6 months; 1 post

This has been a long time coming.

I would be apologizing profusely for my lack of attention to this blog as of late, but since you, baby girl, will have no clue how long it's really been between posts by the time you read this, I'm pretty sure you'll forgive me.  :)    [And if you're a friend or family that's just stopping by, you may want to get a snack and strap in. We're gonna be a while.. Really, feel free to take breaks and re-visit later].

I hesitated even typing "baby girl" right then, because it seems that somehow in just a few short months, you've become so much more a "little girl." Despite daddy's resistance to cutting your beautiful, curly, almost tuck-behind-your-ears-length hair to delay the process, you somehow just grew up. You're addressing people by name now (when you call out "mama!" to me, I can't tell you how my heart soars. I absolutely adore it. Remind me to get that on tape). You can even name all the kids in your daycare class. Of course, this started out with the most easily pronounced (Chase) and had us wondering if we needed to have a talk with Chase's parents about your future together and your seeming obsession with the little man. For a while there, we would ask you who was in your class and all you offered up was "Chase" (along with a bright, beaming smile that was probably just you being proud of yourself but totally kept us conjecturing about your pint-sized relationship). One time when I brought you to school and Chase showed up shortly thereafter, you screamed out his name several times in short succession and darted toward him. Clearly, this only furthered speculation.  ;)  And more recently, we passed Chase's mom in the hallway (nobody else in the vicinity, natch) and you purposely waited for her to come up to us before shouting "CHASE!" in greeting. I think she was flattered that you recognized her as his mommy, but I was compelled to confess my suspicion of your love affair and we laughed it out. She said they love you, too. But then you started rattling off "Jake," "Livlia" and "Hay-Lee." And my personal favorite [based on tonality alone], "Dru-Dru" (Andrew).  Apparently, Chelsea is now stuck saying "Chase," so I think he may have moved on. Playa.

The infatuation with BoBo continues, so you're quick to spot any dog in your viewing radius and call attention to its presence. Daddy found this extra comical when picking out birthday cards with you because every other one had a dog on the front. He said you kept walking back and forth excitedly hollering "BoBo!!" "BoBo!" "BoBo!!!" and pulling out each paper pup you discovered. Allegedly, there were about 15 cards on the floor before daddy realized what you were doing.

You also began using words correctly around months 17 & 18 (like hot and cold, shoes, nose, eyes, button, etc... my goodness there are too many to name). Daddy thought it was hilarious when he taught you to properly identify "boobies," so I'm anticipating the call from daycare about you inappropriately denoting your teachers' or classmates' chests any day. You can identify simple things (dog, duck, spoon, ball, eggs, pizza were among the first) and take direction well. My favorite version of this is asking you to "help mommy" do something. You're especially good at folding laundry (taking items out and putting them back into the basket, and then taking them out again) and "wiping" (using a paper towel or baby wipe to towel off your mouth. Or the floor. Or table. Or even daddy, whom you caught off-guard the first time when you went straight for the crotchal region. Hey - it's at your level. And apparently 'you dropped some food there, dad'). Even your teachers say that you become hyper-focused on certain "tasks," and will repeat them over and over. I'd ask if I should be worried about OCD, but I think it's a little early to tell. You have proven to be most helpful in throwing away trash, as the pantry is one of your preferred playplaces. Since you can open and close the door by yourself, you take great pleasure in coaxing mommy or daddy inside and shutting the door. You occasionally let us out when we bang hard enough. 

You can identify "boy" and "girl," but adults are all "mama"s and "dada"s. Which is actually quite cute. Daddy was initially very flattered when you pointed to a large, muscly African American gentleman on a magazine and said "dada."

And now you've begun putting words together. The first example was "good girl," which we use when Hannah is doing something correctly. Since that's not too often, I'm actually a tad surprised you picked this one up (just kidding; we use it on you quite a bit). You also say "up, please" when wanting to be picked up, and have been doing so for at least a couple months now. This has lately transitioned to "hold you" if we don't get you right away - probably because before you say up please you reach out your little arms and look up pleadingly until we ask if you want us to hold you. Since mommy is now in her eighth month of pregness, this is easier said than done for me and apparently frowned upon by BabyCenter. But I still do it. I'm already fearing the day you don't want to be held, so ... whatever BC. You're only 22 pounds anyway (!). 

