Weekend report

Sharing leaves with Mommy.

Another weekend over. Another new week to begin. This week will be a long one, too, with neither me or Dad home on Friday. But it was a nice weekend. You and I started it off by taking a walk around the neighbourhood on Friday morning. Actually you, me and puppy. It was so lovely we went to a grass park where we played hide and seek, hid in the spruce trees, layed on the grass and played in the crunchy leaves. As we made our way home, you found a cozy piece of driveway where you and puppy and your pile of rocks sat until the man on the riding lawnmower at the church about three houses away started coming in our direction. You started to panic, grabbed puppy and what rocks you could quickly grab and said, "Oh no. Gonna get puppy, rocks. Let's go, mommy!" Pretty much the same thing transpired when your dad brought out the vacuum on Saturday - except this time you had to protect your bowl of popcorn.

Look wayyyyy up.

Saturday morning brought the arrival of our long-awaited king-size mattress. So Dad put together the base/headboard we got when we were in Calgary while I drew outlines of your (always) naked body with a Sharpie onto packing cardboard. Then the real test began - we layed down for a family nap just after one and didn't wake up until 4:15! Now we know that Nana isn't drugging you to keep you down for so long since you finally did it in our presence.

You get the best ideas - like sitting at the end of someone's driveway so that you can put down your little pile of rocks (right) and have a rest.

Anyway, it was our plan to go to Montana's for supper but no one told us there was a Rider game and all their fans needed to eat out beforehand, filling every restaurant in the south end. We did manage to squeeze into Pasta Prima which was good because you always order, "Noonals, peez" anyway. And it was good. I think we don't go there because we prefer booths so you can roam back and forth while still being contained. But to our surprise, you almost sat in your chair with a booster seat the entire time. And like you always do, you ate your penne alfredo like we don't feed you otherwise. Then you had two big bites of my chicken pesto pizza and half of your strawberry ice cream. Out in the van, you wanted to end all the eating with a piece of gum because you love to chew gum and you chew it well.

Today we were up at 6 and at the grcoery store just after 9. Every time we get groceries, you seem to make your way to the bakery door to wait for someone to give you a cookie. Today it was chocolate chip and marshmallows. While I'd never imagined you could put little marshmallows into cookies, it was awesome. And as always, I usually have to go it alone while you and your dad look at/play with toys. Not that I mind... And tonight we took Skye for a brisk, fresh walk. You ate a whole container of popcorn, your favourite snack, a little box of Smarties and a whole sippy cup of warm milk. Because it gets dark so early, you are convinced that it is very late and you must get your bedtime rituals underway much earlier than we would have decided. You were in teh tub by 7:30 and asleep in your new double bed by 8:30 - which is much nicer for the three of us to read stories in without someone laying half on the floor.

And you fell out of our new, big bed late last night. I remember hearing a thud followed by a wahhhhh. When I looked, you were kinda bent backwards with your legs flat on the floor and the rest of you ninety degrees smushed up against my night table. You didn't remember it today so it couldn't have been too traumatic. I suppose I'll pad the floor tonight in anticipation of you crawling in.

Boundless bouncing

Some days I get tired just looking at you. You have been jumping for four days. Sometimes you get sad and say, "Crib go?" We tell you that you are a big girl now with a big girl bed and that we took apart the crib because you slept in it for less than five hours - in your entire life. But we do have the mattress and it is a wonderful springy platform.

You jump on the bed, on your crib mattress, the mini trampoline, on the couch, you jump down each stair on your descent, you jump up the stairs holding our hands, you jump in the pool. You even "super jump" off of the kitchen counter into our arms. Sometimes we have to jump with you. Sometimes you lay on the trampoline and I jump with a foot on each side of you to bounce you. Sometimes you jump three feet forward and hit my body with blunt force.

You are all about jumping. It is how you burn all your calories and never gain weight.

Not an action shot.

Pop culture

You woke up this morning at 6:00 when Nana phoned to tell us the power had gone out. While we lounged in bed to delay the inevitable day, you reclined against your dad pointing to and naming his parts. "Arm. Sleeve. Chest. Boobies. Neck. Chin. Mouth. Eyebrow."

And the thing below Dad's eyebrow? "iPod."

Now I (almost) know my ABCs

Now I (almost) know my ABCs from Really Silly Lily and her mama on Vimeo.

In training

For lack of a better term, you have been in training to use the toilet. Maybe six or more months ago, we bought a potty and put it in the bathroom. The reaction to it was rather dismal, even violent if we suggested you use it. So, we never mentioned it but we read books about the potty and they were by far the favourites for awhile.

One day about three or four months ago you wanted to use it. You peed and I jumped up and down and clapped my hands because I was so proud. And watching me clap and jump and praise you was reserved only for those times. And you liked that part so much that you would sit on the potty and say, "Jump. Clap." Nana would have to jump and clap and Dad would have to jump and clap. The look on your face was one of such extreme pride.

It's been pretty good and only getting better, too. You probably make it about three-quarters of the time now. When you are totally distracted or just plain tired, you'll have an accident. Or like when you were playing computer games with Nana last week and you peed while sitting on her knee! Usually, you'll say, "Pee! Hurry, Mommy, hurry. Pee!" So we scoop you up, run really fast and get you there just in time. It's easier for you to know when to go when you are naked. (In reality, that's most mornings after you take off your pajamas and diaper.) I don't know why it's easier when you are without pants. And if you have a diaper, you'll pee in it without a second thought. Mysteries of life, I guess.

