Baby Sign Language: It Worked For Us!

Time to eat, Mom!

When you're a first-time mom, you come across a lot of must-tries that turn out to be disasters, a load of pishposh, or simply just a waste of time. Baby sign language is not one of those. Baby sign language, you say? Sounds like voodoo. But, for us, it worked! We are so glad we read about it, tried it, and kept at it! I have a lot of fond memories of Ella signing (I shared one in a previous post) and sometimes, when she nurses, she'll still sign "I love you" and we'll touch hands (sort of an "I love you"-five), our little ritual and secret language. I look forward to the memories I'll make with Jacob. He'll be six months old next week and we'll begin signing with him soon (although I've already begun signing, "I love you," out of habit. I wonder what his first word will be. 

(Click on for 5 reasons we love Baby Sign Language and 5 quick tips for getting started, after the jump)

Surviving Savoring the Sick Days

We will see many more sunsets, but this one, never again.

I was going to write a sick day survival guide. Lately, it seems like we have them so often around here, it was time to reflect and see if we could at least gain some wisdom from these crazy fever-filled, Tempra-sticky, sneezy-snotty, restless days and sleepless nights. Wouldn't you like to know how to get your kid to swallow that too-sweet orange medicine, how to keep her busy without (okay, with less) screen time, how to make a tired toddler less whiny, how to just get through the day. But a funny thing happened while I was composing that other post. Literally.

She made me laugh.

When You Were Young

You and me, Baby.

When my mom was visiting over the holidays, I asked her if she remembered me when I was three, my daughter's age. She said, bits and pieces. A memory here and there. You liked such and such, I think. You were like this, or maybe like that.

"What was my first word? Did I have a favorite toy? Did I talk as much as Ella?" 

"I don't really remember."

It scared me. I have trouble remembering my own childhood, but I've been living under the delusion that I would remember my daughter's, my son's. Always. How could I forget? He babbles a lot with such a knowing look, you wonder if he'd be offended if you told him you don't speak his language. She likes Adele; no, loves Adele, and has a habit of breaking out into song when she's busy doing something. He sucks his thumb. She pretends she's a koala and balances while holding on to my leg when she wants me to stop working at my desk. He likes to hold my hand when he sleeps. She moves her hands when she's nervous or embarrassed. 

And yet, while showing E's baby videos to my parents, I found there are pieces of her I have already misplaced. I'd forgotten she used to be scared of bubbles, and whether she, too, loved to grasp my hands.