The word "no" has entered your vocabulary as well; cutest in the form of "No, no Hanla. Stop!" (Said when imploring Hannah to cease licking, nudging or bothering you in whatever fashion). It is less cute when you say it to us. But I have taken to letting you choose the radio station on the drive to school every morning. Mommy tunes in and asks "this one?" To which you will either reply "no," with a hearty shake of the head, or "huh" (meaning, uh-huh) and a single, affirmative nod. Love it.  

I feel like you can communicate so much more efficiently, too. Since you can tell us when something "huhts," or point out/say what food you prefer. You let daddy know if you want "oh's" or "eggs" or "gits" (grits) in the mornings, for example. And every time I open the fridge and you spy the olives, you ask for one. (Interestingly, you love olives. Unfortunately, you have a strange compulsion to dip them in doggie water before completely finished. Are you washing the extra salt off?). You must take after mommy in liking the sour and salty stuff, because you've also recently expressed a love for grapefruit. Somehow, I don't think grapefruit is a favorite for most other 1 & 1/2 year-olds. 

You're also very good with animal noises. Each time we point out a monkey on TV, in a book or on the computer, you give us the "ah, ah, ah!" sound effects. Same for sheep, cow, horse, etc. Pretty much anything you can't identify or that doesn't make noise gets a growl. Which is kind of hysterical when you locate a squirrel or penguin and go "rrrrrr!" 

Evil squirrels...

Storytime has evolved into you 1. patting out a spot on the floor, accompanied by the instruction for mommy or daddy to "sit" (you're kind of demanding), 2. bringing us one of about three preferred reading materials (Hand, Hand Fingers Thumb; One Fish, Two Fish; Cat in the Hat), and 3. going to grab another book after about four pages or distracting yourself by pulling all the other books off the shelf. At bedtime, you'll sit obediently through several stories (unless you're supertired, which you indicate by motioning toward the crib sleepily and telling us 'no' when we ask if you want to read or try to sit down). 

In health news (because there's always something, isn't there?), we've gone through another couple ear infections, four [or is it six??] more teeth and a round of pinkeye in the past four months. Those were obvious irritations (as mommy can barely cope with your pain regardless), but then came the rash. This happened to occur during a rare stretch at the end of March when mommy was particularly immersed in work and had to stay late most nights and work over the weekends. I'd barely seen you in two weeks (though SuperJon did a wonderful job taking over) and was deep in PowerPoint purgatory when daddy called me at work. I believe his exact words were "I've been trying to reach you. Ansley has measles and we're taking her to the emergency room. And you can't be around her for a week because it can cause serious brain damage to the baby." Now mommy had never in my life cried in front of a boss or broken down in a professional setting (not that my job can be considered terribly formal)... until that day. The thought of not being in contact with my baby girl for a whole other week or harming my unborn child completely overwhelmed me and brought me to tears. Ok, caused a major meltdown let's be honest. After my terribly understanding boss allowed my exit, I sat in the parking lot and couldn't even start the car. Thank heaven Mia called and was somehow able to talk mommy off the ledge by assuring me that it was very unlikely that what you had was actually measles (though in my defense, daddy had totally said it like there was a doctor diagnosis backing that mess up), and that even if you did, I'd definitely been vaccinated and would not need the weeklong quarantine otherwise mandated. When mommy was finally able to pull herself together enough to drive, Mia and I met at the house to scour your vaccination records, since once we thought about it, we were also fairly certain you'd had an MMR shot in the not-so-distant past. The freakout concluded with daddy's final report that "The doctor doesn't think it's measles. It's probably only roseola or a viral rash." Didn't even require medication. Yeah. Let's give a pregnant lady a heart attack jumping to conclusions shall we? Thank God you were alright, but whew! Perhaps daddy was hoping to induce labor...

And then there was the call mommy received from school the following week asking if I might have an idea as to why your little bum bum had two small bruises on either side (Ms. Alecia noticed them while changing you). I was so stressed from the recent measles scare and more strenuous work schedule that I couldn't think why that might be the case until the moment I hung up. I called daddy immediately and lamented that I was sure we had unknowingly caused the bruised bottom by encouraging the repetitious singing of Ring Around the Rosey, during which you got so into the "all fall DOWN!" part that you would literally throw your feet out from beneath you and land smack on your buttocks with a loud thud. I'm expecting a call from social services at some point to inquire about our beating you to the point of bruising.

In more current events, you and daddy have been building a garden. Though it's been a long road and half the crop was compromised by those pesky squirrels and rabbits (hey, they ARE evil!), it's your project together and I know how proud daddy will be if and when you're able to harvest. You were such a good helper in putting it together and planting seeds. Even if you were a bit more interested in the water bucket and piles of dirt...

