JAM(B)

{16 months just the other day}

 

The A Report

Present dislikes are:
wiping your hands and face after a meal
changing clothes
getting your hair washed
brushing your hair
putting your hair up
pretty much anything having to do with your hair
being woken up
cutting new teeth (we all dislike that one)
cold milk

Likes:
shaking your head vehemently in indication of dislikes
grabbing Hanna's tail
feeding yourself
green beans, mashed potatoes, sweet tea
playing with the hairdryer
pacifiers

soft things (like blankets & "bobo"s)
taking the dogs out (i.e. letting you grasp part of Hannabelle's leash while we do the corralling)
being held when you're upset or not feeling well
grape Tylenol
daddy

Your happy dance is my current favorite personality trait. When you're super-excited about something (like, for instance, stealing a sip of chocolate shake for the first time), you cock a smile, start with a shoulder wiggle and then quick-jog tap dance in place. You only do this when extra-specially pleased, so it's a treat to catch.

Since one of your favorite things is being tickled by daddy, you've actually begun requesting it by eyeing daddy suspiciously, backing up and snickering in anticipation of the attack. You even say a version of "tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle!" like daddy does when tickling. Then you try to do it to him. Presh.

Yesterday mommy was getting you ready for school and had only managed to remove the top half of your pjs when you began flailing your arms wildly. Daddy found this highly amusing and starting singing "I'm so excited, I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it" in accompaniment (a la the Pointer Sisters - or Saved by the Bell - depending on your generational preference ;)  You then worked yourself up into even more of a tizzy and got down with a whole body shake. It was so funny to us that we just sat there laughing and singing as much as we could remember to keep you boppin. I'll have to remind daddy that encouraging you to dance topless is perhaps not the most intelligent of ideas in the future...
 

I just think you really like music. Wheels on the bus might be your favorite, since you can do most of the movements that go along with it (kind of like dancing). Sometimes you even get your dollies in on the action by shaking them to the beat (daddy taught you how). We have two "groovy girls" dolls, their bed and stroller that we purchased at a garage sale down the street. Interestingly, you most enjoy sitting on the bed yourself and persuading us to push you around in the stroller.
Yes, it's built for dolls.
No, that doesn't stop you.
Or us (like I've said before: enablers).



You can now feed yourself alarmingly well, if not with complete accuracy. The dogs are looking mighty plump as a result.
But you are a great eater, and you sign for hungry and all done (you could probably say it, but actions are more fun, right?). Most of the time, however, you just sign for "more." In relation to everything. I like to think that when I'm holding you or giving you kisses, you're signing for "more mommy love." Usually it ends up being food or a paci. Or daddy.

You are finding your voice, though, and have been repeating certain words we say. Helping me fold the laundry one weekend, you uttered a perfect "shirt." Crystal clear. 

Hasn't been repeated since.

Other things come up more often. When Mia drove you around one day and you heard her tell the other cars to "go, go, go!" you locked it in your memory and have been shouting "go, go, go!" every time we're in the car (and sometimes when we're not). You've recently changed it to "ho, ho, ho" in honor of the holidays.  :)

I guess the repetitive stuff is easier for you, because after watching the "grasshopper" episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, you began singing "bop, bop, bop" in response to "do the grasshopper..." That or we have just watched certain on-demand episodes waaaay to many times. You're even parroting the advertisement that comes on in between stuff when the moose says "ya-yuh... sweet!" Your imitation of him is spot-on.

For some reason, most of your memorable incidents happen at school. Though you've regressed to the scream-cry when I leave (save the few times I've managed to sneak out during snack), we are often greeted by one or more of your friends attempting to crawl into mommy's lap with you or bring you a toy. One particular morning, I sat you down and doggone it if every boy in class didn't flock to you en masse. I though it was just precious, if slightly alarming. Quite the greeting, little princess. You must have smelled of syrup...

On a random Thursday, Mia dropped you off and disclosed that you and Chase had slow-danced that day. While holding hands. It's probably best I didn't see it in person, 'cause I fully believe my heart would have shorted out for a minute over all that sweetness.

We've been giving in on the no-pacis-except-at-bedtime rule a bit due to your recent tooth resurgence. It just seems to comfort you, so we leave an emergency paci (or "e-pac") at school just in case. One morning after we washed our hands, you walked right over to a (somewhat hidden) spare toys bin, reached down between a few things, and plucked out YOUR paci. I looked at you incredulously and said "There's no way you hid that there purposely... right?" The paci-filled Cheshire cat smirk you shot back was confirmation enough.