Fortunately (actually it's quite unfortunate) you rarely poop so we never worry about not making it to the toilet in time for that. And that's a whole other story... One I probably won't tell.

I always sing that awful Pull-ups song from the commercials, "I'm a big kid now!" Oddly enough, it's beginning to be true.

Tidbits

Lately you've been shunning everyone - especially Dad - in favour of mom and only mom. A couple examples:

"Say hi to daddy." You respond with, "Hi Mommy."
"Can Daddy have a kiss?" "Kiss Mommy!"
"Do you want to play choo choos with Daddy?" "Play with Mommy!"

And my favourite from the other day after work... You were chillin' on the couch with mommy when dad came from the kitchen where he was making supper and sat beside us. You gave him an angry kick and screeched, "No – go make noodles, Dad!" Put him in his place.

Last weekend I was cleaning out your closet when I found this size 2 snowsuit - fits perfect with lots of wiggle room. It made me happy that we don't have to buy one this year. You, on the other hand, were absolutely crushed that there was no snow - even though it is nearing the end of summer. Soon enough, kiddo.

Sometimes you try and feed us whatever it is that you're not really eating. You reached an offering across the table at your dad and said slyly, "Come on, dad." Quite the coaxing; you should be a little salesperson.

***

This morning we threw some peanuts out for the two squirrels that had ran across the power line and down into our yard. Later we were eating peanuts in bed (while Dad painted the bedroom the third different colour in a week). Since you liked peanuts, I was trying to make the connection between those and peanut butter. I said, "I like peanut butter on bread and toast." You said, "Me, too, Mom." Though you didn't mean it and I couldn't get you to accept the offer of a pb&j sandwich, it was one of the first times you said 'me' instead of 'Yaya'.

***

You have been fairly obsessed with Canada flags, which you pronounce Can-a-day flags. You see them everywhere. On licence plates, on houses, on stores, on books. The cutest are the "tiny baby Canaday flags" which only need to be smaller than you.

A flair for technology and language

You love the picture of yourself talking on the phone in the masthead. You point it out everytime you turn on the computer, which is often. You probably spend more time on the computer than your dad does at home. And you probably know how to use it better than Nana. Every morning you climb up onto the computer chair and turn on the computer, ready to start your day. You just need to work on your mouse(y) skills.

This morning you and your dad were perusing YouTube, as the two of you do alot. This is currently your favourite video. Makes you smile everytime. And how catchy is that song!



While you were watching another video, you quite deliberately turned down the volume two notches. Your dad keeps it loud because he must be losing his hearing at the old age of 29.

You are also obsessed with all the movies of yourself that we post on Vimeo. The other day we went wayyy back to when you were 13 months old. You could say daddy way before you ever said mama. You also love to watch yourself sing and oh, the horsey ride in Calgary.

Speaking of horsey, you have been adding "y" (or "ie") to the end of everything. It's kind of cute how you have developed your own flair for language, but it really throws us sometimes. Like when you hold up a stick and call it a sticky. And how we live in a housey. "Yaya's housey." Kissy and huggy. What do you want to eat? Icey. Nana has become Nanny - which she'll even answer to.

Tonight we were sitting in the sandbox when you found a sticky...a stick. You stuck it into the hole of a crab squeaky toy and started singing, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to mom." It surprised us that you could devise this all on your own. But then again, you can also say complex things like pygmy marmoset. I supposed you'll never cease to amaze...

Always close to my heart

If someone had asked me the year before I got pregnant with you if I would breastfeed, my answer would undoubtably have been, "No, I don't want a baby hanging off my boob, thank you very much." Things change.

In the weeks after you were born, feeding you was one of the most excruciating experiences I'd ever had. Maybe I wasn't prepared enough. But it hurt so bad everytime you latched on. Almost as painful as hearing you scream because I couldn't feed you enough in the five days it took my milk to come in. And you wanted to be fed all the time. At least every couple of hours - days and night. Probably more, but I couldn't fathom it in my sleep-deprived mind.

But we got the hang of it, having to try less and less to get positioned properly. I never even thought to give up, always assuming it would get better. After about three or four weeks, my boobs weren't quite as sore - they even stopped bleeding. It felt wonderful and satisfying to be your sole source of nourishment. Just like all mama mammals feed their babies.

You slept with us at night so I didn't have to constantly haul my tired body out of bed. (And because you screamed when you were more than a foot away.) I remember the first time I fell asleep nursing you in the middle of the night. I woke up with a jolt; you were passed out beside me all peaceful and sweet. The next day I rushed to the Internet to find out if it was okay to fall asleep while nursing - it wasn't in any of the books! Poor, delusional new mom... Thankfully I wasn't the only one so my guilt slowly subsided and we could go through most nights with me barely waking up. Or not remember waking up to feed you. We were both happy with the arrangement.