 

Day 1: Playing around the garden

 "I'm pretty good with a shovel."

"I totally got this."

 Day 2: Using the wheelbarrow just like daddy

 "I think this plank should move over here.."

 "Here daddy, let me help you with that."

 "Hold on; I gotta take a call."

 Yes, mommy sees you with your hand all up in that bucket..

And now we plant!

Your obsessions as of late include:

1. Dolls/Babies. Holy flipping goodness. If you feel the need to hold or play with one of your 5 (and counting) babydolls and don't see one in the immediate vicinity, you call out "behbee; behbee; behbee" longingly and circle each room hunting for a child. Most of the time, you prefer to have two or more behbees in your possession at once. None of your dolls have names, save Barbie (who is actually a Barbie). Funny thing is, you distinctly call her "Bawbee" in contrast.

You play-act with all of them; taking them in the tub and "washing" their hair, or removing clothes and changing diapers (which, obviously, in your current wiping craze necessitates an actual baby wipe). We have to make sure when you turn them over, pat their backs and put them "night-night" that we're not too loud or that little finger will shoot up to your mouth and warn us to "shhh! ("behbee sleep!")." At daycare you tend to make a beeline for the dolls when I set you down, and you crack your teachers up making them do all kinds of things (like ride the rocking horse and pet the stuffed animals). Supposedly, you get quite the 'tude if a playmate snatches one of "your" babies - even if you've set it down and moved on to other things (like "excuse me! that's mine"). Changing the babies particularly piques your interest, and you will claim to discover "behbee, poop!" at regular intervals. They tell me you're rather diligent in checking your classmates' diapers as well (omg!!), and will let your teachers know if someone's dropped a deuce. 

Improper? Perhaps. Helpful? Quite.

But you've always been a bit of a leader in the class. Last week when I sent you off, you ran to the dolls and began passing them out. Seriously. I watched you pick up a kid, call out "Chase," and hand it over when he came obediently to you. Then you grabbed another and called Andrew. Such a good little mommy. If a bit polygamous...

2. YouTube. I know, many grown-ups are a tad obsessive about this one, too, but you will honestly sit and watch 45 minutes of random videos on the internet like a pro potato. It's surreal. You clearly have your go-to vids, such as the Muffin Man (love to watch you bop your head up and down to the beat) and duck song ("and he waddled away.. waddle waddle... till the very next day"). You've grown tired of the gummi bear one, but that obscene underwear-clad dancing green jellybear was your singer of choice for quite some time. We've even found some oldies but goodies like the Elephant Show theme song (skinamarink) and Supercalifragalisticexpialidocious. When we've run through the favs list, mommy will ask what else you want to watch, and the answer to this question is inevitably "behbees" or "bobos." So we find some silly dog tricks or chubby laughing babes to satiate your fix. But sometimes you fall asleep.

3. The phone. Besides the fact that you are now "calling" people and pretending to talk to them, you're also quite proficient at the toddler games on mommy and daddy's phones. You especially like morphing animal flash cards, which you refer to as "Bobos." Basically, they show a warped animal shape, you shake the screen and it goes back to its original shape, then spells out the animal. You shake it again to get a new one. I'm fairly convinced you go through all the animals solely to find the dog and ape.

4. Dancing. Yes, daddy, we're in trouble. Aside from the fact that you actually require no music and "can dance all by yourself" (mommy swells with pride), you take great pleasure in doing the Night at the Roxbury head bop and waving your hands to anything with a good beat even while strapped in your carseat. [JB's "baby, baby, baby" gets you every time].

 

You've even taken to imitating silly movements mommy does with her hands and head. And when you're unrestrained and free of the car, watch out. One of your Valentines gifts was a Tik Tok-singing "sidestepper" monkey. You still love turning it on and groovin' with the monk. When you lay on the floor and began inappropriately thrusting your hips in the air at one point, however, we had to intervene. It was a smidge too 'Little Miss Sunshine' for the grownups ... though the intervention may or may not have been delayed by our rolling around cracking up at that visual. 