Unfortunately, not all your school time is filled with cuteness and pleasantly entertaining stories of play. I'm sad to report that your class officially has a serial biter. We're pretty sure we know who it is, but when they call and send home the note, the euphemistic and PC phrase is "your child was bitten by a friend." Well apparently, your little friend decided to become a cannibal and go in for the kill by biting the crud out of your plump little rosy cheek. The red marks lingered for days. Not that I blame his desire to aim there, but a kiss would have been preferable. You poor, poor baby. As it says on the sheet VK sent home, the course of action after such an occurrence was to apply ice, hugs and kisses, but I bet that hurt and scared you something fierce. The next day when I dropped you off, we found your friend Chelsea with a matching red mark on her puffy cheek and the kids separated into two groups. When mommy told Ms. Alecia that I hate for you to have been a victim, but I was a little glad you weren't the biter, she said "Yeah, Ansley doesn't really bite. She tends to slap."
*sigh* Exactly. 

(I should at least mention here, though, that your swatting/slapping instinct does seem to have lessened. Conceivably, we've rounding that corner and with any luck it will soon pass. Though it's sure to resurface sometime around May 5th..)

I am happy to report that we've finally turned your carseat around, since you exceeded the weight limit just recently. I really don't think it was comfortable having to scrunch your long legs up against the back anyway, so the timing was good.

We're almost ready for the holidays now. You can tell by the guest room dedicated solely to your presents. And by the ornaments strewn about hung on the tree (daddy had the amazing idea to have you help us put up decorations, which has resulted in your constant desire to remove an ornament and then unsuccessfully "put it back"). And the fact that there was snow on the ground for a few days just a couple weeks ago. Mommy and daddy took you out to play briefly, but it was mighty cold and your boots were not of the "snow" variety—they left you slipping and sliding with a buildup of sticky flakes on the soles. You sure did look darling nonetheless.

 

And now on to your brother, baby B... or should I say baby Bryker because...

iT's A BoY!

Or, as Dr. Cousins so delicately puts it, "It's a penis!"

Good thing, too, because daddy says when he thinks about it, he's not sure he could've handled more hormone-filled balls of emotion like you and mommy without reinforcement.

I have to admit, it does feel like the pressure is off at least a little with this blog, because I know he simply will not be as interested to hear about his paci-flinging, potty training, daycare days of our lives as much as you (being a girl) probably will. But I'll try to keep it up all the same and devote parts to both you and him.

So here's the update on you, little mister Bryker Jon:

Around the 10 week mark, mommy went and had her eyes checked. My prescription hadn't changed, so they rewrote it and sent me on my merry way. Lo and behold, about a month later I was driving to work and something just didn't seem right. I couldn't focus, and things looked blurry. So I sucked it up and wore my (very old) glasses for a couple weeks before they could get me in to re-check. Come to find out, a little baby was messing with my head and somehow affected mommy's vision! The doc said it isn't very common, but he'd seen it before. Hopefully it will go back after you're born, but you never know. Maybe you just wanted to ensure that I saw the world differently with you.  ;)   Most definitely, baby.

Speaking of appearances, everybody says they can see you much more, and noticed you much earlier than your sister (since you're #2, I'm not surprised). Daddy thinks you're sitting lower down, thus perpetuating that "boys are carried lower" wives tale.

I felt your first movement around 17 weeks or so. You've been quite active since then; reassuring me when I get a little nervous and reminding me of your presence. I like the swirls and rolls. They're probably the thing I missed most about being pregnant when I wasn't. But having a sweet baby to actually hold in your arms remedies that pretty well. It's quite possible we'll get to the point where you're taking up a bit more space and the jabbing starts to hurt, but I'll just enjoy the mini-flips and twists for now. Literally, you're doing them as I type. Awwww. My little fishie.

After your anatomy ultrasound, mommy and daddy had a date night at Red Lobster to celebrate and conjecture about the teeball games and campouts of the future. Daddy is very excited about these things, so even if you're not really into them, if you wouldn't mind just pretending for a while, that would be great. Thanks, B. You're off the hook if your sister likes them. ;)

We took a few bets on what you'd be, but I'd had a boy feeling for a while. Of course, this convinced me that I was actually having a girl and something was trying to throw me off, but you, my sweet little one, have been blessedly easy on mommy. I don't know what it was that made me think I'd be violently ill with a wee lad (ok, I do know - it was my mom and the difficult time she had). Let's just say I know how lucky I am, and I'm thankful for it every day.

Maybe (to quote a clever friend) if He only gives you what you can handle, I can't handle much. I like to think that I'm just meant to have your daddy's babies, and perhaps several of them, so God is taking it easy on me. I know that's not necessarily true because tons of people who deserve to have the easiest pregnancies have really tough ones, but that's what I'll choose to believe for now. It's ok if I'm delusional, cause I'm pregnant.

