And We Have a Crawler!

He did it! After numerous attempts to move those little legs, little Jack is on the move. Payton and I were little cheerleaders this morning as he made the long journey from the living room into the dining room. It's great for her to share those moments, hopefully she will remember that kind of stuff. It seems as though it's as exciting for her as it is for me. My little man, my last little baby is growing up and is one the move!

We were watching videos of Payton when she was about 19 months, the same age as Emery is now. We knew there was a difference. How could there not be, my little Emery made her debut into this world months before she was supposed to and big sister certainly did not. Payton was singing the ABC's, doing "Head and Shoulders Knees and Toes" and showing off many other talents.

It's taboo to compare, and I'm not truly comparing, but they are at completely different cognitive levels for the same age. As I say that, my little Emery is smart. When I say "little", I mean little. The girl is still wearing 12 months (and can even wear 9 months) at 19 months. Doctor assures me all is well, but a mom can't help but worry a bit.

Small or not, she packs a punch! She's adding to her vocabulary weekly and while she can't put two words together, she has words. Each step and each accomplishment I feel is a small victory to us. She waddles around the house, full of life and laughter. She is in complete and total love with Payton. There is nothing better than a big sister in her book.

Right now, she's carrying around her baby-dolls. Her dolls HAVE to be without their clothes, not sure why - but the girl loves a naked baby! She loves them, 'feeds' them and rocks them. She's independent with a dependency on kisses, hugs and tickles. Like Payton, she's particular. She likes certain toys in a row, or separated just so. But at the same time, she's partial to dumping a whole basket of toys out on the floor. I think she would roll around on them as well if it didn't hurt.

She's taken a liking to sleeping on the floor. My poor little baby. We are trying to help her to continue her great sleeping pattern; going to to sleep by herself. She's not a fan anymore. I know it's probably age, but she wants mommy or daddy there the entire time. So we reluctantly let her cry. Never for more than about 5 minutes or so, but she doesn't last that long. She thinks she's 'defying' us by refusing to sleep in her bed, so she sleeps on the floor, next to the door until we put her back in bed asleep. Kind of makes my heart break!

I don't talk about Emery a lot. I do more NOW, but I didn't before. She was my first true frightening experience. When she was born, she was taken from me via c-section. As they wheeled her by they let me see her as I was lying on the table. They brought the isolette by and I couldn't find her. Then I saw her little face buried amidst the blankets. I was struck with the severity of the situation immediately. I could hear the echo of my heart racing on the monitor, a lump formed in my throat and tears were pouring down the sides of my face. It was a silent cry that twisted my insides apart. All my energy and emotions were with her so I didn't have the ability to make a sound.

Before something happens that could be dangerous, you never truly 'get it'. It was when I saw her and heard her that I knew things were bad. Things were going to be scary and my little girl may not live to tell her story. But, by the grace of God my tiny little girl took her uphill battle like a walk in the park. She completed her NICU stay 'by the book'. Seven weeks and one day later, she came home.

I had distanced myself from her, or distanced my heart I should say. I didn't want to feel loss if there was to be a loss. I didn't want to feel any of it. I wasn't even able to feel her against my skin until 6 days after she was born.

But just the way she sailed through her time in the NICU, she has sailed through life and all the changes that have been inflicted upon her. New homes, new baby, sick mommy.

My kids are strong, my kids are wonderful. They each have their own special stories and have each already overcome so much. And, they're kinda cute too. :)