Monkey is acquiring words with more speed now.
She has added eye, bottle, up, down, more, all done, and bubble to her repertoire.
I couldn't be prouder!
Unfortunately, she has also redoubled her use of the word "no."
When asked if she would like something (say, her favorite toy - Elmo), more likely than not she'll say "NO" and vigorously shake her head. And then stick out her hand for Elmo.
She has reached the infamous "land of no." Much like the land of the lotus-eaters, this isn't a stop you willingly make. Rather, it is a land through which you travel, praying it is a short trip and that the border guards will let you out when you get to the other side. Because every.little.thing is a battle! Let's put on your shoes...no. Let's have some lunch...no. Time for a bath....no. No, no, no, oh hell no. Sigh.
Unfortunately, as my mother happily reminds me, next up on Monkey's list of words will be "why"............and that, dear readers, will be a real pain! I can already see that one coming down the pike.....because Monkey's other single-favorite word? Yup, it is "dis" (aka "this" in toddler-speak) spoken with an inflection, often accompanied with a pointed finger, as she asks what something is, again and again and again.
Funny how after you've answered the question of "what's this?" twenty times in a row you get dumb.
That's a thing, that you know, um, does stuff.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Bring on the spoilage.......
My folks arrive tonight at 7:30pm to stay with us for Christmas. And they don't leave until late next Friday afternoon...that is ONE FULL WEEK of grandparents!
Monkey is going to be spoiled rotten! The hugs, the stories that will be read, the presents that will be unwrapped....ah, such is the life of a grandchild. ;-)
My parents haven't seen Monkey since my beloved (and much missed, really really missed) Grandmother's funeral in July, so they will be delighted at the changes.
They will also be amazed at the phenomenal temper tantrums she can pitch!
The energy, the fervor, the - oh - wait, it's already over and she's onto something else. heh.
Monkey is going to be spoiled rotten! The hugs, the stories that will be read, the presents that will be unwrapped....ah, such is the life of a grandchild. ;-)
My parents haven't seen Monkey since my beloved (and much missed, really really missed) Grandmother's funeral in July, so they will be delighted at the changes.
They will also be amazed at the phenomenal temper tantrums she can pitch!
The energy, the fervor, the - oh - wait, it's already over and she's onto something else. heh.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Wish me luck.....
Monkey woke up this morning with a dry diaper. Which is one of the signs that she is ready to start potty-training! Wow. Woohoo! She's on her way to really becoming a big girl! No more diapers!!! Only, her school has me a little wary about this process.
See, Monkey is enrolled at a wonderful daycare that follows the Montessori method. Most days, this means that her school (if we have parent-teacher conferences, I'm calling it a school, dammit!) is a daycare on steroids. And I don't mean steroids in a nasty cheating Barry Bonds and (you too??? sigh, my heroes are cheaters...) Roger Clemens way. No, what I mean by "on steroids" is that it is a place where I would LOVE to spend my time!
It has two indoor gyms and a pit full of balls and cool toys and music lessons and field trips to the park and tables and chairs that are Monkey's size....so let's just say that this place is actually worth what we pay. (and um, that's a LOT, thank-you-very-little Manhattan you price-gouger you...)
But, what this also means is that they never, EVAH, take the easy way out. If a child is throwing a tantrum because he or she can't get the lid off of a can, do they take the lid off to stop that infernal whining? Nope. They sit down, talk to the child in a reasonable and kind manner, and show her how to take the lid off by herself. Like a BIG girl.
The same mentality holds true with....dun dun duh......potty training; they.......don't........allow.............pull-ups.
The theory is that pulls-ups (like diapers) do such a great job of keeping the liquid off of the skin that it isn't uncomfortable to wear a wet pull-up for minutes, even hours! (This is how kids pee their diapers yet sleep, blissfully unaware, through the night. Thank you pampers, I love you! My undereye bags thank you!). So no pull-ups, or they never become aware of their bodily functions.
Oy.