Just last week, there were a flurry of events (outside the womb) that had mommy and daddy on full alert, but turned out to be relatively minor. After our annual friend holiday party, mommy was walking (yes just walking) to the car, stepped off the curb wrong and sprained my ankle. I fell to my hands and knees—mostly because I was carrying stuff and couldn't put any weight on the foot, and daddy came running. It's still just a little sore, but the worst part was not being able to carry and chase after your sister. She so did not understand that.  ;) 

And then two days later, coming home from work, mommy was rear-ended on Wendover. When I finally got ahold of daddy (on the one day he left his phone at the office) to tell him I was not hurt, but they were towing my car just in case the airbag deployed late, he stopped listening after "towing my car," decided it was totaled, then proceeded to call his entire family to let them know. I felt fine, save a small amount of whiplash, but we did want to be sure you were ok so daddy and Mia took me to the hospital to get everything checked out. You will not be allowed on Wendover during rush-hour until you're 25, by the way.

But now we're past the half-way mark and everything (that can be checked) checks out. Mommy was way too giddy about getting a few small Christmas presents just for you. Ansley will be opening them in your stead, since your own hands are kinda small and tucked inside mommy's belly right now (probably shielding your face, as you like to do during ultrasounds).

We are so overjoyed to add another bundle of love to the family in several short months. I sometimes think I'm still in shock and not really processing it. Daddy often forgets I'm pregnant (ok I'm not going to hide it; I do too. Only 'cause you're so wonderful and quiet. Just know that it's a too-good-to-be-true kind of scenario, kid). We can't wait to welcome you into the world. Hopefully not until April/May, though. Just sit tight till then ;)

Septoberfest and a Little Announcement

{14 1/2 months and going way too fast}

The babbling has become very conversational lately, and I often feel like I'm holding a conversation with you, though you're saying nothing coherent. Your repertoire of actual words has grown to include ball, baby, bo (you adorably call all dogs "bobo"s), up, mia, bumpa, go, and juice. There are probably more, but those are fairly consistent. We're working on please and thank you.  ;)

And since we're on the subject of talking, your most favorite expression of excitement right now is the gleeful squeal. Though I am quite certain anyone who is not related to you would call it overkill, you like to let loose a short, piercing shriek when greeting your friends, playing with Hannah, and pretty much any time you're excessively psyched. I think it's perfectly delightful that you and Jake exchange quick scream-greetings when I drop you off, but since it also sometimes incites the other kids to screech and shout, I doubt your teachers find it so cute...

You may be teaching them bad habits, but at least they're helping you drop others. Thanks to daycare, you have also begun relinquishing the paci (save extenuating circumstances—like sleeping at night). You don't even put up a fight anymore when I remove it and send you off to play.

Of course, one of your favorite things to do is eat. Yes, you're still particular about milk and will only drink it once a day in warm bottle form (seriously, I'm just gonna put all the bottles up one day and be like uh-oh where did they go? Mommy and daddy are such enablers), but when you're hungry, it's go-time. I love watching you eat noodles, since you somehow got that 'lady and the tramp' slurp down and they disappear faster than I can twist. Pizza and pasta are high on your list, but your favorite is still barbecue and green beans. My little Southern girl! We know you're done (or bored) when those food- or sauce-filled hands dart up and rub the yummy goodness in your hair. [*shaking head in defeat]. At least it makes for some interesting hairstyles.

We took you to the Dixie Classic Fair in early October, though daddy felt you were still a little young to enjoy everything. Not necessarily, we found, since you downed half the 32-oz lemonade we'd purchased for ourselves and 3/4 of my roasted corn. You absolutely loved the petting zoo, even if you tried to eat the "feed carrots" yourself and kept trying to kiss the goats (I know they kind of look like dogs, sweetie, but they're not). And aside from a 45-minute power nap, you hung like a champ. After your nap, we rode a couple rides and called it a day, but I'm glad we went. You even tried your first taste of cotton candy and funnel cake. Next year will really be a treat. If we don't give you a stomachache...

 "I think I'm gonna like the fair!"

 "It's a bit sunny. Dad, glasses STAT"

 (Maybe you'll like the rides better when you're old enough to go on them yourself.
And you're awake)

 (Feeding the goats. Right before you tried to kiss them)

 

"I'm sorry; what is THAT?"

 "Niiiice alpaca. Sooooft."