5. Bugs. Apparently, mommy scared you something fierce the first time you saw a bug and you were forever traumatized, because every little piece of fuzz, speck of dirt, thread, furball or dust bunny around must be carefully inspected to determine its non-bugness before you are satisfied. When you see any such offending particle, you whimper, point, cry out "bug!" and back away postehaste. Mommy's job is to then identify it as "not a bug" and dispose of it properly. This really sucks when it actually is a bug. You're also going through a phase where there are certain things you're scared of, but fascinated with. Which is utterly confusing for mommy, since I don't know whether to let you play with/see those things or hide them away. One such item is your "chatterbox Cookie Monster" that pretty much just says random phrases anytime his mouth flops open. You're just not sure why or how those sounds come out, so you go back and forth with whether or not you actually want him around. At Mia's house, that item is a porcelain mask with hat and feathers that hangs on the wall. I think maybe you're worried it will come to life suddenly, and you want to make sure it doesn't. It's ok. Mommy has always found that mask slightly creepy myself (don't tell Mia). 

6. Potty. Ok. So I've hitherto mentioned (once or twice) daddy's propensity for early potty training, which he began encouraging around month 17 with edible rewards (Reese's Pieces. How very ET, right?). It began by simply extending a Piece for the act of sitting down longer than two seconds, and then we started removing the pants and trying it at the same time each day when you got up. Now, you're totally preoccupied with anything potty, and frequently order "mommy, potty. daddy, potty. wipe." We are well aware when you pass gas, but you politely warn us that you've gone "toot toot!" after the fact. You also know exactly what it means to go "poop-poop" (not to be confused with KaKa - more on that later), but are less forthcoming with that info. Not that it isn't obvious. Any time you need to take a two, you stop what you're doing, find a sturdy object to brace yourself, and grunt away till it's done. Your little face will turn red, you won't let us touch you, and when we ask "are you pooping?" you lie and totally deny it. Daddy frequently tries to get you on the potty before the struggle, but when he asks if you want to sit down, you give a panicked "no.. no" in response.  

Now it's happened once or twice that you've had trouble with the 2s, and at these times mommy and daddy have panicked. Especially when you call for "help?" in the midst of fruitless grunting. Since being backed up also causes you to refuse food and drink, we went a little crazy the first time it occurred. Daddy came running downstairs (having heard your pitiful protests), whisked you up to draw a warm bath and ordered mommy out to retrieve prunes and .. suppositories (as a last resort). I combed two drugstores before finding the correct medicine, rushing back home and sprinting up the stairs – sure to find my poor babydoll writhing in pain. I rounded the corner to our bathroom to find a full tub: sans Ansley, but graced with something else. Something that surely could not have come from your tiny little (absence of a) back side. Could it? It was eerily quiet, so I listened for a moment and heard a muffled voice from your room. As I pushed open the door, you looked up contentedly from the book daddy was reading and flashed a delighted smirk that told mommy everything I needed to know. My kid can muster up a turd beyond her years. We took photographic evidence, but I'll spare any peripheral readers the graphic nature and refrain from posting the content here. Suffice it to say: holy crap.

Clearly, we're still not ready for a serious commitment, since everyone mommy's consulted says the new baby will completely throw off your sit and go mojo, but you're so interested in it, we can't stop completely. And though the plunge to PullUps or panties has not yet been made, you are suddenly hating to be changed in a major way. (Like, you throw fits when we mention the act of changing you and try to convince us to change a behbee instead). Despite this little hiccup, you've peepeed on your pot a handful of times. On Easter Sunday, you were bathing one of your behbees in your water table in the front yard when you noticed that this particular bathtime babe has a hole between its legs (I guess for drainage), and appears to "potty" when taken from the water. Of course, this brought on an immediate chorus of "behbee, potty! behbee, potty!" and required the hasty relocation of one of your toddler toilets to the lawn (where baby could properly sit and do its business).

After a good half hour of this process (dunk plastic child, let her wee, repeat), you mentioned the deuce. I was all set to drop a Hershey's Kiss in the water below the doll when we realized you meant YOU had to poo. And right there in the front yard, with Mia, Zade and anyone on our street who happened to be looking out a window in attendance, we didn't even think twice about stripping you down to sit on your potty (sorry!). After a minute of sound effects, mommy was joking with Mia about the likelihood of your a. actually going #2 in the pot, and b. doing so completely nekkid in front of the entire neighborhood, when you got up, turned around and pointed. And there in the toilet in the middle of the yard was your masterpiece. Everyone was so excited/proud/amused at once we could barely contain the cheering, laughing, praise and celebration. Zade asked if you had a piggy bank where we could reward you for your hard work, so we brought it down and he helped you insert a number of whole dollars. Then we realized that this looked really bad in the absence of clothes (we had at least wiped you and applied a diaper at that point) and subsequently retreated inside so as not to embarrass ourselves further in front of the neighbors.