Yup, they use "training pants" which are essentially thick cotton undies. So the kids pee their underwear, and get the icky wet sensation. Which they want to avoid...and learn to avoid by using the potty.
Ok, I get this. It makes perfect sense. Only this also means that you need to bring tons of clean clothing to school each week (since they might pee themselves, and their pants, a few times each day...). And, you have to have extra shoes on hand. So when the pee rolls down their legs and puddles in their shoes, they have something to change into.
Ugh. I am reminded, yet again, how much I luuuuuve diapers. Did I mention that I am slightly anal and don't like messes? And am maybe a bit of a germaphobe?
The idea of cleaning out a potty chair grosses me out. It is one thing to diaper a baby, with squishy mustard-poo, and then to move into stinky poop once they eat solids....but this is all nicely, and mostly neatly, handled by a diaper. That you throw out.
Soon, I'll be washing undies (and clothes, and shoes too, apparently) that are full of poop and pee. Here's hoping she gets potty-trained in record time!!
So, yeah, wish me luck!
See, Monkey is enrolled at a wonderful daycare that follows the Montessori method. Most days, this means that her school (if we have parent-teacher conferences, I'm calling it a school, dammit!) is a daycare on steroids. And I don't mean steroids in a nasty cheating Barry Bonds and (you too??? sigh, my heroes are cheaters...) Roger Clemens way. No, what I mean by "on steroids" is that it is a place where I would LOVE to spend my time!
It has two indoor gyms and a pit full of balls and cool toys and music lessons and field trips to the park and tables and chairs that are Monkey's size....so let's just say that this place is actually worth what we pay. (and um, that's a LOT, thank-you-very-little Manhattan you price-gouger you...)
But, what this also means is that they never, EVAH, take the easy way out. If a child is throwing a tantrum because he or she can't get the lid off of a can, do they take the lid off to stop that infernal whining? Nope. They sit down, talk to the child in a reasonable and kind manner, and show her how to take the lid off by herself. Like a BIG girl.
The same mentality holds true with....dun dun duh......potty training; they.......don't........allow.............pull-ups.
The theory is that pulls-ups (like diapers) do such a great job of keeping the liquid off of the skin that it isn't uncomfortable to wear a wet pull-up for minutes, even hours! (This is how kids pee their diapers yet sleep, blissfully unaware, through the night. Thank you pampers, I love you! My undereye bags thank you!). So no pull-ups, or they never become aware of their bodily functions.
Oy.
Yup, they use "training pants" which are essentially thick cotton undies. So the kids pee their underwear, and get the icky wet sensation. Which they want to avoid...and learn to avoid by using the potty.
Ok, I get this. It makes perfect sense. Only this also means that you need to bring tons of clean clothing to school each week (since they might pee themselves, and their pants, a few times each day...). And, you have to have extra shoes on hand. So when the pee rolls down their legs and puddles in their shoes, they have something to change into.
Ugh. I am reminded, yet again, how much I luuuuuve diapers. Did I mention that I am slightly anal and don't like messes? And am maybe a bit of a germaphobe?
The idea of cleaning out a potty chair grosses me out. It is one thing to diaper a baby, with squishy mustard-poo, and then to move into stinky poop once they eat solids....but this is all nicely, and mostly neatly, handled by a diaper. That you throw out.
Soon, I'll be washing undies (and clothes, and shoes too, apparently) that are full of poop and pee. Here's hoping she gets potty-trained in record time!!
So, yeah, wish me luck!
Monday, December 17, 2007
Frustration
Monkey is a full-blown toddler. She gets so frustrated that I can literally see her little brain smoldering, about to burst into flames because she is so pissed off.
This morning she was crying, and I mean BAWLING with huge tears rolling down her beautiful cheeks....because the book she wanted was wedged under the bookshelf and she couldn't figure out how to get it out.
So, I got it out for her. And she didn't want it anymore. Sigh.
