Last week I was forced to venture out to the mall in search of moisturizer. My previous moisturizer was nearly gone, and, thanks to pregnancy, had lost its effectiveness anyway. My skin is normally sensitive and dry, so I sought out the help of my reliable Origins counter in Macy’s.

The young sales woman (maybe 18 or 19?) approached me as I was looking over the available choices. “Can I help you with something today?”

“Yes, I’m looking for a new moisturizer. My old one isn’t working well anymore.”

“OK, no problem! What’s your skin type? Oily? Dry?”

“Pregnant.”

The confused look on her face made it clear she had never been in my condition before. “Uh, pregnant?”

“Yes, pregnant. My skin is currently highly sensitive, oily at times, dry at other times, and generally unpredictable.”

She took a deep breath. “Wow, really?” I could see she still didn’t quite understand.

“Yep, it’s like condensing an entire adolescence into 9 months.”

“Ooooohh, OK.” There we go – I managed to find something she could relate it to.

I had clearly stumped the poor girl, so we decided to just look at the ingredients list on each moisturizer together to find the one least likely to make me break out in red patches. Knowing that any choice was a risk, she thought it best to send me home with some free samples to try out first before committing to any single product.

I’m encountering the same problem with shampoo, also. They don’t make shampoo for pregnant hair. I see shampoo for dry or damaged hair, oily hair, colored hair, etc., but nothing that is for “hair that is lifeless, oily at the roots but dry near the ends, and prone to change without warning”.

I’m still wondering when I’m supposed to get that “glow” of pregnancy. Right now my hair is flat and dull (but growing rapidly, just to make sure any cut loses its style in a week or less), my skin alternates between a snowstorm of dry flakes and erupting mountain-sized zits, and my waist has officially given notice and called it quits. I only hope my waist will once again forgive me and come back again after this baby is born.

A lot of this is very similar to my pregnancy with Cordy, only about a month ahead of schedule. Just like last time, I have yet to gain a pound with this pregnancy (still down a few from my starting weight, in fact), yet somehow my butt is twice as big. It’s clear the laws of physics don’t apply to pregnancy, for how can a body part expand to double its size without a single pound gained, and with no visible loss anywhere else? Are my fat cells filling with air? Surely there is no biological need for this, right?

Luckily, stretch pants are available, and for that I am thankful. Hell, Old Navy even shrinks their sizes so I can feel good wearing a L or an XL. I’ve never been into high fashion, so I feel no shame at all in wearing stretch pants every single day. And I now have stretch pants to fit nearly every occasion: shiny, smooth, and silky stretch pants for work, cotton stretch pants for everyday wear, and one old pair with a big hole in the thigh for wearing around the house. Pair them with a long tunic top for work, or a sweatshirt for home, and voila! Easy, comfortable maternity clothing.

Of course, with all of these changes to my body, people wonder why I don’t have any pictures of myself pregnant. I have two pictures total from being pregnant with Cordy, and they were taken at the same time, two weeks before my c-section. But this time, I’ve decided I’m going to take more pictures, at least to show off the pregnant belly growth. Just don’t hold it against me if I leave my face out of the picture, at least until I find a moisturizer that works.

(No, there’s no belly picture yet. Maybe in a week or two, once the belly starts to protrude more so I don’t look like I just have a beer gut.)

Cordelia is at that age now where we are never quite sure what to expect from day to day. Some days, or even only for a few moments, she acts as if she is still a baby. But then other times she surprises us with a new phrase, or a new action, that makes us realize just how quickly she’s growing into a little girl and no longer just a baby.

I used to think that language was a slow, gradual development, something that is slowly acquired and practiced, with small steps forward each day. Cordy would learn a new word here or there, or learn a new way to apply a word, but each step forward sometimes had a step back, or a period of rest before moving on to the next lesson to master.

In the past week, however, it’s as if she has grown months all at once. Her language abilities have exploded, and she’s now asking us questions in full sentences, and showing a new grasp for vocabulary that we have never seen before. I don’t know if she was simply gathering her knowledge over weeks, processing that information, and then all at once figured out the secrets to communication, but in just one week we have reached a point where we can expect her to understand us, and even expect her to respond as well.

This morning, I went into her room to free her from her crib (she’s always awake before me), and she looked up at me and said “Hi, mommy! Itza beeeuuwwtiful day!” I was a bit stunned by this articulate greeting.

As we walked past Aaron, with a towel wrapped around him, she looked at him and said, “Daddy, baff?” Aaron laughed and replied, “Yes, daddy had a bath.” He then told me that when he brought her home last night, he had noticed that she was talking a lot more in comprehendible sentences. When they got home last night, she immediately asked him for a drink, letting him know she was thirsty.