And you grew. And grew and grew. You had these delicious, chubby thighs that I could not get enough of. (When we took you to get immunized at six months, the public health nurse was very impressed with your abundant leg and arm rolls - you know, for a 'breast-fed' baby.) We had a nice routine of nursing and playing and napping. Oh, the napping. And squirting your dad in the eye with milk.

When we started seeing the pediatrician-referred feeding specialists when you were 11 months old to address your lack of weight gain, I remember them asking me what I planned to feed you milk-wise when I returned to work, and suggested getting you on 3%. I was floored - not having thought about it. Not wanting to. Not wanting to go back to work. And then thinking about it and not being able to imagine separating you from my milk, the only thing you took when you had stopped eating everything else. So I ignored it - kinda. Actually we just went along as we always had when I went back to work. And that worked for us. You nursed in the morning, when we came home for lunch, after work and at bedtime. And little by little, you started eating more and gaining a little more weight. (Now you're a giant, kinda - 23 lbs. and 33.5" tall.)

Until recently I had the idea that nursing past a year was uncommon - and weird. Just for hippies. This one-year time limit to breastfeed must coincide with the year long maternity leave we get in Canada. Do you think it was the same when the leave was only six months? That nursing past then was odd? Sometimes I need a little reassurance that we are normal, so I scour the Internet for 'facts' that suit my situation. Fortunately I don't have to look far as both Health Canada and the World Health Organization both recommend nursing to the age of two, and after that for as long as mutually desired. (Do I sound like a public service announcement?)

Sometimes when I look at you, I can see that little tiny baby you used to be. From the day you were born, your demeanor has always been the same. You want what you want when you want it. NOW. Whether you were two days old, two months old or twenty-two months old, you are happiest in my arms suckling away. I've struggled to justify your needs and your happiness versus my hang-ups about society's acceptance of nursing a toddler. Some days I decide that this HAS TO STOP. The next day I decide that I can hang on a little longer. It really keeps you as my baby - and without a new baby on the horizon, this arrangement works right now. (Baby polar bears are weaned when they are two and a half so the mommy polar bear can regain her fertility and have another baby polar bear. Hint, hint.) It is also the best way to diffuse a tantrum, cure a bad mood or knock you out for a nap - in three minutes flat. It's like magic.

Of course, you really drive me crazy when you are sick (which is often) or having an attachment relapse and want to nurse ALL THE TIME, but I suck it up and think about how happy it makes you. And what a nice opportunity to reconnect when I come home from work. There are much worse things than laying around with you, your warm little body cuddled up against me as we watch t.v. or I tell you stories. Who could say no to a face like this?

In case you'd been wondering...

The food you've eaten in the last few days includes:

Doritos while you watched the Curious George movie,

margarine from your fingertip that sat atop a piece of tortilla and also got smeared into your other hand and onto your cheek (and my pants),

a cherry tomato from the garden that you squirreled away in your cheek until you bit it and then promptly spit it on the lawn,

and tonight for supper, parmesan cheese - sans the lonely noodle I divided and placed on your plate and on your fork in hopes that you might eat it. Uh, no.

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

Your favourite song is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. By a long shot. Here you are with your adorable little voice singing all by yourself and doing a pretty good job at it, too! Even with a mouthful of Crispix...



Twinkle Twinkle - Aug.25.07 from Really Silly Lily and her mama and Vimeo.

Difficult

You turned two and I think it is more than mere coincidence that you are suddenly now terrible. This morning was the worst. Every second Wednesday is cleaning day so we have to pack you up and take you to Nana's house. Once every two weeks. Only one time in 14 days. But this morning you would have none of it. None. You've been doing this thing where you scream bloody murder if we try to place you in your car seat. Even if we get the top buckle done up, you squirm around until you have actually hung yourself and we have to pull you up so you stop choking. It's that nice.

You started doing this in Calgary when you were 2 years + 2 days old. It took us over 45 minutes to get you calm enough to buckle you in and go. We just didn't haven't that time this morning as both your dad and I needed to get to work. So, we canceled the cleaners and called Nana to haul herself over as soon as she could. And you still cried. You layed in my lap on the couch and whimpered. When Nana showed up, I told you I had to go work which brought on more tears while you shook your head. Until I said, "Do you and Nana want to play playdough?" And your mood perked up, and you got excited and after I got the playdough, you said, "Bye bye, mommy." And you were apparently really good for the rest of the day. If I'd only thought of bribing you with playdough earlier...

Another way you've been using your new two-ness is by telling us what to do. If your dad and I are having a conversation, you'll pipe up, wag your finger and say, "No, no, no, daddy! Stop talking mommy." Or if dad asks for a kiss, you say, "No. Kiss mommy." It's really quite adorable watching you assert yourself.

And something I just noticed the other day after spotting it in our holiday photos is that you have a sweet little beauty spot right in the middle of your right cheek. It's cute - as is the rest of you.

A Week in Pictures

We, especially you, had a great time at the folk fest. Of course Creeson was there and there were a bunch of other kids to keep you busy and practicing your social skills.

Your birthday party was good just because you were impressed with getting all of the attention shined solely on you. We opened presents, ordered in pizza and had cake with Nana, Nigel and Jessica. Short and sweet and left us enough time to pack.

On Monday, Aug. 13 we left for on the first leg of our first real family road trip. Here are you and your dad on the side of the highway where we stopped for a diaper change and pee break.

