As you now know, my Emma is quite fond of exercising her vocal chords regularly. She’s a champ. In fact, she’s gotten remarkably good at simultaneously exploring the height of her vocal range and turning the volume knob up to 11. The girl goes from 0 to 60 in, like, .2 seconds.  In about as long as it takes for her to realize she has some need that I need to immediately know about.

This, mind you, is only because she’s got something to say. It doesn’t mean she’s upset; it just means she wants to be heard. I understand that feeling quite well, as a matter of fact. And I try to give her other ways of talking in an effort to help her out.

“Emma,” I say, “screaming is for outside. Can you talk to Mommy using your hands or your words?” Or sometimes I say, “In our family we don’t scream at the kitchen table.” At this she gives an overly-excited effort at baby sign language that is usually indistinguishable. And if I don’t catch it and fulfill the need within about 5 seconds of her confusing delivery, it’s all over. She goes right back to her high-pitched, ear-drum busting ways.

And sometimes, Ellie, Tim, or I, at any moment, together or separately, will say “Emma, geez!  No screaming. Shhhhhhhh.”

Truly, though, she’s working very hard. She wants to communicate well. She just doesn’t know how. And she rides at such a high level of emotional intensity most of the time, she probably just can’t help the volume or the pitch. I mean, think about it . . . aren’t us women famous for getting louder and louder and higher and higher the more excited or upset we become?

Well, today as Tim and I were pondering our belting beauty over huevos rancheros that turned out to be more like a burrito, Tim asked me if Ellie ever screamed like that when she was Emma’s age. He didn’t remember! Well. She did.

In fact, I remembered this morning, it was a fairly significant thing in my mommy heart back then.

I was very afraid that if I told Ellie to be quiet or to use her inside voice or especially if I shushed her, that she would grow up with the same wounding I had. You see, the enemy lied to me all through my growing up years (up until recently when I shoo’d him off, as a matter of fact) telling me that I was too loud, too much of a presence, too boisterous, too much to handle. Even though I never remember any of those messages coming from my mom or dad–and frankly, it’s ridiculous to think that my innocent attempts at teaching my children good social etiquette would scar them for life–I was afraid of what the enemy might do in her little heart that I love so much.

But I realized one day in the car almost two years ago as I was sharing all of this with my mom (with Ellie quickly reaching the stratosphere in the backseat) that I can’t live under the responsibility of preventing my daughter (and now daughters!) from receiving wounds from me, or anyone, as they grow up. It’s too big a weight for me–for anyone–to carry.

Shoot, even if I did try to censor everything in their lives, my well-intentioned efforts to shield them from the battle would probably back-fire and land me as the impetus behind some future book about how to get over your mother never telling you that you just can’t scream at the top of your lungs in a small, crowded space. If I continued to parent under that weight I’d undoubtedly be like that mom we all shake our heads about during American Idol auditions as we ask the inevitable question: “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that you can’t sing??”

No, that day two years ago in the car with Ellie and this morning at the dining table with Emma, I had to get up the guts to tell my children to be quiet.

That day with Ellie was the first time I ever told a child of mine to be quiet. It was a huge deal. It was another step toward trusting my baby girl and her heart to the Father, who is so much more capable than I am at protecting her.

I’m learning with both girls that I can trust myself and my ability to parent Ellie and Emma well, and I’m learning to believe that the Father has given me what I need to be their mother. I’m learning to release the pressure I put on myself and put it where it belongs: with the Father. And I’m realizing that I just get to do the best I can with what I have and trust the Lord with my babies’ hearts.

Because for the sake of all humanity and their ear drums, my children have to learn that this is not acceptable behavior for a functional human being, and they have to learn it from me.

Emma turned 1 on June 1. It’s hard to believe that a year ago–a little over that now–my Bertolli Italian Sausage pasta dinner was interrupted by an overwhelming need to visit the hospital and the birth of our beautiful second daughter.

Now we’ve entered my favorite of the baby stages: 12-18 months. Full night’s sleep (well, 5 out of 7 ain’t bad). Walking. People food. One nap. Temper tantrums.

Yep. I’ve got one who loves temper tantrums. Usually at night–around the 6:30 hour–you can find her rolling around on the floor screaming for no apparent reason. We’ve just eaten, she’s taken a great nap during the day, her diaper’s clean–I seriously think she just loves the drama of it all. And who can fault her for that? Especially coming from such a long line of dramatic women.

One night not too long ago, however, Emma stumbled onto something that thrilled her even more than her evening temper tantrum . . .

I don’t know if you can see it–but that’s the look of victory.

Tim thinks it should be renamed “the going back into the womb wrap,” because that’s exactly what happens.

Here’s the thing about me: I don’t like double strollers. They’re huge, they don’t fit through doorways and if they do, it feels like forever before I get the whole thing through the door. So before Emma was born I did some research into different wraps and slings and things so that I could keep pushing just the single stroller.

After much research, I settled on the Moby. I’ve never been sorry.

When Emma was a newborn, she’d settle in to the thing and after a couple of seconds, she’d be out. And not like 5 minutes out–we’re talking 2 hours out. I could walk all over town, sit down for lunch with friends, clean the kitchen at home with her tucked away in the wrap, all the while taking care of Ellie, too.

And now that she’s older, if she’s in it facing me, she falls asleep. If she’s in it facing out, she’s having fun looking at the surroundings. It’s so versatile, so easy, so fabulous.