7. Ka-Ka. No, not the Spanish translation. In this case, Kaka is your own shortening of Mia's pup's name: Kashi. Kaka is a mini LhasaPoo. You absolutely love him, and request him frequently. He is small and soft (like you!), so I understand the compulsion. When I mention "going to Mia's" or anything Mia-related, "Kaka?" is your swift response. But it's probably pretty funny for bystanders to hear a little toddler walking around hailing "Kaka!!" every few seconds when you're on a roll. It's exceptionally humorous when you're asking KaKa to sit, as "sit" sounds like the English slang for the translation of Spanish caca. But Kaka can entertain Ansley like no other. You giggle when he leaps onto the bed or runs for a toy, and when he does his circus dance (up on the hind legs batting the paws) you shriek with delight. You like to imitate KaKa's toothy smile. You take great care, however, to avoid his puppy pads - even when there's nothing on them. I guess because that's where "Kaka poop."  

8. Boxes. Bryker's bedding arrived a couple months ago and we saved the box for you to play with. Evidently, this was one of the smarter things mommy and daddy could have done, because you've since logged hours of playtime in the box, on the box, in the box with daddy, banging on the box while daddy is inside, asking mommy to join you on the box, hiding things in the box, peekabooing up and down from the box and just generally playing with the large, plain cardboard box. We are so not buying you any more toys (just kidding ;)

You're still a pretty good eater, unless you're teething or not feeling well. Grits are your fave, followed closely by Raisin Bran (I know. Go figure), and you frequently request tea as a beverage. Our fault for introducing you to it, I know. It's pretty much all juice all the time now, since you're still not so keen on the milk unless slurping it from the remains of your cereal (so perhaps it's the sugar content??).

And fyi, this entry has been brought to you by the color blue and the number 2, as those are clearly your current color and number of choice. I take it you're learning this stuff in school, because any time you have two things together, you will very plainly state "two. behbees." Or "blue. ball." Those are the ones you get every time, but I've been noticing more and more accurate identifications of red and items in groups of three as well. Your capacity to learn at the point is completely amazing to me.

You are just so entertaining, enjoyable, loving and cute!! Mommy is enamored with you and most everything about 20-month-old you. You've now started in on "dad-DEE" and "mom-MEE" (as opposed to dada, mama), you're hugging people goodbye, and you walk around with a purpose and occupy yourself with games and tasks. You smile on command and say "cheese!" when we're taking pictures (without prompting). Sometimes you make silly faces just because. I think I've been remiss in your journal entries because I've just been watching you live and trying to hold those moments in my heart. Suffice it to say that the fact that you're now hugging and giving kisses without prompting is my dream come true. Honestly–when you wrap your sweet arms around my neck and actually squeeze, mommy could cry from elation. Every time. And I think to myself, "this is why I wanted kids!!" Oh my geez I'm crying just thinking about it. And when I come home and you run into my arms with the biggest, best grin and request "more hugs".. Let me go ahead and call pregnant (and stop myself from gushing too annoyingly). It's overwhelming. Mommy is so blessed to have you in my life. I love you more than I could ever tell you on some blog. I hope someday you get to feel the same thing for your kids because it's pretty much incredible.

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.

Separationally-Challenged

Daddy is still resistant to your growth. I mean I'd like to keep you a baby as long as possible, but am aware that at some point, Peter Pan, everyone has to grow up. So I said to your (normally intelligent, fairly rational) father "I mean I'd like her to stay little too, but what what do you want to do, block her development?" His answer was a firm and immediate "yes." Okaaaaay...

Then as we prepared you for bed, he tells me "I love that I can just tap her on the bottom randomly and it's not weird because I'm her dad." He is so going to purposefully embarrass you when you get older. Can't wait for that.  ;)

Speaking of love taps, you (little miss bright eyes) have been contracting quite the attitude lately. Mia says it's because you're so intelligent that you're reading us and trying to figure out how to get what you want. I just think you get frustrated and don't know how else to communicate. But honestly, there are times when you freak the h out. The most notable example stems from your recent love-affair with Bo. Though he remains wary of your tiny presence, Bo has grown more tolerant as of late. He graciously allows you to pat, climb, pull and mouth him with as much zeal as your little body can possibly possess. You love to play the "mess with Bo until he lumbers off and then chase him to another location and repeat" game. I'm not sure Bo knows you're playing. If we at any point interrupt this bonding (by picking you up), you thrash and whine and twist about as though set on fire. I would think you were in pain if I didn't know better. Current tactics to disarm this bomb include distracting you with whatever toy or person is available, removing you from the room/situation, and bribing you with food. Just kidding about the last one. Taking you away seems to help, but it's tough. It's crazy to me that we're having to deal with this already. Aren't you supposed to stay a baby a little longer? I may be starting to see daddy's point of view on this whole not growing up thing...