We made it to Medicine Hat and spent the afternoon at Echo Dale regional park. I spent a lot of summer time out there with Dan when we were in college, mostly during drawing class. You enjoyed the petting farm.

On Tuesday, we got into Calgary, hit IKEA to buy you a tent and a train set and Dad caught a little nap before we went to Dan and Chad's for supper.

Here's you, me and Dan. We had supper and drinks and you played with their kitty, Mikka. She was a fiesty little thing. You had lots of fun and were quite independent considering you'd never been to their house before.

On Wednesday, we met Dan for brunch before heading out to Banff for the day. You've been talking about mountains so much, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to go with it being only an hour away. It was beautiful - even though the main street was dug up and that made the sidewalks a little hectic.

Still in Banff. The best picture of the whole trip in my opinion.

To cushion the blow of the endless shopping we seemed to do, you got to ride the merry-go-round at Chinook Centre. Twice. The second time after you ate a good lunch because we told you "the lady" said you had to eat lots if you wanted to ride the horsies again.

IKEA. Where we spent most of our time in Calgary. It wouldn't have been so hard on you had you not come down with THE WORST COLD IN THE UNIVERSE on Thursday. Lots of frozen yogurt cones and hot dogs. Right up your alley.

The hot tub in Medicine Hat. We got back there on Friday. By then you'd had it. You wouldn't even get in your car seat so we had to walk to a restaurant for supper. You'd been in so many restaurants that you even asked the server for your own booster seat. Again, you ate lots so that we could swim all night. You are such a super swimmer and so independent; jumping in by yourself and swimming away from us. You'd think those were magical water wings.

The long stretch home. We couldn't get you buckled in after we stopped for won ton soup in Swift Current. Playing with my glasses while dad put on a puppet show seemed to help. You were (and are) so happy to be home.

Happy Birthday "Two" You!

Tomorrow is your second birthday but since we are leaving in the morning for a little vacation, we are having a quick birthday party today. Not that you don't have enough to celebrate these days...

Last weekend Grandma and Grandpa came to help us finish painting the outside of the house (something we started three years ago) and to help build you a play structure. Mission accomplished! The back of the house matches the front and you have something to keep you busy while we weed or water or if you are just too naked to leave the yard. Grandma did a great job of keeping you busy so it was like a little holiday for me, too! And they brought you presents from them and Ryan, Jared and Leslie. You scored a Little People house complete with a family and Fluffy the Cat™. A doctor's bag with all the tools to keep us up and running. (You especially like checking our heart and blood pressure.) The Little People airplane with pilot and passengers. And a little baby that you like to make sit in the laundry baskets. To top off the fun times, we went for supper to East Side Mario's one night, to the lake to feed the geese and ducks and probably best of all, you, me and Grandma picked up ice cream to finish off the long weekend on Monday night.

After Grandma and Grandpa left on Tuesday, I got to spend the week with you. And Skye. We had quite the time our first day. You fell asleep just after 11 and only slept for forty minutes, but you were in good spirits so we went shopping, coming home just before 4:00 to crawl into bed and nap until Dad came home to wake us. It was just like the winter I was home with you - a year and a half ago I guess. You still had a 4:00 nap, your third of the day, and most days your dad would come home to find us still snoozing. That's the life. So we had a good week shopping with Nana, going to the library, playing on Lily's park.

Dad had Friday off so we went for breakfast and got lumber so Dad could finish the roof and sides of your tower. We napped while he worked. That night was cool so we finally dragged out our bikes and went for a bike ride. It's been so hot and muggy all summer that we spend more time at the pool than exploring the neighbourhood. It's just nice to switch it up. You rode well in your bike trailer, placated by candy bribes near the end. One thing I am really enjoying about you as you get older is your ability to sit nice in your stroller, carseat and bike trailer while we go places. Since you were about ten months old, you would howl and try to lunge out of everything so you could walk or run or just be in Mommy's arms. Now it's pretty cute when you try to pry your carseat straps off while saying, "I stuck. I stuck!" You also say that when Dad holds you or hugs you against your will - which is fairly often.

And yesterday was Folk Fest. The day we went anyway. I've been telling you about it for a couple days. You were very excited as your buddy Creeson would be there. ("Creeson. Hold hands, hug and kiss.) And it turned out to be as good and better than you anticipated. We got there right at 6 but it was already so busy. We found a place off to the side where we spread out our big blanket and kept our eyes peeled for Creeson and his mommy and daddy. In the meantime, there was this sweet little girl who was trying to impress us with her cartwheels. It worked with you in a big way and you quickly latched onto her. So much so that at one point you disappeared, following her and her mom down to the stage to dance. Her dad had to tap me on the shoulder and tell me that you wanted to go dancing. So we went up and the band was Mother Mother. I have been gushing about them for months and have been so excited to finally see them so we danced and I took some video. (You and I even met them afterwards at the merchandise tent where they were signing autographs. We told them a little story about seeing their poster at a presentation at my conference in Atlanta. And we took their picture because I think one day they could be borderline mainstream...) Anyway, it was so wonderful to see you in this huge crowd of people as you danced and ran and squealed with delight. You would occasionally check to see where I was, maybe giving my a leg squeeze. But you were free and just sucked in that freedom.

