Flowers

When Monkey was born, and I started to walk the city streets (rather than run, or at the very least stride along QUICKly....), one of the things I always pointed out to her were the beautiful flowers and plants we would pass. It is part of our routine on our commute. And now part of Jellybean's commute, too.

Yes, I know, I live in an urban jungle. I'm surrounded by asphalt and cement, and my kid (so far only Monkey) knows how to hail a cab as well as she can breath. (seriously, she just knows: it's the same way she knows how to carry a purse or match up her pink clothing - she just does.)

But this urban jungle is covered with beauty. There is a wild, overgrown rose garden by a building that used to be part of the Croton Resevoir Aqueduct just a few blocks away. The roses reach out through the wrought iron fence, inticing us to stop and smell their fragrance.

There are thousands of small plots of land, little well-tended (or not) gardens around the trees planted in every sidewalk we follow. Some have fences. Some have flowers. Some are elevated. Some are blank slates, waiting to be filled.

And even though I have repeated my mantra that flowers and plants are for everyone to enjoy by looking, smelling, or gently! touching - sometimes she just can't help herself and she plucks a flower. Usually claiming it is "for daddy" which is so endearing it almost breaks my heart. And then she sways with happiness as she carries this fragile blossom, this treasure, down the street.

Yesterday she plucked a flower out of flower box we walk past every day on the way home from school. When I admonished her that flowers are not for picking, she told me that she wants to visit Grandma and garden in her backyard. I think that's a brilliant plan.

Karma

Otherwise known as, payback's a bitch.......

BFF

Monkey has made some amazing friends at school. Bonds that are profound, complex, and important. I've written about these friendships before. But I think this photo? It says it all.

Jaws

Every day I get a report from Jellybean's teachers about her day at school. You know, because she can't quite muster up the language to tell me she hated what I packed for her lunch, and ugh - can you believe it? They made us dance the hokey pokey again! I am SO over that song. I want Lady Gaga.

All joking aside, I do enjoy hearing what she did during the day. I miss her during those hours, and learning what songs she sang, or books she read - that knowledge makes me happy!

For years I've been thinking I should scan in one of the reports, so it can be preserved for posterity. I'm not going to keep every single one - but just one, one would be good.

This one made me laugh. Because of the sentence (which I underlined) about the book they are reading. I gave them that book. And we have another copy at home.

You know, so "Jaws" gets the same message over and over again.

What makes me laugh, however, isn't the book itself. It's how unflinchingly chipper the message is! Your child is biting but HEY WE'RE READING A GREAT BOOK!

Her teachers rock.

Cold Turkey

Sadly, I had another (two in one day!) conference with Jellybean's teacher at school yesterday. When I picked her up at the end of the day, I learned that she bit another classmate. Body count is at 4.

So, last night was it. Yup, we've pulled the plug on the na na and are discretely tossing every pacifier into the trash. Sadly, this will come as a rude surprise to Jellybean when she goes to bed tonight.

Yes, that's right. We're going cold turkey. No na na for bedtime tonight. May g*d have mercy on our souls (and ear drums).

Body Count

So, yeah. Not sure how to start this one. But let's just say the body count is piling up at Jellybean's school.

This past weekend, M and I went to Paris to celebrate our 30th birthdays (snort, chuckle). We left both girls at home with Granddad and Nana Carter, and really enjoyed ourselves. It was wonderful.

We had never left Jellybean before. M had traveled for work, but I'd never been away from her longer than a working day. And we'd certainly never both left at the same time - at least not for longer than an evening out. So she wasn't too pleased about it.

(Sidebar: Monkey was thrilled to have Granddad and Nana watching her for the weekend, and keeps asking me when they are coming back. And could Granddad bring some more mints? And they can have pizza again? And isn't the dress that Nana gave her pretty?And do I like the swim goggles Nana gave her? And can you see why she's FINE when we leave?)

In addition to wandering around the apartment looking for us (oh, so sad!), Jellybean also went on a food strike, popped a fever, broke out in a viral rash, and generally was off her game this past weekend. Which meant that she used her pacifier (the "na na") a lot.

And, since her Montessori school stopped using her na na a while back, when Jellybean got to school on Tuesday she had a rough time.

Yesterday? Well it got worse.

She bit three classmates.

The na na has to go.

No surprises here, she's still a wee one

Jellybean has been called many things. Jellybean. Bean. Barnacle. Hey You. Monkey (often when I'm frazzled - hey, at least I never called her the cat's name, right???). And last but not least, cousin H mostly calls her "midget."

Well, midget had her 18 month check up today (HOW DID SHE GET THIS OLD ALREADY??? Time is pulling a dirty trick on me) and - no surprises here - she's still tiny.

Weight:
19lbs 13oz.
Yes, that's offically beneath the 3rd percentile.

Height:
31.25in.
In the 25-50th% range.

Which is the same as she's always been. She's on track, just on HER track. And that's all right with me.