Maybe with our own stubborn selves, we should have known you'd be strong-willed. But if this is your first challenge, bring it on. We will nip it in the bud, my little diva. A battle of wills. 'Cause you know what princess? We can out-stubborn you. 

I'm sorry to do it and you may hate me for it sometimes, but you can't always get what you want. If you cry sometimes, though, you might find you get what you need.... 

(I'm joking. We will always try to meet your needs. That's what parents are for.)

The other side of this strange, misshapen parenting coin is that you've also been experiencing bouts of separation anxiety. You have a few favorite people in the world and everyone else is just scenery. Scenery that does not hold the baby...

The preference tier is as follows:

1. Mia

2. Daddy / Bo

3. Miss Alecia and/or Miss Nevona

4. Mommy

5. Granny

etc. (you get the picture)

For one reason or another, Mia is the absolute apple of your eye. To you, no one is more glorious and deserving of your love than your Mia Sally. Well, daddy might run a close second; but if your beloved Mia is around, you only have eyes for her! We discovered this during our week at the beach when you would cry for Mia if mommy took you and reach upside-down-backwards in search of her embrace. 

And hey, where's the "I don't love one parent more than the other; I love them both equally" filter, kid? Aren't you supposed to be born with that? At times when daddy hands you off and I want nothing more than a hug or snuggle, you scream bloody murder (and a pathetic "dadada" on a loop) to return to your fave. I'm sure this makes daddy feel good, but I have to secretly squelch the tears because admitting it hurts my feelings is ludicrous. You don't mean anything by it, I know. But I want so badly for you to love me. I mean I'm sure you do, but I'm emotionally high-maintenance and need the reassurance. Blessedly, daddy and Mia understand and give mommy extra hugs for support. And daddy had a wonderful suggestion of greeting one another before we greet you. That way we can show you the correct hierarchy. It's mommy and daddy; then you. I think the theme here is "this is our world, and we're fitting you in."

And now (since I've mainly written about your noncompliance so far and am feeling a tad guilty because it's really such a small part of your world), I'd like to share some of the things I love about you at almost 10 months(!):

• When you pull up on something and then turn around and wobble a step or two towards me I get so excited (but then I realize that walking = toddler and you're not my little baby anymore, and it makes me less anxious... ). Daddy's probably thinking of any way possible to keep you from taking those steps, but I'm afraid it's imminent.

• You're eating everything (thank daddy for that) with your pinschers, which is basically the most adorable way I can think of to get your dietary allowance. We like to lay it out on the tray and let you go for the gold. Puffs and breadcrumbs turn up just about everywhere, but I'm sure some of it actually lands in your mouth...   The most recent of daddy's ill-conceived food tasting choices? Dorito cheese straight from the finger. Am I on television?

• If you happen to be sleeping and wake up to a face you love (see list above), you burst into that shining smile and start waving hello. That floppy little gesture just melts me to pieces.

• Evidently, you can now produce dog sounds. Miss Nevona shared with me today that you have the "ruff ruff ruff" down pat. You are becoming quite proficient in jibberish as well. I bet you and Bo have secret conversations..

• Often when we play, you create your own obstacle course just so it will require you to climb over us and back again. You particularly enjoy shimmying monkey-style up daddy's chest while he's sideways and rolling over to his back. Gymnast? Maybe. Daredevil? Clearly. I'll start practicing the fastest routes to the hospital.

• At daycare, you have a sleep mat (on account of the pulling up in your crib thing). Daddy and I find it impossible to buy that you actually fall asleep there and stay still, but your teachers insist. When daddy picked you up yesterday, they divulged that you were so ready to nap at 2:30, you voluntarily dragged yourself over and laid down on your mat without prompting. Aw!