You've definitely become more.. sensitive? aware? adult? of late, and when you're hurt or sad it takes a bit longer to calm those nerves. It's clear this is part of growing up, though, since it's hard to understand those feelings at first. Just this morning, something fell on my foot and when I cried out in pain, you got scared and ran to me whimpering. It's really amazing the things you're starting to grasp. You seem to swat out randomly when frustrated, since you can't yet say what you need. Sadly, the dogs and a few brave friends at school receive the brunt of those beatings. We try to curb it by showing you "sweet" and "gentle," but it's a natural part of your development, too, and supposedly quite normal at this stage. Most recently, you've started building up tantrums in the middle of meals. When you've had enough and can shake your head no more, you wind up and lob food away like a major league pitcher. We try really hard not to laugh.

You have a unique fascination with shoes and the act of putting them on, and will often grab one of daddy's large dress shoes and haul it over for a fitting session. Funnily enough, you're also fairly obsessed with your reflection, and must think you look especially good in hats. Every time we place one upon your head, you hold it steady and slowly walk to the mirror to check out the hotness. It is so flipping cute.

You're still as active as ever, which was totally evident at your school Halloween party where all the other kids sat quietly with their snack as you climbed on the table and danced around your chair (let's not practice those two things together in the future though, k?). We spent the majority of the time chasing you round the room to ensure a minimal amount of destruction and flailing.

For some reason, you can't even ride your bounce & spin zebra like a docile child; preferring instead to climb upon its back and "trick-ride"- if you will - whilst standing. Your play has become more involved, too, and your mimicking more accurate. Mommy brought you a cheerleader puppet as a prize when daddy and I went to New York, and the first night we played with it, daddy was holding her up - pretending to talk to you in a lovely feminine voice. You studied him closely for a few minutes, then grabbed the doll by the back of the neck, held her up yourself and started yapping away in a totally different voice than your normal jabbering. I was amazed and quite proud, but it may or may not have been a little more maturity than I was ready for at 13 months.  :)

On Halloween, Meme Kay and Bumpa brought you a giant orange punching balloon and spent maybe two minutes showing you how to use it. Since then you've been picking it up, wrapping it around your fingers and pounding away merrily like it's second nature.



And for your viewing pleasure... a little dance:


You stun me daily with the things you learn, and what you just assimilate. Though you still think brushing you teeth means sucking the toothpaste from the bristles, we're working on modeling that more correctly. You'll get it eventually. And daddy says it's ok for now, cause they're just 'practice teeth.'  (hah. oh my goodness..)

And here are a few more Halloween pics just because you're so adorably precious:

 (Your actual Halloween Eve costume)

(First lollipop ever... that I know about. Could not remove it from your hand until it broke apart and fell on the pavement).

  (Ok, so this isn't quite the smiley happy photo you were probably expecting, but seriously - look at those two faces and tell me there's no resemblance!)

In case you didn't know, you are daddy's absolute pride and joy. I would say you're a daddy's girl, but it's more than an understatement. You have no idea how much daddy loves you. In fact, I think he's been waiting for you his whole life. The two of you romp and play, and you have the most special, sensational laugh that you reserve just for him. You were absolutely made for each other.

Speaking of which, you are going to meet someone else very special who was made for you in May(ish) of next year!

I have utmost faith that you'll be a wonderful big sister (amidst the squeezing and smacking that is sure to occur), but what I really want you to know is that you were a big part of the reason we decided to have another baby. True, we'd always talked about having kids close together because of the bond near siblings can share. But mostly, mommy and daddy adore you to pieces and consider you the most wonderful blessing we've ever received. Our enormous love for you somehow made our hearts grow bigger and brought us to the conclusion that another baby like you would bring double the joy! Amazingly, God saw fit to grant this wish quickly, and has entrusted us to grow and raise another one of His children. It truly overwhelms me to know His grace. And you are going to love having a little.

(See? You're already overjoyed ;)

Preg2 Update:
Mommy is happy she can still fit into a few pairs of pre-maternity jeans, but that will be short-lived. Baby b (you're a; this one's b) is starting to grow and taking me with it! My apologies if I've simply not had the gumption to update your blog lately, but growing a tiny human is somewhat exhausting. And perhaps the thought of keeping this up for two of you is a bit wearying in and of itself.. 

Amazingly, though I've definitely been tired and less-than-energetic, it's not as bad as last time when mommy took naps at least twice a week in the first trimester. This is either because my body is adapting and saying "hey, we've done it before; we can totally handle this," or because there just isn't nearly as much opportunity to be tired with a little Action Ansley scampering about this time around.  :)  Same thing with the smell sensitivity, since I'm positive that at this point last time I was doubling over with a whiff of meat or garlic. This time? Meat: good. Garlic: goood. What's not to like?

Dear John

I wanted to do something different today in honor of daddy's birthday, so I wrote the following for him:

I like that you type with your fingers on the right keys; that you care whether or not your clothes match and when you do your "fun hair" on the weekends.