This morning she was crying, and I mean BAWLING with huge tears rolling down her beautiful cheeks....because the book she wanted was wedged under the bookshelf and she couldn't figure out how to get it out.
So, I got it out for her. And she didn't want it anymore. Sigh.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Eeny, meeny, miney mo.....
So, as Christmas approaches and our mailbox swells with wonderful holiday notes from friends and family near and far....we feel guilty that we haven't even bothered to THINK about Christmas cards.
So, we think about it. We think about the time that we have (um, not much). We think about the list of friends and family we would write to (um, tons - woohoo!). We debate about which picture of Monkey we would insert/use in the card............and the whole process grinds to a halt.
Why? Well, because I have a fab-U-lous digital camera (the Canon Rebel Xti...I'm in love with it, seriously) and have a gazillion photos of Monkey on our computer. There are just too many photos! True confession - I keep even the bad photos. Yup, I keep the photos where she clearly has a huge booger dangling out of her nose...because I am that much in love with my daughter. (And besides, how else would I be able to blackmail her with when she's a teenager?)
Last night, after several nights of retiring to bed as soon as Monkey did (another bout of bronichitis, compliments of a cold I got from my daughter who, unlike me, shook it off like a lab shaking water from its glossy fur...), I decided to be productive and pick out one photo for our Christmas card.
After 45 minutes of noodling about in iPhoto, I realized that I had only gotten to the photos of Monkey at age 6 months - and she is now 16 months old! I had ten more months to go!!
Ufda.
So, I resorted to an honored tradition for making weighty decisions....I put together a short list of my favorites, and then went eeny, meeny, miney mo....
Because seriously, what else would you expect from a woman that keeps a magic eight ball on her desk at work? heh.
So, we think about it. We think about the time that we have (um, not much). We think about the list of friends and family we would write to (um, tons - woohoo!). We debate about which picture of Monkey we would insert/use in the card............and the whole process grinds to a halt.
Why? Well, because I have a fab-U-lous digital camera (the Canon Rebel Xti...I'm in love with it, seriously) and have a gazillion photos of Monkey on our computer. There are just too many photos! True confession - I keep even the bad photos. Yup, I keep the photos where she clearly has a huge booger dangling out of her nose...because I am that much in love with my daughter. (And besides, how else would I be able to blackmail her with when she's a teenager?)
Last night, after several nights of retiring to bed as soon as Monkey did (another bout of bronichitis, compliments of a cold I got from my daughter who, unlike me, shook it off like a lab shaking water from its glossy fur...), I decided to be productive and pick out one photo for our Christmas card.
After 45 minutes of noodling about in iPhoto, I realized that I had only gotten to the photos of Monkey at age 6 months - and she is now 16 months old! I had ten more months to go!!
Ufda.
So, I resorted to an honored tradition for making weighty decisions....I put together a short list of my favorites, and then went eeny, meeny, miney mo....
Because seriously, what else would you expect from a woman that keeps a magic eight ball on her desk at work? heh.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Cleanliness is next to Godliness....right?
We are desperately trying to get Monkey to not chuck her food on the floor at every single snack and meal.
To this end, to teach her that her actions have consequences, she is supposed to “help” clean up when she does throw her food.
So......what does she do when it is time to pick up the cheerios??? She stomps, precisely, intentionally….and with visible pleasure, on each and every single g*ddamn cheerio, reducing it to dust. Motes of cheerio-dust waft through the air and deposit in a thin layer, all over everything (including me, dad, and our beleaguered cat Ollie).
If cleanliness is next to godliness, we're raising a heathen.
To this end, to teach her that her actions have consequences, she is supposed to “help” clean up when she does throw her food.
So......what does she do when it is time to pick up the cheerios??? She stomps, precisely, intentionally….and with visible pleasure, on each and every single g*ddamn cheerio, reducing it to dust. Motes of cheerio-dust waft through the air and deposit in a thin layer, all over everything (including me, dad, and our beleaguered cat Ollie).
If cleanliness is next to godliness, we're raising a heathen.
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