed again as soon as we put you in your little bathtub. Don't worry, I made your dad refill it with new water.)

+ You don't like sleeping in your crib, but we don't have a bassinet for you, so for the last couple of weeks, you've been sleeping in your stroller by our bed. You usually have one 3-hour stretch at night, and then if we're lucky, a 2-hour stretch, followed by tiny stretches of an hour or less. The first couple of weeks, this killed me and your dad. A great team during the day, we would turn against each other at night. Ooh boy. But we quickly adjusted and Team Zhang is strong again. We put you to bed together (I'm in charge of swaddling you and he's in charge of getting the room ready). When you wake up, he changes your diaper if needed, and I feed you. He always makes sure to give my leg or arm a squeeze, says, "I appreciate you" or "You're a good mom" before he drifts off to sleep again.

+ You don't like being swaddled, but we've discovered it's the key to getting you to sleep for longer stretches of time.

+ You're still wearing newborn clothes and diapers. We have to roll up your sleeves and fold down the front part of the diaper, but you're slowly but surely growing into them.

+ You have a little dimple on your left cheek; I hope it doesn't disappear as you grow older, but if it does, know that I kissed it many times.

+ Your dad went back to work when you were two weeks old. He WeChats me a few times through the day asking, "How are you and Mabel doing?" He comes home for lunch every day and usually comes home a little bit early at the end of the day. He can't wait to hold you and always asks, "Want me to take her?" as soon as he walks through the door.

+ In the middle of our first night at home, your dad said, "I need coffee." And he went out the next day and bought a box of single servings of instant coffee. He's been drinking coffee almost every day since.

+ Your dad is the diaper changing master. He's also the master of getting you to fart. (This shouldn't embarrass you. Gassy babies are sad for everyone involved.) Mabel, I want you to know that your dad has really impressed me. Neither one of us had much experience with babies before you were born, but he really knew nothing. He still doesn't know a lot, but he knows you. He carries you around and marches with you, counting steps in Chinese, and he rocks you, and shows you what's happening outside our windows. We are lucky to have him, Mabel.

Baby girl, this letter was all over the place, kind of like my feelings this past month, and I can't promise the rest won't be either. But the point is that I don't want to forget any of these things and I want you to know how loved you are.

You are so loved.

xoxo,
Mama

this made me...

cry, feel grateful that Mabel is my daughter, and feel grateful for Kate, who shared this song with me when Mabel was born.

a new normal.

I guess I'm writing this blog post out of order. It probably should be 1) a birth announcement! 2) Mabel's birth story and then 3) this post. Oh well. I haven't blogged regularly for months so who am I to follow "rules" now.

Mabel is almost 3 weeks old and Tony and I are adjusting to our new normal. (Which, from what I'm told, we will continuously be doing because apparently babies change a lot ;)

As part of my contract with my school, and following Canada's guidelines, I have a year off for maternity leave. (!!!) And following Chinese law, Tony had 2 weeks off.

He went back to work yesterday and so far (ha! 2 days in!), so good. We miss him, sure, but I think I can say for certain that he misses Mabel more. He's messaged me a few times each day asking how Mabel and I are doing and when I reply we're good, I usually try to send a photo or video, to which he replies with heart eyes emojis.* I love seeing this guy be a dad. (Also, we're lucky; we live right beside the school so T gets to come home for lunch and if we need him, he could pop over pretty much anytime.)

I'm not setting high expectations for myself, something I need to continuously remind myself of, which I think will probably be key to not feeling overwhelmed or like I'm a lazy butthead. Yesterday I did 2 loads of laundry (almost—Tony hung them to dry and they're still hanging on the drying racks as I type this), showered (but did not do my hair or make-up and I got dressed in PJs), responded to a few emails, and drank almost an entire cup of coffee. Today, I responded to an email, filled out a form for work, and am drinking my first cup of coffee at 3:40PM.**

When people (mostly Chinese, but a lot of "foreigners" too) find out that I'll be home with Mabel by myself for the year, they gasp and look shocked. Some ask, in disbelief and/or with concern, "You're going to do it all by yourself?"and some come right out and tell me, "You can't! It's impossible!" To the Chinese people, I assure them that it's fairly common of us "Western" moms to stay home alone. And to my fellow foreigners, I assure them that we'll get help when and if we need it.***

I realize I'm just rambling here, but I hope you don't mind because I really would like to get back to blogging regularly, and until I get back into the habit of writing and Mabel (and therefore we) develop more regular sleep patterns, I have a feeling my posts will all be at least somewhat ramble-y. It's just part of my new normal.

Other things that are normal now:

A drying rack almost always up and filled with baby clothes and blankets.

A tube of nipple cream on the coffee table.

A "boppy" pillow on the couch.

Wearing only "nursing-friendly" clothes.

Wearing breast pads 24/7. (Leaking is real, my friends).

A baby rocker in the middle of the living room.

Small piles of clutter everywhere.

Continuously making trips to the garbage can in the stairwell with a dirty diaper.

Getting used to doing things one-handed.

T and I taking turns eating meals.

Eating lukewarm or cold food.

Responding to invitations with, "It depends on the baby." (Also, "It depends on the air quality.")

Taking lots of photos.

Keeping count of wet and dirty diapers.

Lowering my expectations and need for "perfection."

*I received one of these check-in messages while writing this post. Insert my own heart-eye emoji here, because he is the best dad and husband. 

**Of course, this is all in addition to breastfeeding, changing diapers, cleaning spit-up, and cuddling.  

***We do have someone who comes to clean our apartment and do laundry once a week. We've had this in place for years though, and will continue to, until we need to hire someone full-time to look after Mabel when I go back to work.