I love that you give me a real hug when you get home from work and how you get Ansley in the morning sometimes when I'm too tired to wake up. 

I like that you say you love me 20 times a day, and that every time you mean it. 

I love that you've wanted a family since college, and that it's totally obvious when I see you with Ansley. 

I love how excited you were to finally get a truck so you can do "man things" and get dirty (but that you feel the need to clean it immediately when that dirt shows up). 

I like that even though you detest normal shopping, you have fun buying toys and kid stuff. 

I like that you can cook, and that you don't have to follow the recipe (sometimes ;). 

I love that we somehow always end up matching even though we claim not to try, and that you actually know how to iron a shirt and don't make me do it. 

I like that you always want to ride with the windows down-even if it messes up my hair, and I love that you automatically assume the driving position when we go somewhere together. 

I like that you're just as happy to spend time with the fam as you are to have a guys' night, that you "get sucked in" to my shows, and that you get so much joy from playing with A. 

I love that you still call me beautiful and that you get mad when I dismiss it. 

I like that even when you dream-cheat on me, you feel bad about it (haha sorry about that). 

I like that you go through your mail with an actual letter opener, that you have files for property, and that your favorite games involve money and real estate (dork ;)

I love that you look good in a suit. 

I like how you call margaritas "marg"s, that you get overly-emotional and cry at the movies (Toy Story 3…), and that you have an abnormally strong gag reflex—even though it requires that I handle the particularly saturated diaper-changing occasions.

I like that your dancing repertoire includes the James Brown and random handstands, and that neither of those require much liquid courage before they're unleashed.

I love that you think date nights are just as important as I do.

I love that you are genuinely touched by peoples' kindness and faith, and that you're constantly striving to give more of yourself. 

I like that you are just as awed by your love for Ansley as I am. 

I love that you're my lobster, my penguin, and my other half; and that this list doesn't even cover half of what I love about you.

Happy 33rd!

J.A.M.

-McKenzie

Day-to-Day A

{13 months - and a pinch}

August was a really busy month for us, what with the 4 birthdays in 1 1/2 weeks at the end of it. We celebrated your "first" with almost all of your aunts and uncles, and of course all the g-rents. It was a big turnout for such a little girl (I cannot explain to you how lucky you are little one), and though you were a bit timid at first, you warmed up quickly and walked around surveying the partygoers much of the time. I don't think you were too crazy about the cake on your hands (or maybe it was the 30 people watching you expectantly and blinding you with pictures ;) but you were a good sport and rubbed an adequate amount of chocolate frosting on your face for our amusement.

You also racked up on the presents, and since mommy still feels bad about not getting around to those thank-you notes in time, I hope everyone will forgive me and accept a blanket thank you SO MUCH for the heaps of adorable clothes, toys, bibs, frames and books they all brought. We are so grateful just to have those amazing people in our lives; gifts are above and beyond. [Basically, your friends and family rock].

Mommy had an insignificant number birthday (alright it was the big 3-0) at the end of August, for which daddy got us tickets to New York. It was the first time we'd left you for more than a day/night (wow can you believe we spent a year by your side? ;) and we were nervous as all get out. But the grandparents picked up our slack, had a blast keeping you occupied and helped you forget about mommy and daddy for a few days. We were busy in The City, but missed you terribly and kept our phones handy for quick photo-fixes of your cuteness. Somehow, we made it through. But boy were we happy to see you!!! Guess that separation anxiety works both ways...

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My favorite thing about you now at just over one year is that you're all of a sudden incredibly eager to sit in my lap. I just find it so endearing that you actually make it a point to run over with toy or (wonder of wonders) book in hand, turn around and plop down for me to play with or read to you. The deliberateness is utterly charming. 

(laying in Bo's "lap")

Perhaps because of this lap-sitting impulse, your interest in books has skyrocketed (cue chorus of angels). You LOVE (and by love I mean are obsessed with) "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" We play it on a loop, with you turning the pages faster than I can repeat the rhythmic refrain.

Mia recently revealed to me that you have also been practicing your fake smile (or "Chandler smile," as I like to call it). Apparently, it's a give and take thing. Mia does the fake smile and you flash one in return. I've only seen it in her presence, but it's wonderfully silly. You're such a goofball.

You and daddy have also started a tradition of waking up early on Saturday (and thus, blessedly giving mommy an extra hour or two of sleep) to visit granny, grandpa and pa pa. The weather has been beautiful as of late, so your preferred method of transportation to these playdates is the green plastic car mommy found at consignment.

