Just a few musings to record things the girls are saying these days:
We’ve been watching The Wizard of Oz lately, and by talking about the good witch and the bad witch, discovered that Daphne says witch with a B instead of a W. It’s too cute, do I really have to correct her?
Daddy is out of town for a few days and Mimi is very worried about who is going to do the dishes and clean the kitchen while he’s gone. Can’t decide if this is an overall win or fail on my part…
Twice today while talking to me, Mimi has paused and said “Do we need to have this conversation again?”
Despite having her own little chair, Miri prefers sitting in boxes wherever she can.
Population millions, but since you are a toddler, no one else exists in your world.
Just a little egocentric humor there for you! Miri has been studying the Toddler Handbook, and has just gotten to the chapter about transitioning to one nap a day. Although I think she skipped ahead a bit, because instead of “transitioning” she just went ahead and dropped that morning nap like a hot potato. For months, she napped like clockwork: About two hours after waking up, she would have her bottle and drift off to sleep with nary a peep, sleeping for up to two hours. But suddenly two days ago she decided to rage against the morning nap: she took her bottle,(with heavy eyelids), and I put her down in her crib. She played a bit and babbled to herself, then got annoyed and started crying, stood up, threw all the binkies and all the lovies out of the crib, then carried onso me more. No amount of binky replacement, more bottle, or more rocking could convince her to sleep. So now I’ve been putting her down at noon, after an early lunch, and she goes down easily then snoozes for a couple of hours. Morning naps are for babies, apparently, and this 13-month-old is not that kind of baby. This is all fine with me except that now I have to rethink my entire world view (yet again). Well, maybe not my world view per se, but my daily routine at the very least.
In honor of embracing her toddlerhood, today Miri had her first Cheerios. They were a huge hit.
She really does have her own bed, but this one is so much cozier.
I’ve recently discovered that if I abandon Facebook for 48 hours over the weekend, I am generally happier, less ragey-against-stupid, and I probably pay more attention to my family. I’m not sure what irritates me more: people’s ignorant comments or my husband’s attempts to censor me (to be fair, he is probably justified in trying to stop me from spewing snarky diatribes all over FB). For example, this morning, I was poised to eloquently request that Christians stop playing the convenient Victim Card they love to flash in lieu of true humanitarianism…perhaps my wording would have been a tad harsher. Ah well. I did delete FB from my phone, though not before I changed my profile pic to the Arabic letter alif for atheist. I now realize it should have been a kah for kafir but I didn’t want to offend my Muslim friends.
In other FB rants, sunshine, unicorn dust and extra water will not clean your poopy cloth diapers, crunchy mamas. Bleach and detergent are your friends. Your baby’s bum will thank me.
Chronophage, by M. G. Churchill
Zara’s mind has been re-wired to do away with sleep, a requirement for piloting mankind’s first interstellar star ship. Her new brain is not without side-effects, however. Between consciousness and a semi-lucid state called ‘drift-diving,’ reality splinters. Amnesia and déjà vu become one, hours and days deleted. But Zara’s memories are classified, and she is told she no longer has a ‘need to know.’ After a mysterious agent propositions her for secrets in exchange for information about her missing father, a tempted Zara dismisses the notion. However when her flight status is unexpectedly revoked, dismay and resentment quickly changes her attitude.,, because this was not supposed to be the end. Prophetic visions of floating jungles and sentient insects haunt her. An alien terminus? So real, it must be fate. Zara soon sets out into the byzantine world of Lacus Somniorum, the Moon’s clandestine Lake of Dreams in search of answers, not only about her past, but also her improbable future.
Read it, then go to Amazon and review it! My personal review doesn’t really count since I’m not unbiased. I didn’t write it, but I’m fond enough of the author that I married him.
You’re too little this year to understand holidays, let alone make a make card or buy Daddy a tie, so I’m going to let you in a little secret: You got pretty lucky in the Daddy department. I thought becoming your mom was the best thing ever, but to be honest one of the very best things about having you is getting to watch your Dad become your Daddy. You’ll have moments as you grow up, when you might think that he’s unfair because you can’t stay up late to watch TV, or he’s mean because you have to do your chores, or even heartless because he doesn’t approve or your latest crush. But through all that, always remember that this guy loves you more than anything in the world, you are the most important thing in his world, and he will do anything for you. He loves you to the moon and back, and you bring him more happiness everyday than anything else, even his scotch collection.
On the day you were born, the first person you saw when you opened your eyes was your Daddy. He never left your side when they took you to the nursery to be weighed, then he helped give you your first bath. He got up every time you did at night in those first weeks and months, if only to help change your diaper. He misses you all day when he’s at work and we always talk about what kind of little girl you’re going to be, and all the things he wants to do with you as you get bigger. Whenever we take you anywhere, he wants to carry you or push the stroller because he’s so proud of you. This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship that will last forever, and I’m so excited to stand on the sidelines and watch it develop. My words are inadequate to explain how much Daddy loves you, so here are some of my favorite pictures from the last ten months. Warning: photo bomb ahead!
A few small steps…
(Sorry I couldn’t embed the video in the post, you’ll have click above to go to Flickr)
Here is yet another example where we are quickly learning that what may have worked for our 12-pound dachshunds is not going to work for parenting our human child. Note to self: need a better baby-gate.
And no, I refuse to acknowledge that this girl is walking because when that happens, we are all in trouble.