So Says Sloppy Joan

Sentimental for Sloppy Joan

November 5, 2015
I was sitting at work when the phone rang.
“OK, I need you to talk me down off the ledge,” my friend said. “Is it crazy that I’m  heartbroken about getting rid of my baby swing?”
“No, absolutely not,” I quickly answered.
“I just stood there and – I’m gonna cry again right now – I played the bird sounds on it, you know, and I sobbed.”
“Totally normal.” I assured her.

“OK, I’ll let you get back to work. I’m just … emotional I guess.”

Just a month ago, I literally sprinted out to the garage, not allowing enough time for thoughts to permeate, put the bent and battered oscillating chair down by the trash bin, wiped my nose and told Hank I didn’t want to talk about it … like ever. There’s no telling when it will strike and what seemingly meaningless object will trigger the catastrophic hormonal mommy meltdown, but we’ve all sat and played the birds at some point.

In the spirit of forbidding our children to grow up, I want to freeze a few memories in place here. On Monday, my baby was 17 months old. She’s popping new teeth two at a time and repeating words and being just generally awesome. Here, for no other reason other than to fill my digital baby book and personal posterity, is an incomplete list of reasons I can’t get enough of this freaking kid.
15 Reasons to Love Sloppy Joan 

1. She had 4 teeth, like, forever.

Screen Shot 2015-11-04 at 9.13.00 PM

2. Sometimes we play this fun little game where she pulls on my ponytail and as soon as I say, “No!” she plops her head down like she wasn’t there and has no clue what I’m referring to.  Then does it again. It really hurts, I’m not going to lie, but the fact that she plays it off makes her too cool for me to care. I can’t even be mad.

3. She picks up every bite of food with her thumb and forefinger, as if each morsel deserves her very judicious and meticulous scrutiny before being shoved into her mouth for consumption. (Even when she’s dozing off.)

4. She’s a body slammer, this kid. One of her favorite things is to start from across the room and run, arms outstretched, until she plows into you. This also ties up with the fact that she always thinks you’re chasing her. If you’re coming up within 5 feet from her back, you just opted in to her assumed game of chase. Prepare for her to trot and giggle away while peeking over her shoulder in your direction. Trust me, you’ll love it.

5. After a seemingly endless phase where everything was, “this,” she’s transformed into a petite little parrot, repeating the words that filter through her tiny ears and register enough to come tentatively from her budding voice. If we were awarding points for articulation, she’d earn the highest marks for, “Mama!” which she now shouts from her crib upon waking on Saturday mornings in a demanding, almost disgruntled tone that I just adore for some reason. (What does that say about me?)

6. Her whale spout is everything.

7. She tootles around with her hands tucked behind her back. You know, like your teacher did while you were taking a test in grade school. It’s so cute, you guys, I just can’t describe it in a way that will do it justice. I also can’t seem to unholster my cell fast enough to capture it, so you’re gonna have to trust me on this one.

8. When I pull her out of the tub, I can’t get a towel around her before she dives into my lap to snuggle up, soaking wet. It always makes me feel like I peed my pants in the most endearing fashion possible.

9. She sits in her little hiking backpack so nicely and urges me to, “Go, go, go … Go, go, go …”
10. She loves it when I gently tickle her skin, especially on her face. Homegirl drops from a dead sprint to a puddle when I graze her cheek. Mouth open. Drool. It’s beautiful.
11. She sniffs out GoGo Squeezes like a bloodhound. If the pantry door is cracked, she’s pulling out a tasty pouch and it makes her hangry mama so proud.
12. She learned to dance. Moves include: fast feet, spins and falls.

13. I’ve never seen anyone as flexible as this baby. It’s a Cirque du Soleil every day up in this house, and it equally impresses and terrifies me.

14. The tickle she gets from taking one arm out of her shirt.
15. Her belly laughs. If a sound could be a cure for the hurt in the world, it would be this one.

Thank you for humoring me. Now let’s all go smell an old burp cloth soaked in Johnson’s baby wash and cry, k?

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  • Reply libby November 5, 2015 at 2:40 am

    HOLY MOLY that one arm crib pic. that belly laugh. bottle up and send me some Sloppy Joan – STAT!

  • Reply Tara November 5, 2015 at 3:03 am

    Loved reading this…. made me think of the many little unique things that I love about my 17 month old. I just gave away our walker this weekend, talk about pulling at the heart strings to see that piece leave this house… glad to read it’s not just me. Your little girl sounds absolutely precious by the way!

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