You basically just get to run around, eat and soak up the attention on these visits, so I know you must thoroughly enjoy it. But I think your grands enjoy it just as much.  :)

Sadly, we had a run-in with your first ear infection over Labor Day weekend. But to get past a year without one is doing pretty dern good, so mommy won't complain too much. The worst part was seeing you all pitiful and in pain and not being able to help. Not surprisingly, you loved the bubble-gum-flavored amoxicillin.

Let's see, what else is going on in your world? You are:
 

• Downing food like a champ, though you still refuse milk that is not optimally heated. This is a problem. 

• Breaking my heart with the separation anxiety. When I take you to school and you literally scream as I tear myself away, I have to force-plaster the "reassuring smile" on my face. It does not help. 

• Enamored with your daddy. Apparently tickle-fights and chasing are your weaknesses.

• Becoming a philanthropist. Clearly you must think the dogs are starving and have no food to eat that does not come from the floor, because you've taken to tossing pieces overboard during mealtimes (both when we are and are not looking). The dogs love you. 

(Wait... have you been bribing Bo this whole time??!?!!)

• Not a fan of eating out. I realize this is probably because it necessitates you being strapped to a chair and not running around like an escaped monkey, but dude. It doesn't matter what toy, cup, utensil or person we try to bribe you with: you will tolerate only a set amount of time in the chair and no more. Apologies to any innocent patrons who've witnessed "the breaking point." It's not pretty.

• Conversely, loving the outdoors and anywhere you can explore without bounds. Since we don't yet have two baby gates, this includes the stairs and has required a hasty lesson in proper descent and stair dismount. 

• Well on your way to a full set of teeth. 4 on top, 4 on bottom, and molars starting to come in. I do wish they'd hurry up and get here already and stop hurting your poor little mouth, but you're so sweet and don't complain about the pain.

• Very interested in daddy's hair. Though you've become more tolerant of accessories in your own curly tresses, it's the banker coif you most enjoy petting and rubbing against your face these days (a la soft doggy fur?). Not sure why, since it's most certainly gelled in place and can't really have the silken touch you're so fond of, but oh well. It's cute. Plus, when daddy bends down to let you pat his head, you lean against him and then move your face from side to side for some Eskimo kisses. Precious. 

• Miss independent. You seize the toothbrush from my clutch when brushing your teeth, force me to relinquish the spoon mid-scoop and insist on carrying everything yourself (including the wondrously overstuffed "round dog," who is almost your height and four times as wide). I love it.

• Happy, smiley, full of life, and pretty much the perfect one year old!! You are so beautiful and such a blessing, it's almost hard to believe you're mine. It's like sometimes I can see God's light shining through you and beaming right out at me, and I'm amazed my heart doesn't just burst from the sheer magnitude of my love for you.

You were even such a trooper at your one-year photo shoot that you managed to smile through the pain of an earache and teething and let Lindsey capture some pretty shots. What a good girl you are.  :)

Wee Pee

Daddy decided that you were ready to start potty-training yesterday [precisely two days after your first birthday, if you're counting] while watching you do the squat and push in the throes of evicting a poopy. Despite the fact that we did actually purchase a toddlerpotty, it has not yet been set up (and I'm pretty sure that according to most, a normal potty-training age is more like two). 

So when daddy ceremoniously announced he was "taking you to the potty," marched you over to the guest bathroom, depantsed your tiny self and HELD YOU OVER THE PORCELAIN POT EXPECTING SOME ACTION, I doubled over in hysterics/horror/disbelief.

THEN, after waiting 2.5 seconds and declaring a failure, daddy thought it cute to let you fly out of the bathroom half-nakey (the bottom half, natch) and into the den. As he called for mommy to check out the show, I turned my head just in time to catch my little Action Ansley stop mid-run, assume the position... and pee a delicate five-second stream of tinkle on our freshly-cleaned carpet.

I handed the paper towels over to your darling daddy and said "you know this is totally going in my blog."

*Disclaimer: In the interest of fairness—according to Granny Mac's recollection, baby Jonathan was potty-trained at the age of 7 months. So I'm sorry if daddy has some unrealistic expectations for you munchkin. He was apparently a wee pee prodigy. Or it could've just been the M&Ms...

1-derful You!

So I've finally finished retroposting, and we now have entries beginning shortly after we found out we were having a baby (yay!). Most of the preggo pieces are not Ansley-directed anyway, but I wanted to go ahead and get them up so I could actually feel like we started in the right place. But since Ansley is pretty much the most entertaining and interesting part of our lives, it's still all about her [see below].