Eventually we found Jamie and Creeson and Mike so we brought them over to our blanket. Creeson was so pleased to see you and you were his main motivator for coming like he was yours. Apparently he talks about Yee Yee (Lily) quite a bit these days after they came over last Friday morning for coffee. So after sharing some mini donuts with him while you got reacquainted, you were all over that little boy hugging and kissing and stroking his cheek with the back of your hand. Well, that was when you weren't placing your hands on his neck in a kind of strangling action. With Mike and Jamie settled in, we found out that they knew the little girl's daddy so we officially met her; Avery wasn't much taller than you but she was 5 so there's lots of hope for your height. While Creeson got his bearings and stood fairly still, you ran wildly on the grass by the fence with Avery, her big brother and a little boy with red hair who was also sitting nearby. I couldn't believe how independent you could be, rarely checking to see where we were. When you wandered too close to the mud, I came to tell you to stay out of there. Avery took your hand, looked up at me and told me she would look after you. That made my job easier. Soon Creeson warmed up and the three of you ate Cheezies and orange popcorn in between boughts of trying to push the tree over, exploring the ashtrays and running just under every passerbys feet.

As the night went on, Avery had to stick closer to her parents so it was just you and Creeson. You were both just goofy. Creeson was maniacal and when he touched something or ran into the mud, you would chase him, shaking your finger and saying, "No, no, no, Creeson. Don't touch. Careful." Ah, Lily - the voice of reason... Almost sounds like how Mommy natters at Daddy. Anyway, you both stayed on that high until we finally packed everything up, wrapped you in a blanket and took you home - at almost 11:30 p.m.! Late night for all of us.

*UPDATE*
We had your birthday party so here's a movie of you and your butterfly cake. You were very impressed that it was covered in Smarties! I took lots of pictures of you today. I will have to post a bunch from the last few days and from our holiday sometime after we're back to our old routine.


Happy Birthday TWO you! from lily and mama and Vimeo.

Absolutely delightful.

You are so yummy. Just a wonderful person to be around these days. You not only talk, but you also make decisions. Last night after supper I asked you, "What do you want to do tonight?" Without hesitation you said, "Play choo choos." Easy enough, so we went to Chapters to play with the Thomas the Train set. It's where all the pre-schoolers congregate.

Another thing I find absolutely adorable is when I ask you a 'why' question, your answer is always the same. "Why can't grandma push you on the swing while mom gets some coffee?" Your response: "'Cuz."

Anyway, I'll try and think of more of the darndest things you say but until then, here you are in all your giggling glory.



Gonna get you with kisses! from lily and mama and Vimeo.

Famous!

Lily - you are famous! I was reading ParentDish.com like I do everyday to keep up on parent-type news, scrolling down perusing the articles and there you were! How exciting! I had uploaded the shots from Colleen's wedding last weekend and sent that one to the ParentDish site's Flickr pool. I never thought it would get chosen as hundreds of photos are uploaded daily. Very cool. Or as you would say - awesome!

Unachieved goals

Self-portrait. Lily Julia Anderson. July 20, 2007. 23 months old.

Well, apparently I am never going to have time to post an Atlanta story. I did start writing it, but alas, it will never finish. I am burnt out from the crazy, busy madness at work, from the scorching heat and unbelievable humidity, and from sitting in the house in front of the computer. It's just not going to happen and I need to move on to other things...like thinking about the 18 days I will not be at work in August. Think about your upcoming birthday. Think about going to the folk fest. About the garden. Important summer things.

You insisted that you couldn't leave the house without your sunglasses and purse. Just like mommy - which you call me now instead of mama.

But I have uploaded a bunch of pictures to the Flickr site. At least the rest of the Atlanta ones including the fun times at the Olympic Park fountains and the Children's museum. (And some of my conference photos.) I suppose the pictures will tell the story so check 'em out here.

And before I go plop down on the couch with a magazine, I have to say how wonderful and smart and dramatic you are becoming. You are a girl who knows what she wants and loves to tell us all about it. You know words and concepts I thought would escape a 23 month old girl. Last night Dad asked you to say the letter "W" and you said double-ya-ya. Ya-ya is how you say Lily (because those L's are pretty tricky). Get it? Double-you. You is Lily. You have also gotten pretty sweet on Dada so he's enjoying that. And we just enjoy you more and more everyday. Especially when we come home from work and you are in the window jumping madly up and down and waving your arms with excitement to see us. Pretty terrific.

Sing me a song

The plan was for you and me to go to Wal-Mart after supper to get big girl panties while dad stayed home and mowed the lawn and tidied the yard. For some reason, you were being extremely uncooperative, having taken off your diaper and refusing to put one back on. Not to mention the fact you hadn't even had pants on AT ALL today. You were cranky and started kicking Skye. I took your arm, asked you to look at me, then I told you very firmly that you do not hurt the puppy. You squirmed away from me, climbed onto the stool, hung your legs over the edge and started kicking the dog. I told you no - mommy was not going to play with you anymore. So I went upstairs.

Nana is much more patient with you than I am - especially after an awfully busy week at work. So she brought you upstairs. Kicking and screaming. I tried to ignore you while I read the Prairie Dog, but you sat right on the paper. Seeing that I was still annoyed, you stood beside me, started playing the piano and singing, "Mommeee, mom, mama, mommey, mom, mom, mom."

