Sunday, March 11, 2007

Toothpicks, pepper and unprofessional photos

Again, you have been learning by leaps and bounds. We were headed home from the grocery store on Friday night and when the light turned green, you yelled GO! It's little things like that amaze us. Just watching as you put the pieces together and figure out how the world works. You can count, or at least memorize the numbers. If I say one, you always say 'tuuu', then 'feeee.' If we are counting to ten you always say 'niiiii' in the right spot - just before ten. When I exclaim, 'shoot!" you always repeat it...even though it doesn't sound quite as non-swear-word-like when you say it. Another favourite expression of yours is holy cow which you will practice saying over and over.

I've always had a knack for always knowing exactly what you want. This morning, we sat on the kitchen floor while Dad looked at flyers, I perused cookbooks and you drank our coffee. I had left the cupboard above the stove open to which you pointed and grunted to show how badly you needed something from there. Of course it was the hors d'ouevres pointy toothpicks that you would likely use to poke us with. When I said, toothpicks? You confirmed, 'toofpit." We told you, no, no toothpicks because they are sharp. Your pointing continued so then Dad asked it you wanted the pepper. Yes, 'peppup.' We compromised and gave you the birthday candle jar. But good girl for taking initiative and saying words - even when we don't ask you to! That's the new part.

We went to the Mackenzie Art Gallery yesterday. There were a couple new exhibits. You were mostly fond of checking everyone out and sitting on the benches and stools. There was one exhibit made mostly from destroyed ceramics and pottery. You made a point of getting as close as humanly possible without touching anything. There were even a tiny ceramic bunny and turtle that were in need kisses. Anyway, the weather was amazing. You didn't even need a touque or mitts. While we were walking to the van, we stopped so I could torture you and Dad and take some pictures of us. (Better get used to it because this is the way it has to be. Consider yourself lucky that I will never take you into Sears or WalMart to sit on a chunk of wood covered with carpet and cry in between shots.) By this point we had already given you a handful of snow to eat. Or rather, you just scooped it up yourself and took a chomp. When you were done, though you would not stop gazing at the crunchy white stuff and therefore would not look at the camera. It was kind of a dud day for photos. Oh well, you're still cute.

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