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I cannot believe how quickly the past year has gone by and how much you've grown and conquered and what a mini-person you are! This time last year, mommy was putting the finishing touches on the nursery and swelling with pride (and fluids) at your imminent arrival. And now you're about to turn one; run-tottering toward me with arms outstretched and a huge toothy grin. Believe me, munchkin, I have never been more proud of anything in my life. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. (You and your daddy, of course ;)

Though it pains us to see (only because it happened so fast), you're walking around all "no big deal" now. I can barely catch you on camera.

"What? Pshhh, I came out walking." 

My favorite time is when you're getting sleepy and you stumble around looking intoxicated and losing your balance. You are constantly trying to pick things up and walk with them (even things that are supposed to roll and/or support you), which gets significantly more difficult when you're sleep-wasted. And for some reason, tiredness also makes you think you can lift items that are 3 times your size. Which you can't. But it's cute to watch you try.  ;)

We send you off to school sporting shoes every day now, since I think you forgot how to sit still. For some reason, you find it incredibly hilarious that this produces 'stinky feets.' Like, for real. When we catch a whiff and reel back in (semi-)mock disgust, you giggle like you totally did it on purpose. 

Your personality is starting to emerge in little pieces. You imitate and respond to us more often when we ask now, giving kisses and pointing out your parts (specifically head, nose, tongue; with varying accuracy).



Apparently, you entertain everyone at daycare with impromptu bouts of interpretive dance (quite possibly a contributing factor to the stinky feet syndrome). But mommy does love that you're now old enough to perform So-You-Think-You-Can-Dance-esque lifts and flips. We try them out in the playroom when daddy's not around to get any ideas... (just kidding daddy!)

You have recently begun to scream erratically, often when frustrated (like a high-pitched siren-style scary movie scream that we're hoping will die down once we learn to communicate a little more efficiently), and I think you're going to be a bit of a daredevil. You absolutely love to be surprised/mildly scared. We play hide and seek and "I'm gonna get you!" like they're going out of style. You get a big kick out of running away and then turning back to make sure you're being thoroughly chased. 

You're beginning to show interest in books, if only the continuous opening and closing of them. We still read to you.. well, let's be honest... at you. Sometimes you're just tired enough to let us finish a whole story. So clearly you won't be smart. But at least you're pretty.  ;)   Just kidding I'm sure you'll be smart too. And if you're not supersmart, you'll definitely be an athlete, as evidenced by your 'Action Ansley' running, climbing, dancing and tumbling skills. And intense practice of said skills.

Since you usually only let us read whilst you are otherwise occupied, mommy will occasionally just pick up a book and simulate storytime (in vain hopes that you'll suddenly take to it). Last week when I got to a passage about mischievous monkeys, I made the "oooo-ooo-oo-aah-aah" sound and you dropped down to all fours and began jamming out as though headbanging. Totally ignored the rest of the book, but you must really like those monkeys...

After a little coaxing and several unsuccessful attempts, you've even grown to enjoy the tree swing handydad hung for you last month. Though mommy is much more cautious and tends to remove you from a situation if you don't seem to like something, daddy's philosophy is "try it until she likes it." Surprisingly, this makes for a good balance. If we don't confuse the crud out of you.

You now randomly approach Bo and envelop him in sweet hugs, which is the most adorable thing ever. But Hannahbelle is beginning to catch your attention, too, and you find it comical to play the "I'm gonna get you" game with her. Except you like to be the chaser. Although Hannah is very good at evading capture, she pauses to let you think you have a chance and makes you laugh when she feverishly spins her wheels and takes off again. You also enjoy tempting one or both of the dogs with whatever puff, pretzel or cracker you have in your hand and then swiftly revoking it like "Oh here do you want some? Syke. This is mine, dogg."

Your favorite field trip to date is Emerald Pointe. Or as we like to call it "the giant bath tub you get to stand up and walk around in." You aren't so much into splashing, but you frolick and float as if you and water are BFFs. The first time we went, you rode the cyclone and almost instantaneously zonked out. As it was church youth day and there were no free chairs to be had, mommy and daddy took turns holding you up in the kiddie pool. I'm sure it was quite humorous to passersby to see a baby in a lifejacket all passed out and suspended in the water, but you float-slumbered for a good hour, powered up and were ready for round two of bath/playtime.

Though I'm sure you could care less what you're wearing, mommy likes to pretend you're her life-size doll and dress you up in at least two outfits per day. Since your current wardrobe rivals that of Mariah Carey, this is not hard—except that you hate the process of getting dressed. And forget putting a bow in your hair. If you spy or feel its presence, it must die (or be yanked out at once). Apparently ribbons are generally offensive, since you also try to pull them from other peoples' hair.

(just before you caught wind of that evil hairbow...)

You're still teething like crazy, and were actually out of school right after you turned 11 months for the fever that accompanied the teething. Which is no small wonder because you were getting four new teeth at the same time. You have since popped two more, for a total of eight (four top and four bottom). Since you absolutely love the taste of Tylenol, we survived. Barely.