I asked, grinning, "Did you play that song for me?" Uh huh, you said and played it again to melt my icy heart. It worked.

Where do the days go?

I can't believe that it's after ten at night and I haven't accomplished anything around here today. You only fell asleep at 9:40 tonight because we went to Wascana Lake to feed the geese and ducks and went for a walk to get a slurpee afterwards. Usually we get in just one activity after supper before you need to have a bath and get ready for bed. I figured since you and nana had a three hour nap, we could push it a little today.

We are having a tough time getting anything/everything done. Your dad stayed home sick for a couple days this week and finished some painting he started before you were born! Yikes. The garden is full of weeds. The counter is lined with dirty dishes. I have no clean clothes. But with us working all day, all we want to do is come home and hang out with you. That's the good stuff.

Can we hire someone to do the laundry? 'Cause all we wanna do is have fun.

Pat-a-cake

Your dad was reciting pat-a-cake to you the other night. "And put it in the oven for Lily and me!" And you immediately added, "And mama!" Thanks for not letting me miss out on cake. I will definitely share with you the next time I make cake, too.

Calendar girl

When the opportunity presented itself, how could I not use your sweet smiling face in our 2008 calendar? I originally just had a generic little girl swinging, but she needed a bit more personality. And we had just recently gotten a few great shots of your real smile - not your perfectly calculated posing smile. Just darling you are...

Here's the picture your head is from.


And this is the end result - well just the promo piece, but you come complete with a t-shirt that says "I *heart* mama." So true. Click on the image to view it larger.


And there are some new pictures on Flickr from our Atlanta trip. The ones from the Georgia Aquarium are really nice. I think there will be over 100 altogehter, so as I resize them and colour-correct them I will be putting them up so check 'em out.

Adventures in the urban jungle

We got back from Atlanta late Saturday night. Since then we've gotten a few groceries, your Dad has been cleaning the house and I've been planning for a party we are throwing on Saturday to celebrate Michele and Brad's upcoming nuptuals. And you, my good little traveller, have been getting your fill of playing outside and going to the park. And talking in sentences now! Maybe next week I can put up some pictures and tell some stories about our trip. I haven't forgotten anything yet...

Eat!

In the past couple months we have stopped buying and feeding you jarred toddler (baby) food. While yes, you are almost two, that has only ever been the one thing you would eat fairly consistently for lunch and supper. But one cannot sustain on runny Chicken Cacciatore and Country Turkey Stew and Beef, Pasta & Vegetables. Or maybe one can. Since this decision to try and incorporate real food into your diet, you have consumed less because we seemingly aren't offering you palatable choices. What you have been doing is practicing your chewing skills - handy since you have all your teeth. You will take my beef, chicken or pork skewer or maybe a chicken breast into your hands and bite off a big piece. Then you will chew and chew and chew and chew a little more before spitting it out because you extracted all the flavour of it... I don't expect many calories are packed into the flavours of food.

Ever since you were seven or eight months old, I would cut your food up into very small, managable pieces, also leaving you a large piece to grab onto and bite from. Apparently, this also caused it to be inedible. It would be automatically shunned and you were content to go without. And when you went for a whole piece of something, it would get smushed or thrown but rarely nibbled. I even give you things you can dip but you end up saying "draw" and "drawing" ketchup circles on your plate - or (*cringe*) on the table.

There are things you do eat. Sometimes. Like potatoes with butter and sour cream. Actually, you have only been eating the sour cream lately. Or handfuls of simulated bacon bits. You eat meatballs. If they are frozen and usually not more than one. And frozen perogies because for some reason when they are cooked and topped with yummy sour cream it's just not the same. You eat the chocolate or peanut butter chips out of the oatmeal cookies I bake - and only the chips. You manage to spit out the tiniest piece of cookie if it's touching your chip. You do like to eat the cookie dough and you like pancake batter (and maple syrup) but not pancakes. You almost always take exactly one bite of my tortilla everyday at lunch. Last weekend you were cuckoo for cherry tomatoes, that being the only thing you ate all day except three Teddy Grahams. (Oh, and ice. Always ice.)

We don't really eat processed food but lately I've succumbed because like any mother, I want you to grow big and thrive. I want your belly to hold up your pants (so we can get you out of the too-short 12 month size). So we bought you Top Dog wieners and Beefaroni and vacuum-sealed mac n' cheese for toddlers and Pizza Pops with hopes of great success. We achieved moderate success in a hit-and-miss sort of way. Sometimes you like Pizza Pops and more often than not you like wieners. (Like for breakfast this morning. Eaten while in the shower.) Sometimes it's scrambled eggs for breakfast, sometimes a few mouthfuls of Rice Krispies with bananas.

Usually you, like adults, are influenced by what you see in books or on t.v. One morning last week you woke up at your regular "5 a.m. eyes wide open" time, so we turned on Elmo's World in our bedroom to engage you while we slept a while longer. One of the episodes was about food and the featured video had the kids all eating pizza. "Peetz. Peetz," you requested. So to your delight your dad got you some frozen mini pizza (just how you like it). While I woke up in horror to see cheese, pepperoni and bits of crust all over the bed and me, you did eat most of it. Or when you watch Go Diego Go and they talk about jaguars eating meat, you request "meat, meat, meat." Everything is just more effective when said three times. (Bed, bed, bed! Boob, boob, boob!)