And not only that, for all those hours I spent walking with her strapped to me there was hardly any body pain to speak of. I can only think of one time on an all-day trek through the farmer’s market and beyond that I started to ache a little in my lower back. Maybe that’ll change the older and bigger she gets, but it hasn’t yet.

Really the only downsides that I’ve found are that it’s a little tricky to get the baby into by myself, and it takes some practice getting used to wrapping it the different ways. And that people around town started getting a little frustrated that they never saw the baby…she was always so cozy and happy in the wrap I never took her out!

If I could, I’d buy one for everyone I know. You can buy it here:

Almost everything Ellie opened for Christmas this year had something to do with princesses. A princess suitcase with travel pillow and blanket, princess big girl pants, princess slippers, princess tea set, princess camera, a cd with princess songs on it, two princess dresses, and a princess castle.

My girl Ellie loves princesses so much that I and everyone else in my family want to give her absolutely everything we could that had princesses on them. I love seeing her so delighted and happy.

I was not always so excited about princess stuff, though. In fact, I’m pretty surprised at myself as a mom, and so are a lot of my friends and family who knew me before I became a mommy to girls.

You see, back in my grad school days when I was writing papers about feminist literature and the like, I swore that if I ever had a little girl she would never ever have princess stuff. I didn’t want her to be spoiled and overly-focused on her appearance and material things–which is something I associated with the whole princess thing.

But then Ellie was born. For her first birthday, we went to Texas to celebrate with my family, and I decided to do the easy thing and buy some birthday plates and cups and stuff. But the only thing I could find was princess-themed.

No. NO. I refused it. I kept looking.

Finally it was the day of the party, and I still couldn’t find anything for a little girl that was appropriate for the 1st birthday and not princess-themed. I called my mom and complained. I cried and told her how much I didn’t want Ellie to have the princess stuff because I didn’t want her to end up spoiled some day and thinking she was a princess.

And then, from the other end of the line, my mom, as she so gently and wonderfully does, brought the hammer:

“Well,” she said, “you don’t want her to think she’s not a princess, do you?”

At that moment my mom in her wisdom saved me and Ellie from something equally as harmful for Ellie’s heart as being spoiled: believing that she’s not a princess, not worthy of crowns and princes and beautiful dresses. I knew in my heart she was right, and I took the plunge.

Now, almost 2 years later, I see Ellie’s heart come alive when she dons a princess dress. She dances around the house, banging on drums, and singing into her microphone. But you know what? You would be hard-pressed to see her doing that without one of her princess dresses on.

I want her to know how beautiful she is. I want her to feel alive in her feminine heart. I believe it taps into something so deeply rooted in her . . . a princess heart that responds to the call of a heavenly king. Maybe for Emma it will be a different thing that reaches that spot. But I know what it is for Ellie, and if that can happen in her 2-year-old heart through dancing around the house with her dad while wearing a princess dress, then it is a delight to me to see it.

For her, there’s no vanity in it at all. Instead there’s a connection to something deep in her heart that has to do with her daughterhood, her heavenly king, her loveliness, and her inheritance in the kingdom of God.

So you might have noticed over there on the sidebar, a list of recommended things. I’m hoping to change those up every couple weeks or so, and I’m hoping to continue to do what I’m going to do today. Actually recommend them.

First things first: I should change the title of this post to What Got My Both My Babies Sleeping Through the Night.

I love all things Baby Whisperer! Before Ellie was born, my sister gave Secrets of the Baby Whisperer: How to Calm, Connect, and Communicate with Your Baby to me, saying that it was a book that actually took into account different baby temperaments in helping moms come up with good and healthy routines for babies and that it explains how to decipher a baby’s cues and determine what they need when they cry.

Well, she was right! Holy cow it is SO helpful! There is a section that explains the many temperaments of babies, along with a quiz you can take to find out which your baby leans towards. And then throughout the book Tracy (the author and I are on a first name basis, that’s how close we are) continues to specify different techniques you can use for each temperament in establishing a routine. And not only that, she has really practical tips and tricks to help baby sleep, without relying solely on crying-it-out. Unlike other books that preach somewhat the same “eat-awake-sleep” pattern, this book is one that I went back to time and time again thinking, “but how can I do that?” and then the answer would be right there in black and white!

And when Ellie and Emma would cry and I wouldn’t know what their cries meant, I would race back to the book and look at the chart of different baby cries. It didn’t tell me everything, because every baby is different, but it definitely gave me some ideas and some things to try.

For both my girls, who have very different personalities, this book was invaluable! Practical, step-by-step kinds of stuff was exactly what I needed as a new mommy who, with our house concerts and worship leading and the like, needed my babies to be on a somewhat predictable routine.

Secrets of The Baby Whisperer is a book that gives a great overview to The Baby Whisperer methodology, and you can find even more practical tips in The Baby Whisperer Solves All Your Problems: Sleeping, Feeding, and Behavior–Beyond the Basics from Infancy Through Toddlerhoodwhich is organized by common issues that arise in early parenthood: nighttime sleep, naps, early waking, potty training, weaning pacifiers, and more.

The other fantastic thing about The Baby Whisperer is the online forum. All the mommies that participate have the same Baby Whisperer (BW) outlook on things, and so the advice you get when you post a question is usually really good. Like everything, you have to weigh the answers you get with how you want to parent, but for the most part, I’ve had great luck with the forums. There are extensive articles on the forums, too, about sleep training and sleep patterns. There’s a forum on breast feeding, on toddler eating habits, and lots more. I spend hours on that thing.

Just writing about it gets me excited. That’s how much I love it.