And then, as I changed her diaper this morning, she reached over and played with her pirate ship, then looked right at me and said, “Hey mommy, are you a piwate?”

I know these little progressions certainly aren’t astounding for a child this age, but having it all come at once amazes me. It’s like she’s been holding out on us for a long time, or perhaps the laws of language and communication suddenly made sense to her.

Toddlerhood really is a long bridge between infancy and childhood, and we’re now at the point on the bridge where the land of childhood is coming into view, and the world of infancy is fading into the mist. She’s doing more for herself now, and expressing her wishes and dislikes with more than whining and crying.

Just this morning she pulled her pants up on her own while getting dressed, something she’s never been interested in trying before. In fact, she now is forming opinions about clothing, too. Where before she let us put anything on her, she now wants a hand in choosing what she wears, starting with which jacket she wears. Each morning she will only put on the jacket she wants for the day. If we try to convince her to put the green one on, she will push it away and walk to the coat stand, saying, “No, purple! Purple!” if she wants to wear the purple jacket. No amount of reasoning will work at this point.

Of course, reasoning will have to come later, as she nears the end of toddlerhood and steps off that bridge into childhood (and even then, reasoning is still a process). Until that time, we will simply have to pick our battles, and she will continue to toss off her hat in sunny weather, and then wear nothing but her hat while in the house.

Thanksgiving was quite busy for us. On the day itself, we drove an hour south to visit with my mom’s family, and then we drove 30 min. north of home (an hour and 30 min. total) to visit my father’s side of the family. We had a full meal at the first stop, and then just dessert at the second stop.

While at my father’s, we found out my cousin and his wife were in town with their daughter, so we stopped by my aunt’s to visit with them, too. We started the day at 9:30am and didn’t get back home until roughly 7pm.

Cordy was a trooper most of the day. She napped in the car between families, and even ate a little food for everyone. When visiting with my cousin, she didn’t even mind that the much smaller 16 month old was trying to bully her. It’s a good thing Cordy isn’t a bully – she’s big enough that she could do some damage to another kid.

As usual, after mingling with relatives, all of whom came from different areas and brought not only good food to eat, but also the exotic viruses from their particular region, at least one of us was destined to become sick. It seems to happen every year. And yet people wonder why I can’t stand kissing relatives and dislike them kissing my child.

Cordy started us out on Friday night, by having 4 messy diapers within a 12 hour period. She’s normally an every-other-day kind of girl, so we knew something was up. And worse, these messy diapers seemed to be full of flesh-eating acid, because each one caused more and more redness on her bottom until she had a massive, raw diaper rash.

At first we worried it might be a reaction to something she ate at Thanksgiving. We’ve been suspecting lately that she might be allergic to cinnamon. I know, weird allergy, right? But every time she eats anything with cinnamon, she usually has a bad diaper rash a day or two later. And at Thanksgiving she had her fill of pumpkin pie and cookies, all laced with cinnamon.

But then Saturday night, at the height of her diaper pain (the rash was so bad we had to give her Motrin to help her deal with the pain – the poor kid couldn’t sit down), I started to feel ill. Dinner was tough to stomach, and I was feeling really tired and worn out. Then Sunday the stomach bug hit me full on. I think I’m mostly back to normal today.

Today Cordy seems better. Her rash is starting to scab and hopefully heal, and she’s smiling again. I must remember to call this week and get us both in for our flu shots before the next family gathering. Who knows what nasty bugs a relative will bring with them to Christmas?

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Be sure to check out Mommy’s Must Haves today for information on Land’s End’s baby photo contest. You could win a $250 gift certificate to Land’s End!

I’m convinced that to work a kiosk in the mall on Black Friday, you need only have a pulse and the ability to speak. Speaking well, with forethought, is not required.

The scene today as I walked by a kiosk, pushing Cordy in her stroller:

Saleswoman: Ma’am, do you straighten your hair? Could we give you a demonstration of our new hair straightener?

Me: No, I don’t straighten my hair. It’s naturally straight. (trying to walk past)

Salewoman: (looking down at Cordy) Oh. Uh, what about your daughter? Could we show you how it can straighten her hair?

Me: Are you effin’ kidding me?!?! She’s two! (walking off immediately)

Yeah, right, I want to straighten my toddler’s hair. Just as much as I want to perm it, as some people think I do. The kid won’t even let me comb her hair without thrashing around and screaming. I can just imagine her sitting still to have a hot styling appliance applied to her hair. We won’t even go into the issue that she’s too young to deal with beauty issues like that.