I've relaxed quite a bit in regards to your eating habits. If you don't eat something from the list or plate of offerings, it's fine. Maybe next time. Or maybe not. You've made it this far. When we got you immunized a couple weeks ago, the public health nurse made multiple suggestions to get the most calories into you...as though we haven't tried everything. As though we don't see the pediatrician every three months to keep a close eye on your growth. As though that feeding therapy wasn't completely useless. Last week we had ice cream for supper. Of all the days - you only had a couple bites. But at least we realize now, all we can do is offer.

Open dyer eyes

You woke up so happily at 5:59 a.m. and said, "Mom?" I said "yes, sweetheart?" "Open dyer eyes," you said as you pryed open my eyes with your sharp fingernails. Dad's eyes needed prying open, too. Except we couldn't actually get them to open until closer to 6:30.

We had a full day. Starting at 8, we went for groceries, perused the Catherdral Village Arts Festival, you and Dad had a nap, and we went to the circus. We usually don't pack so much activity into one day. Here are some pictures from the circus. You were more into the pumping music than the action going on inside the ring. Your dad thinks you dance better than he and I combined - and he's right. You were grooving.

A pleasant day with a pleasant girl

Today was such a contrast to the past few nights. Today we all woke up at 7:00 instead of 6. You had a little bit of Cheerios and a little bit of Rice Krispies. You put your diaper and clothes on without the least bit of resistance. Your dad and I rushed to get ready so that we could make it to your immunization appointment for 8:10. The actual needles caused you very little grief. Well, at the time and for a couple seconds after you screamed like...well, I'll mention what you screamed like in a minute. You were so concerned about getting back to the waiting room and its fabulous toys, you got your band-aids on and quickly dressed without fuss. Toys, you just kept saying. And I must admit, they did have some pretty great toys for you to play with during the 15 minutes we waited for any adverse reactions.

To "treat" you after taking you to get needles in each arm and one of your legs, I took you to Chapters to play with their huge Thomas the Train set; your dad went to work. You'd been talking about choo-choos all morning. There was a weird man and his daughter who joined us at the train set. I'd easily overhead him talking to an employee. "Hi, my name is Blah Blah Blah. I'm a poet who has just published a book. It retails for $16.95..." His daughter was at least three inches shorter than you, my tenth percentile girl, so I assumed she was much younger but once he sat down he was constantly quizzing her. What colour is that? Say chopper. Bring me the blue train. Bring my the orange train. What does the train say? Thanks for the red stop sign. It was really annoying. If we did that to you, you would tune us out and never participate in any conversations with us. Turned out the little girl was a year and a half so you might not be the shortest girl in your class...


Our next stop (after picking up a new Elmo book called Sleep Tight) was to the little garden centre in the Mac's parking lot. You thought it was great running into the covered area and then calling me as though I were lost. Until someone got between you and me and you froze, panicked that you may not be able to get to me without someone picking you up and keeping us separated. (Dad tortures you like that so maybe your fears are vaild...) Once you made it back to safety, clinging to my leg, you actually ended up helping the lady water the flowers because hey, it was wonderful, wonderful water. This gave me time to snag up a some packs of annuals and a couple lovely grasses for our pots.


By the time we got home, you were wiped so you went to bed after the neighbour girl dropped off a dolly stroller and a toy wheelbarrow for you. Just over an hour later you woke up so I went and crawled into your bed with you. You were just dozing back off when I went to move your legs closer. You bolted awake and began whimpering. Owwie, those needle pokes were apparently sore so I gave you Advil and by then there was no chance for going back to sleep. We checked messages and Nigel had called so we called him back and he came over. By the time he arrived we were outside potting flowers. You showed him everything in the yard while I finished up. Well, while I tried finishing up. I think you thought I might ditch you with Uncle Nigel because I ran inside a couple times and became very clingy, needing "Up. Pleassse."

Nigel had gone home so I thought it would be a great opportunity to go for a bike ride. I went to get the bike and trailer out of the garage but it didn't fit through the door. So I tried to open the big garage door but half a palette of bricks were sitting in front of it. A little irritated, we decided to go for a walk. About two blocks away we hit a garage sale with tonnes of brand name girl clothes and some great toys. Of course, I had no money and no way to carry you and a bunch of stuff so we went home to get the stroller. You haven't been in the stroller for ages. The last few times we tried to put you in there you screamed and convulsed until we granted your command to be free. I feared trying it at first but remembered I've wised up a lot since last year - I decided that I am not above bribing my child with candy! I gave you a sucker, put on your bib, got some wipes in a little sandwich bag and we were on our way. We got some great deals. All the clothes were a dollar, including three fleece Gap sleepers in awesome shape. The highlight for you was probably a little battery-powered choo-choo that we got in a bag with a track, another car and two more little toys for a buck.

