Wow. Seriously? I can’t believe Muriel is one year old today. My baby! I went to the cave today and pulled out two pairs of Niamh’s old baby shoes since she’s walking now and needs a bit more protection than the Robeez can provide. But am refusing to call her a toddler!

Cheating a bit–this photo was taken yesterday. Today was rather painful, and I meant to take pictures, but it just wasn’t in the cards. Muriel’s nose is running like crazy and because of a fat upper lip she screams bloody murder every time I wipe it. My little climber! She had two huge crashes last week. The first she was on Rowan’s bed using the safety rail to stand up. It’s not very stable, and she toppled over onto the ground, splitting open her gums right above her front teeth. Then a couple of days later I was at coffee with some other moms from Ro’s school. She was standing up on the chair with me and I got up for two seconds to attend to Niamh and Muriel fell off the chair, injuring that darn upper lip again.

Anyway! She perhaps wasn’t looking or feeling her best today. It took me a while to realize that it hurt her when I wiped her nose. Whoops.

She is super close to walking. I found out accidentally last month (that was what I was going to write about, but couldn’t remember!) that she is not allergic to egg. I’d been showing Rowan and Niamh at the store how all the pasta made with egg has a picture of an egg on the package. A few days later Rowan said “Hey! Muriel’s biscuits have egg!” What I had thought was a picture of a pot of honey was in fact a picture of a yolk inside a half an egg shell. So Muriel’s been having egg since she was about 7 months old. Whoops (again). It’s a good thing my kids don’t have any deathly allergies or we’d be in trouble. It just didn’t occur to me that there would be egg in a teething biscuit recommended for ages 6 months +, since in the States eggs are a no-no until after 1 year (right?).

Other news is that she’s been sleeping through the night for a while now. Probably since right after her 10 month birthday. Hip Hip Hurray! I’m starting to feel like a new woman. Or at least somewhat human. It’s a nice feeling.

Anyway. Happy 11 months Little Miss!

The months keep speeding by, this one seemed especially quick…but perhaps I say that every month. I thought I had some things to say about this yesterday, but it all seems to have flown out of my mind. She’s cutting a tooth at the moment, it feels like it’s been on the verge f-o-r-e-v-e-r. the kids still adore her, though rowan is more frequently getting frustrated with “hurricane muriel”. and he sometimes has less than desirable ways of showing his love, such as pulling too hard on her legs and arms, and after being reprimanded saying “But Mama, I love her so much!”

a friend was visiting last week and as we were chatting she asked me to tell her something funny that the kids had done lately. i was stumped for a minute, but then i remembered something, two somethings, actually, that had happened that week within a few days of each other.

I was in the middle of changing the sheets on rowan’s bed, when he begged me to put niamh’s pink sheets on instead of his normal blue or yellow sheets. when i said yes his little eyes lit up and he cheered as he did a little happy dance around the room. “Pink sheets are my favorite!” too cute.

then, just a couple of days later, as i was getting muriel dressed for the day he said “Mama, did I wear that dress when I was a baby?” When I told him that no, he had not worn that dress as a baby he said “awwww, but i love it!” and then a few minutes later “mama, how come dresses are only for girls?” i had to laugh, especially since this conversation happened so soon after the pink sheets.

as i told these stories to my friend it didn’t seem like she was laughing, even on the inside. and then when i got to the part about the dress her jaw literally dropped open before a look of pure disgust came over her face. i just stared at her, not comprehending her reaction, for what felt like ten minutes, but in reality was probably more like ten seconds. when my brain finally recovered enough to form words for my mouth the best i could come up with was “he’s four! it doesn’t mean anything.” and some other stuff. i don’t really remember what i said. whatever it was i stumbled and stammered and didn’t make much sense. and in the end i just gave up, because clearly no matter what i said she wasn’t going to think it was cute or sweet or funny that rowan had pink sheets on his bed and wished he could wear a flowery blue sundress.

it breaks my heart is that someone, someday, is going to look at my sweet boy with a look of disgust on their face and tell him that something about him is not okay. i love that he doesn’t yet realize that boys aren’t supposed to like dresses or flowers or glitter or pink. i want him to hold on to that innocence for as long as possible.

and SO WHAT?! so what if it does “mean something”? so. what.

i wish that i could shield my children forever from the people who will make them feel bad about themselves for who they are.