• You're loving water (aside from the ocean waves, but they scare me too so we're not counting that). Daddy waded with you at Aunt Jennifer's 30th birthday Tie-Dye and pool party, which was your first time in a big girl pool. You do have precisely 9 bathing suits—several of which are bikinis that may or may not be wildly inappropriate for a baby—so I certainly hope you continue this water infatuation. I'll put some beach pictures up asap.  :)  

Click here to view these pictures larger

• You also have a preference for water from a plastic bottle (sadly, I am not kidding—but I think it's because you find it necessary to envelop the opening while drinking). If it's not in the bottle, a straw will do the trick. And despite daddy's major sippy-cup resistance, he is happy to teach you to use a real cup. Observe:

• You dance. Not that I'm shocked in any way, considering the 2 bachelorette parties, 2 weddings, numerous dance dance revolution battles and countless super baby dance parties of your "youth." And you love music. Granny contends that country is your fave. Traitor. You are my baby, right? I'm hoping to catch you on daddy's phone because corroboration exists only on the camcorder at this juncture. But it is too too cute. 

No, you're not in that video, but I'm just sayin'.. I won't be surprised if they contact you for the next one.

In other news, Aunt Jennifer and Uncle Jay recently welcomed your future crush, Graham Nance Weaver, just over a week early on June 9th. 

Isn't he great at his job? (sleeping)

He is as little, beautiful, and sweet as can be, and I have to apologize in advance that you will not be allowed to date him, as apparently this would be awkward for your father and Uncle Jay. (You can take it up with them). But I'm sure you'll be great friends and you can show him all sorts of good stuff like how to fling pacis and eat sand. Jake still has your heart for the time being anyway.*   ;)    

*I really am joking about these things. But it's only because I so want you to bond with your non-related cousins. I know you're all very popular in your own circles, but mommy and your aunts are kinda close. So if you wouldn't mind humoring us, playing with one another and at least trying to be pals, we'd greatly appreciate it. And I bet you'll have some great stories when you're older (you know, when you're all about to graduate from UNC).

Mobile Munchkin

{8.5 months going on 13}


nooo! my child has become a mean girl! (or at the very least, joined the paci police). last week was precious jake's first week at school, and you decided to make it super-easy (major sarcastic undertone) by crawling over as soon as i set you down, standing(ish) above him, grabbing his paci and throwing it away (in a "seriously, you don't need this here; i'm just gonna relieve you of it" kind of way). and you did so with the efficiency of a hawk snatching its prey. jaclyn thinks maybe you're just trying to "assert your seniority" and show everyone that although you're little, you're no pushover. i would hate to think of my darling, sweet girl as a bully, so i'm claiming that you were really just preparing to go in for some lovin. you are, after all, a shameless flirt.. 

(see?)

and not just with the little guys! at lunch just last week, you could not take your eyes off the young blonde surfer boy who came in as we ate. you were babbling away, banging two toys together, and literally stopped mid-play to watch him make his order. you were distracted by his beauty for a good five minutes, which is a dang long time for a baby. luckily, we were at jimmy john's, so he got his sub freaky fast and left. daddy is still your number one guy, though. and we like it that way. preferably until you're about 18.  

another recent development at daycare has been the need for us to sign a "sleep waiver," because you allegedly refuse to remain on your back during naps and your teachers seem to have grown tired of flipping you around.  ;)  ok so this isn't news to us. on a number of occasions, i will admit, we've put you to bed and check an hour later to find you snoring away on your tummy with your bottom up in the air and legs tucked underneath you. you've also grown to prefer starting out on your side. and honestly, though i know back is best and would absolutely never forgive myself if something happened, i kind of feel like  a baby's gonna sleep how a baby wants to sleep (especially if she's little miss mobile and does crib gymnastics like you do). i'm more comfortable on my side, too. 

you're crawling all natural-like now, and seriously i feel like we went from infant to toddler in a week because you're pulling up on everything and cruising around just like a real little human (ok yes i know that's what you are, but it's clearly surreal for mommy to watch you growing before my eyes)!

(multitasking)

(the plastic bottle - still one of your favorite playthings. 

sigh.)

(and your new favorite toy)

(hmm.. sweetie I'm not sure that particular thing should go in your mouth)

and random/cute sidenote: daddy often falls asleep downstairs to the drone of the television (he claims it's the only thing that puts him out. and since our room remains technologically-challenged, the den is his preferred nocturnal habitat). as i'm sure i've mentioned before, daddy has some strange sleep habits and it often results in incoherent babbling or some form of sleepwalking. in the wee hours of the night last week, he tromped upstairs and fell into bed and i said "goodnight sweetie, i love you." to which he replied "night babygirl. i love you so much."

over the weekend we let daddy sleep in while we redecorated the bonus room with your toys. the dogs started barking randomly as they sometimes do (to alert us that there is a squirrel or rabbit that needs our attention), and apparently it woke him. you and i watched/listened helplessly as daddy leapt out of bed, ran to the stairs and somehow launched himself clear over most of them, landing about 4 steps from the bottom. when the dust settled, he came in the room and admitted that he was half-asleep and convinced we were downstairs in danger. i think maybe he was reenacting his childhood superman fantasy .. just kidding.