In other happenings:

Another one of your future crushes, Cooper Samuel Morrison, was born on July 13th!

Isn't he just so precious you want to snuggle him for hours? Well too bad; you probably won't be allowed to date him either. (Just kidding). Maybe his G.I. Joes and your Barbies can ask your dads if it's ok and then date.  ;)   

Ah who knows if or which any of you munchkins will end up together. But as Aunt Jaclyn pointed out, you and Jake may be destined to become "future power couple Jakesley."

And if you don't, Jake will always protect you.
Just like he does his big sister:

(by screaming profusely at the offending party)

Step it Up

(Ansley in her patriotic best; courtesy of "cousin" Brooklyn!)

So the other morning mommy was stunned awake with a sudden splash of cold water on my face and neck. I shot up at the speed of light (so fast are my ninja-like reflexes), ready to repay the culprit with a few choice adult words. Though I wouldn't have put it past daddy to pull that prank just for laughs, deep down I knew better. I turned slowly around to meet your grinning mug, and the animosity vanished more quickly than the amount of time it had taken to erupt. I swear that smile is like sunshine. I can't even be mad at you when you dump half a bottle of water on my head! Might as well call the SuperNanny now...

Of course, daddy was not beyond reproach, but all he could offer was "I didn't know the cap was gone!" amidst raucous laughter. I'm not sure I totally buy that..

(I mean isn't that just the best little belly laugh?!)

Your current favorite game is dropping stuff and getting us to pick it up. If we don't, you lean over and try to retrieve it yourself (whilst endangering your life). This is only fun for one of the parties involved.

You also love to practice baby gymnastics with daddy. You're especially great at the back flip over his knees to the floor maneuver. You like to do it until you're too dizzy to get back up. Mommy doesn't usually let it get to that point. (I know, I'm such a buzzkill).

Interestingly, daddy has begun training you like a dog. When you get too close to a hazardous item or situation, he yells "AH-AH-AH" loudly in warning. Yesterday, when he wouldn't allow you to examine his tool bag, you turned around, stared angrily into his eyes, and yelled back. When he repeated (AH-AH), so did you. It went on like this, tit for tat, for several more rounds. Mommy felt like she was in the middle of a jungle monkey standoff. Amazingly, you never touched the tools. But you were not happy about it..

You've begun imitating certain other things we do, too. When daddy picks you up, gives you a hug and pats your back, you pat him right back. (The cuteness meter on that one is off the charts). 

Also of note, you have discovered your nose, and for some reason find it necessary to stick your finger up there as often as possible. This recently resulted in the picking of your very first boogie, which daddy called mommy over to see and then expeditiously wiped on her arm. Blegh!

Bo is still your dog of choice, and you've started calling him by name. In fact, you've started calling lots of things "Bo-Bo"s (or just "Bo"). I did notice they were trying to teach you "ball" at school, so it may be a combination of that and your love for Mr. Bojangles.

You enjoy feeding yourself, too, and have started refusing to return the spoon if you get ahold of it. Since you try to swipe it the entire time, it's pretty much impossible to feed you anyhow. You can imagine the amount of food that does not land in your mouth. I'm sure you prefer finger-foods, but dangit the pureed stuff is so much easier! If I manage to get anything in from said spoon, you regurgitate it postehaste and catch it, then examine the texture on your fingers. Disgusting. We are seriously going to have to work on those table manners young lady..

You've taken to compulsive waving as well, and will whip out this little floppy-wristed salutation on cue (when we say "hi" or "bye"). Strangers find it adorable, which just encourages you further.  :)  I'm pretty sure the hi wave and a few hand/footprint art projects are what we have to show for the obscene amount of money we pay to your daycare. Glad to see it's paying off. Just kidding I know it's worth it. They actually seem pretty buttoned up there, and have you drinking from a sippy cup, signing for "hungry" and "more," and dragging your own sleep mat to the floor when you're tired. We've yet to replicate any of those at home. (You've trained us well, young Anslikin).

Oh yeah, and when Granny picked you up from daycare last week, they told her
"She walked 5 steps today!"
Um, excuse me? I thought they weren't supposed to tell us that so that we think we're the first ones to see you walking!! I mean you've been standing expertly and practicing the wobble-step wobble-step fall with great persistence, but we've yet to see more than a few strides. Let's step it up at home, precious. (Kidding, kidding). Actually, it is most adorable to watch you walk around [barely] holding onto daddy's hand. If it were up to him, you would never let go.

Exhibit A:



I know I shouldn't be too anxious; you'll be running away from me in no time.