Idiots.

Today marks the one year anniversary of when I first got up the guts to sign up for Blogger, pick the first blog name that came to mind (well, fourth actually – the others were already taken), and take the plunge into blogging.

Before that, I had been reading a few blogs for a little over a month, thanks to stumbling upon Blogging Baby earlier in the fall and clicking over to read the personal blogs of the writers there. I had a LiveJournal at the time, but it was for friends-only, and there was little more than a bunch of personality tests and a few random updates on my life here and there.

It’s hard to believe it has only been a year – I feel like I’ve been doing this for such a long time. In that year, I’ve written 315 posts, and who knows how many words. I’ve met some amazing people (both virtually and in person), and I am so thankful to have them in my life. Yes, I’ve met some trolls, too, but I’ve learned there really are nice people on the internet, and many people who have been through or are going through many of the issues I have had to deal with. It’s nice to not feel alone in battling those issues.

Looking back over the year, I can now safely say that I think I’m an OK writer. Not someone who can regularly bring people to tears or belly laughs, but I can get a story across decently without boring many readers. I see plenty of room for improvement, but hey, I have my own space to write here, so I have an endless supply of time and computer memory to work on my writing.

What a year it’s been. It all started just before Thanksgiving last year, when Cordy was 14 months old and still not walking yet. She had far less hair back then, and drove me insane with her refusal to take naps. When she did fall asleep, she did so with stealth, or just an inattentive parent. She got to play in the snow for the first time, and as Christmas drew near, we decided she was buying for all of us this year. We made it through the Christmas marathon, and I introduced you all to my crazy great Aunt Dot and her bad gifts. Just before the new year, Cordy made some big developmental leaps that made my life a hell of a lot easier.

The new year had a bite to it – well, actually, the new year started off with Cordy biting, and I shared with you how not to travel with a toddler. I also made a big decision around that same time that my life clearly wasn’t busy enough, so I went back to school. My blog became my confessional as I told you about my toddler who wouldn’t hold her own sippy cup, my struggle with depression, and the fact that Cordy is a TV junkie.

I’ve given my thoughts on mommyblogging, as well as on the stupid debate between stay-at-home and working moms, and wondered why there isn’t more part-time work. I’ve ranted about Babycenter, ranted about women peeing on the seat in the bathroom, pondered how we lived without cell phones, and shown you that when compared to kids 300 years ago, we’re easy on our kids. You also read of the disappointment I felt regarding having a c-section with Cordy, and why I don’t understand how women could willingly choose to go this route.

In the spring, you got front-row seats for the wrestling match of the century, and held my hand through a breast lump scare. You shared my fears of being stalked by the Avon lady, and gave me advice on what it was like to be a sibling or have more than one child. You learned I am a natural worrier, especially as a mother, and that I have a secret obsession with Maury Povich. I’ve also proven that I am now starting to look old.

I’ve dealt with parents treating my daughter like a freak because she’s big, store employees telling me my child is a pain, and dealing with the fallout of my daughter frightening other children. At the same time, I’ve also felt helpless to step in when someone else is treating a child badly. I also risked the ire of some bloggers to confess I gave Cordy scotch to help her teething pain.

July was a month of ups and down. You witnessed my first ever offline blogging post, written during a boring Chemistry class. I got a mid-month BlogHer test run by meeting a group of local bloggers, which has now turned into a monthly event I always look forward to. Then, two days before getting on that plane for BlogHer, I had the shock of coming home to find our house had been broken into and robbed in the middle of the day. I considered canceling the trip to BlogHer at that point because I was so upset, but in the end I decided I needed to get away. And thank goodness I did! BlogHer was so much fun!

In September, we experienced two happy events. First, I found out I was pregnant (and later reminded myself to never do this again), and then later in the month we celebrated Cordy’s second birthday. I also gave my tips on Halloween costumes and toddler clothing to avoid, and asked all of you to reflect on if you’re really happy.

It’s been a busy year here. Cordy has gone from crawling to walking, and from wisps of hair to a full head of curls. I started as a lonely mom, working part-time to make ends meet, blogging to get thoughts out of my head and hopefully find other moms to commiserate with, and now I’m back in school for a new career, expecting a second child with my loving husband (who graciously puts up with all I do), and I’ve found a wonderful, supportive community of moms, dads, and friends thanks to blogging.

Thank you for reading what I have to say, and thanks for those times when you leave a comment. Without people reading this and responding to my thoughts, I probably would have shut this personal project down long ago.

Here’s hoping for an even better second year.