Feeding the Soul

Your granny has random weeks where she has to work from 10-7, so she enjoys being your chauffer and taking you to school during that time. Such was the case this week, so daddy dropped you off there before going to work himself. On one particular occasion, however, he forgot his phone in your carseat and doubled back to get it. When he walked in for the second time a mere 15 minutes later, granny was feeding you oatmeal. Apparently she paused mid-shovel, looked up sheepishly and professed "she looked hungry!" Granny told us later she felt like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  ;)  It's quite possible she was enjoying it more than you. Luckily, we sometimes rebel against the daycare schedule as well... And hey, a girl's gotta eat.

(double-fisting it with cucumber and a roll)

(dude, that's the same pose! has aunt heidi been giving you covert lessons?)

And speaking of daycare, can someone please explain to me why it seems that each day I painstakingly select the perfect outfit for you, and without fail it returns covered in a masterful scattering of shellacked poo or carrots? (I'll spare you the pictures). I am now convinced that they a. do not know how to properly apply a flipping diaper, and b. let you feed yourself (or c. resent the supercute/white-colored attire and therefore feel that it must die a horrible, stain-induced death). I have to say that I am for the most part pleased with your "education," and secretly take pride in the fact that Ms. Alicia all but called you her favorite the other day when I picked you up (saying quote 'she's definitely the sweetest baby... and the cutest'). Ok maybe they say that to all the moms when no one else is listening, but come on it's totally true.  ;)  Jake isn't in your class yet, so your status is safe for now.. and even then you know you'll still be their favorite skinny bald girl! Actually, you aren't completely hairless, but that back combover is a force to be reckoned with. I refuse to cut it and leave you with a bald spot, so it just wafts in the wind when we go outside and makes me laugh. It'll fill in eventually.   :)

(if you look closely, you can see the trump hair in back ;)

iCare/Daycare

{21 weeks}

daycare sucks. not for you; for me. i hate that they take you away from me, and that i have to work and can't keep you at home and watch you myself. but i know deep down that you're probably having more fun there than you would with me anyway, and you're actually learning things i might not be able to teach you (currently, you are "working on sitting"). they even had a cute little cubby and labels in the fridge and around the room for you before you got there. however, it does not help when i come to pick you up and they're like "oh she smiles all day; she has the best smile!" and then i come over for a love break and i get no smiles!!! dangit wth. ok so this doesn't happen everytime and you do sometimes beam at the sight of us, but seriously - you could at least pretend that you're happy i'm there and anxious to come home...  ;)   mommy is just insecure, though. i know this. when i had to drop you off on monday for the first time, it took Mimi Sally a good 10 minutes to talk me down in the parking lot  (and caused her a good scare when she answered the phone) because i was too upset to drive away. it was your "mommy? where are you going? face" as i left that stuck the bubble in my chest. ouch my heart hurt to leave you. this is why daddy shall do it from now on (except under extremely extenuating circumstances). 

unfortunately, since starting daycare, you have developed "the crud." this snot-infused, Darth Vader-sounding congestion presents itself at night and causes you difficulty breathing. at least it seems like it's difficult. i call you my little love dragon because you also tend to hiss. you HATE when we use the snot-sucker (a-hem nasal aspirator excuse me) to restore your air passages, but it gets the job done. of course, even after propping you up in your crib and getting a humidifier with Vicks insert for your room, one of us ends up transferring you to our bed in the middle of the night or early morning. we should just start you there - I think you sleep better with us (funny - mommy sleeps worse. not that i mind).   :)


*disclaimer: daddy did want me to mention that he offered to take on the responsibility of dropping you off from the start because he knew how hard it would be on mommy, and this was an isolated incident. i'll be better next time, i promise. 


bonus: your mimi has a short day on Thursdays and is going to be picking you up early when she can to spend the rest of the day with her. she did this for the first time last week, but forgot that your stay would probably require a diaper change and didn't have any on-hand. consequently, you were returned to us wearing this:

why yes, actually, that is, in fact, a puppy pad. 

needless to say, i changed you at once (as soon as i picked myself up off the floor and stopped laughing).