Last night, at approximately 8:45pm, my husband Aaron completed the NaNoWriMo challenge and finished his first novel! On November 1, after reading about the challenge, he decided to try writing something longer than a character sheet for an RPG. He had an idea that he had been pondering for awhile, so he set his mind to writing that story. And while the challenge asks for 50,000 words (which he hit before Thanksgiving), his word count is somewhere close to 80K.

Some of our friends have been reading it while he wrote it, and are very impressed with the work. It’s kind of a cross between a superhero novel and Call of Cthulhu. The next step is for him to edit it, then pass it off to a friend to edit. This friend is working on his Master’s degree in English (creative writing), so he should be a good editor. After that, it’s off to be submitted to publishers. I’m excited about all the possibilities for him: his current job is beyond awful, so this gives him a creative outlet and lets him find some happiness in work. Oh, and this is only the first of a trilogy for him.

Now, if they only had a NaNoReadMo challenge. Then I could claim to be a winner as well – it’s the first novel I’ve managed to read in only a month since becoming a mother!

Congrats, dear! You did it!

It’s approximately 1pm here, and Cordy is currently awake, having just finished lunch, and is watching the Wiggles, enraptured. There has been no nap yet.

Cordy has never been big on naps. Once she finally worked out a night sleep schedule around 5-6 months, we tried to establish a nap schedule as well. At home, we were lucky to get 2-3 naps out of her. When she was in daycare, they would often tell us as we walked in “She only took one 15 minute nap all day – we really think your child is a mutant, because babies this age should sleep more.” This statement was repeated often, with more and more frustration in their voices as the months went on. We often refer to her condition as “afraid she’ll fall asleep and miss the pony rides.”

Around her first birthday, she decided that 2 30-minute naps were too much trouble (because, after all, a toddler has places to go and things to see!), and she dropped the afternoon nap. Luckily, this lengthened the one nap to 45 min. or even an hour! A friend of mine told me last week that her son also only takes one nap a day – a 3 hour nap. The envy coming from me had to be visable.

But today, we’ve had two aborted nap attempts, and she is showing no signs of slowing. I wish I could explain to her that while she may not need the downtime, I need it. It’s my one break for the day – one of the few “me” benefits I still have in mommyhood. A chance to recharge and rest and not be on duty. A nap makes her a happier child and me a much happier and tolerant mommy.

UPDATE(3:10pm):
I finally convinced her she was tired and Cordy took a 35 minute nap. It’s not a long break, but wow did it help both of us.

What happens when you leave a toddler visually unsupervised near a box of tissues for 5 minutes?

This:

Today was a special day for me. Every 6 weeks or so, I’m asked to work a Saturday rotation at the university, and when that happens, my Wednesday schedule is cut by 4 hours. So not having to go into work until the late afternoon, I got to go out shopping with my mom and Cordy.

We had lunch at Ruby Tuesdays (mmmmm….Bison cheeseburgers), and Aaron met up with us for lunch. Cordelia has made a complete recovery from her roseola, and had napped that morning, so she was doing her best to be the center of attention and bat her long eyelashes at anyone who would look at her.

I never realized it until I became a parent, but children have such a way of making complete strangers amazingly happy. It started with her normal game of “Let’s Test Gravity” by throwing her crayons off the table, just as another group were being led to their table behind us. A nice, 50-ish woman stops and picks them up, taking time to chat and coo at her. Cordy promptly takes them and tosses them to the ground again, where an older lady (the other woman’s mom perhaps?) stops to pick them up and remark on my child’s spirit. Yep, she’s got spirit all right – you should see that spirit when giving her a bath.

Later, after devouring a grilled cheese sandwich, some fruit, a pile of fries, and a gallon of milk, she entertained herself by testing out all of the sounds she can make, at different volumes (EEE! ooh. BaBaBa! Sa-k, SaH-keH. KEEE!) Moms at other tables smiled at us and told us how cute she was. Wait staff stopped to comment on her pretty eyes. Even a slightly demented old lady got out of her booth and came to our table to chat with our little prima donna, singing Cordy a song before going back to her smashed cauliflower and broccoli. At that point, we were creeped out, so we quickly asked for the check.

In the elevator in the mall, she charmed another couple with her bright smile, and in JC Penny she had everyone smiling and waving at her in line for the register as she chirped “Hi!…Hi!… Hi!” to them and did her famous wave (waving to herself – she hasn’t figured out that she needs to turn her hand around).

So, in the process of getting lunch and doing a little shopping, this 14 month old little girl managed to brighten the day of so many people. People she’ll probably never see again. I love that children seen to have this ability to seek out and destroy blah feelings. She’s building up her karma in bushels at this point, I think. I could only wish to make such a difference to that many people in a single day, much less an hour and a half.

At my job, I have a few pictures of my daughter on my desk. When I meet with students, I often get so many comments on Cordelia’s pictures. Many of these students are non-traditional, older students with children or grandchildren of their own. Which means I often go through the following conversation at least twice a day:

Student: Oh, your daughter is so cute! How old is she?
Me: She’s currently 14 months old.
Student: Awww! Is she walking yet?
Me: Well, she can take a few steps at a time, but hasn’t mastered it yet. We can’t wait to see her walk.
Student: (with big grin) Oh, you’ll soon be wishing that she was just
crawling! Once she starts walking everywhere, it’s gonna be soooooo much harder
on you! Then you’ll regret it!
Me: (mumbling) Shut the hell up.

This exchange also happens often with our extended family, friends, and even strangers on the street. And. I. HATE. It.

We had to endure two months of a similar conversation just before Cordy started crawling. But you know what? I didn’t wish that she would go back to not crawling – I never wished that! Why? Because she was not a happy stationary baby. Oh no, she could sit up, but she really wanted to move. If I walked more than two steps away from her, she would wail because she realized she couldn’t follow me. If she saw something interesting just out of reach, she’d scream because she couldn’t get to it.

So I thanked every deity I could the day she crawled for the first time (July 2 – it was such a happy day I have it burned into my memory). And I fully expect to do the same when she starts choosing to walk more than crawl.

Once she starts walking, she will be able to do so much more. Yes, she’ll be able to get into more trouble, sure, but at least I won’t be dealing with wails of protest when I won’t put her down because I don’t want her crawling in dirty areas. If she can walk, I can let her roam around wearing shoes, not as concerned with stained pant knees or hands crawling through who-knows-what-ick. She will be able to move while holding things in her hands, which I know will be one of the more happier moments in her short life thus far.

So please don’t tell me I’m going to regret it when my daughter starts walking. On that day I plan to celebrate her accomplishment with her, as we explore our world from a whole new vantage point.