We didn't get home until after 4:30 so you ate supper and Dad came home - to no supper and no prospects of supper. So we went to Dairy Queen. You nibbled a hot dog and fries, gulped your milk and ate most of the ice cream on your cone. And you were fairly well behaved, staying between your dad and I until you couldn't stand it anymore so you then stood a foot from our table on the floor dancing and singing and being impressed with all the people. At one point, you were reaching way up to put your fry on the top of the booth so I asked how big you were. You said, "Two," and the woman at the next table commented how big you were. Little fibber. But I guess you only know to say one when you want "just one" and you hold up one finger.

After picking up some movies, we went home. Dad mowed the lawn - finally - and I bathed you. You washed all your body parts, your eyes, cheeks, chin, nose, neck, ears, arms, elbows, wrists, hands, chest, tummy, legs, knees, ankles, feet, and toes. You played a bit longer, then got out, put on your jammies and diaper again without a fight. I said we'd read just one book - your new Sleep Tight one - and after that, you were out within a few minutes. It was a really pleasant day. Really pleasant. You have never been so consistently calm and cooperative. I wish I knew what was so special so I could duplicate it!


I really appreciate calm after the past few nights scream festival we've been having. You've been waking up early and often and screaming from your gut in between smashing your head into the wall, the bedrail, your dad's head. You began sleeping in a big girl bed about two weeks ago. I bought you some flashy Elmo sheets and a Dora pillowcase. The transition from our room in our bed to your room in your bed was rather seamless. You've been coming into our room at either 1:30 or 4:20, your normal wake-up times for the last 21 months and that's fine. But for three days in a row, you'd throw a fit for almost an hour between four and five and drive everyone nuts. There was no consoling you. You were livid. Violent. Dad would try and pick you up to comfort you so you'd go wild, screaming "MAMA" and reaching out for me. When he'd let you go, you would cuddle up to me for a couple minutes, catching your breath from crying before starting all over again. Needless to say, today was a really nice change of pace.

Alone time

I have been a total slacker at posting both photos (of you) and stories. And throughout the summer it's not going to get better. Our brand new, beautiful, giant patio got finished last Tuesday after a rain/flooding delay. Now that that's done, we can actually do other things like plant shrubs and perennials and put out our solar lights and replace the holey carpet on the back steps. Oh, we should finally paint the back of the house...three years later. And so that you are not so bored, you recently got a basketball net to shoot hoops. Well, maybe just put the ball into the basket and then clap with pride. We did buy a play structure kit; we just need some time to put it together. Hopefully by the end of June...? Then a gate so you can't escape. It never ends, you know.

It was Nana's birthday on Friday. We are having a barbeque party at her house tonight so last night you, me and dad made a wonderfully rich chocolate cake. You love cooking, but with baking you can taste more and cake batter tasting is probably the best. By the end of your stirring (mostly to get more batter onto your spoon and into your mouth), you were covered. You picked up a box for recycling off the floor, placed an errant chocolate chip into it, said bye-bye and went downstairs. Okay, that's fine. You turned on the t.v. and the lamps and continued to amuse yourself for the next 15 minutes. Every few minutes I would see you pushing Pooh Bear in your shopping cart and call down and ask how you were. Good, you'd reply. Then - big mistake, I went to see you and clean some of the cake batter off of you. Apparently you didn't want any of it and a tantrum ensued. So I left. And you were happy again. About ten minutes later, your dad and I came down after cleaning the kitchen and having a drink without baby backwash. You were happy to see us. So that we could get you candy. And help you climb on tall things. We watched Shrek 2 and you loved Puss in Boots. You just needed to spend a little time away from us. (I know the feeling...)

It's the long weekend. Actually longer for your dad. He was home Friday and won't go back to work until Wednesday. Come to think of it, he got sick and was home last Monday, Tuesday and half of Wednesday. Maybe it's him you're tired of...

Mama?

I have always wanted a baby who would like me the best. By a long shot. Way more than everyone else. It happened and it's pretty terrific. And tiring because child, you really like me. When your dad chases you, you scream "Mama, Mama!" and run towards me and latch onto my leg for dear life. When I take more than three steps away from you, you call my name in a panicky voice. You call for me when I'm in the shower, when I go to the bathroom, when I'm trying to sneak out the door to go to work. When you see a mommy kitty (or a female pair of hands or a face in a magazine), you point at it, then lovingly say "Mama," and pat me gently on the chest. When I was carrying you back to the van from the far end of the mall yesterday, I gave you a squeeze and told you how sweet you were so you leaned in and kissed me on the lips.


I am so lucky to be your mama.

Mean streak

We have been busy. It's just too nice outside to stay home and update this site. Not that there isn't anything to say. Most notably, you've got a mean streak. While playing "kitty" you've taken to scratching like a kitty. Our faces. And neck. Nana has a huge gash on her neck from your fingernails that you won't let me cut. Meowch! But you are your most vicious when you have to come in the house from outside - or come home from the park. If only we could live out there, huh?


And you talk. And talk and talk. I take it. I go. I slide. Please, please, please. Sit. Book. Elmo. Cookie. Ernie. Big Bird. Ice. Please. I run. Hi, Skye (Sigh). Cah cah (candy). I climb. Park. Wah wah (water). Mo.

And you water the trees and set the table so you are very helpful. When you want to be.

And you have lots of hair.


And you have a great smile.