Superman? Batman? Wonderwoman????

Nope, daddy.

Jellybean was engaging in some dramatic play the other night. (read: dressing up in WILD tutus, jewelry, and a hotpink cape with a lemon yellow lightening bolt on it)

She was running around chanting "hero, hero, hero..."

I asked her who her hero was.

Without breaking stride she yelled out "DADDY!"

That's my girl.

Now, go ask for that pony. Quick, before the endorphins wear off...

What's mine is yours?

Jellybean is a trip. At 13.5 months I think she weighs 18, maybe 18.5 pounds. But she doesn't know she's small. She thinks she's MIGHTY.

And, recently, she got her very first time- out. Yup, she got in trouble, BIG trouble.

Because she smacked her big sister in the face...on purpose.

Jellybean's pretty mellow about sharing. Monkey takes her books, her toys, even her food...and she's pretty OK with that.

But the other morning, Monkey tried to get on daddy's lap at the same time (M was reading to Jellybean). And that, that? That was NOT OK with Jellybean.

So, being a pre-verbal, 13 month old, she did what she could to demonstrate her displeasure with sharing her daddy: she smacked her sister in the face.

For a long time, I've thought that I would need to protect Jellybean from Monkey, especially with Monkey's liberal interpretation of "sharing" (which is to mean that everything that's Monkey's is Monkey's....and everything that's Jellybeans is ALSO Monkey's....).

Maybe it's the other way around.

Twinkle Toes

Monkey has been bugging me to paint her toes for a while.

So, last Monday night I painted her toes. A bright iridescent reddish pink. Just like mommy! (You Rock-apulco Red! by Opi, if you must know...)

She was grinning, ear to ear, like I've never seen her grin before. You'd have thought I just handed her the keys to heaven....or daddy's heart. Daddy, by the way, groaned and claimed he'd gotten older, just watching his baby girl morph into a teenager before his eyes......

Turns out that Tuesday at school, when they went to the playground to frolic in the sprinklers, she wouldn't get in. This, from the girl who usually LEADS the charge into the sprinklers! Plus that day it got into the 90s and was super hot and muggy.

But no. She told Jenna, her beloved teacher, that she "didn't want to get her toes dirty." Apparently it took over 30 minutes to break down her resolve!

Grandma Larson is going to bond with Monkey on our coming vacation. She, too, LOVES to have pretty toes.

So apparently she's like her daddy

So the new Yankee stadium is wonderful. Wide, open spaces. Bathrooms not right ON TOP of the beer lines. Really, a pleasant space to enjoy a game! We had seats in the shade, with a beautiful view of the field. And it was great weather. It was a perfect day to take in a game with my little girl.

Too bad Jellybean and I saw exactly 1.5 at bats. Yeah, you read that correctly. 1.5……and then we were done.

Jellybean was great on the subway. She was charming in my lap. She was happy to sit and wonder at the crowd…..until it roared with appreciation at a great play. When the crowd got loud, and the PA system blared, she looked shocked, her lip started trembling, and then she started to cry. No, she started to scream. By the time I was able to walk up to the concourse in search of a quieter spot she looked like JackJack, from The Incredibles, when his face turned bright red and he burst into flames. SCREAMING.

A screaming baby at Yankee Stadium? NO FUN.

A screaming baby at Yankee Stadium when a Yankees Official notices and ushers you into a private elevator so you can sit in a luxurious leather couch in a cool, superbly air conditioned lounge for the private Suite ticketholders? SCORE!!!

Eventually she calmed down. So we tried again. And……….no. Nope. Noparino. No way, man. And plain old HELL NO. She was not happy.

We went home.

I guess she likes the Brewers like her daddy.

Father(s) of the year

Hoo boy. This weekend was awesome. Here we were thinking it was going to rain and be gross all weekend long, forcing us to listen to incessant whining about watching (yet another) Arthur cartoon, or the Astroboy movie trailer for the googoleth time (because you know that googol is actually a word, right? It’s a 1 with 100 zeros after it…don’t believe me? Google it! Ha)….but then??? We had AWESOME weather!

Not surprisingly, we went to the park. Often more than once a day!

And we played in the sandbox(es). Good times.

That is, until Monkey picked up and fondled a piece of dog crap. Ok, fondled might be too strong of a word. But it was ALL over her hands. Oy. I know it was dog crap because, well, the smell. You KNOW that smell. The smell that hits you and stays with you, following you down the block, forcing you to check and recheck the bottom of your shoes, until finally it is replaced by a different smell. But you still check your shoes one more time, just because….the smell. It kind of burns into your nose and lingers there, unwanted, uninvited, uninhibited….ugh.

We cleaned her off as best we could, with wipes and hand sanitizer (thank you purell gods!) and headed home to really wash up. M, in his infinite capacity to be a good dad, hoisted Monkey up on his shoulders and gave her a ride home.

Halfway home, in a rather strangled sounding voice, M asked Monkey to stop playing with his hair. And, you know, to stop sticking her (poopy) fingers into his ears. I tried not to visibly shudder or audibly laugh. I tried SOOO hard. But when M announced that he needed to shower? I had to laugh. (and shudder).

He SO wins father of the year for that.

Also up for honorable mention? My little brother, who called me this morning to say that he still had vomit in his pants pockets after an unpleasant visit to the pediatrician with his insane toddler, HP. Squish, squish. He, too, was headed home for a shower.

Let’s hear it for the dads!!!!

If we had a porch, he'd be on it with a shotgun

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. The single most over-rated Hallmark "holiday" on the calendar. A day that people (mostly women, bien sur) beat themselves up over. And some men (cough cough M) dislike the coercion.....being forced to be romantic on a given day seems false, and therefore is annoying. I don't disagree.

But I confess, I do like the Valentine Day cards. The funny and endearing ones are the best. Even better is the heartfelt sentiment inside (penned by M, not the card company....).

And the reason I like it? Simple. It is nice to have someone pay attention to you and tell you that they think you are special.

Monkey is learning this lesson quite early in life.

She came home from school today with a Valentine's Day card from a boy. Ari gave it to her. I think this is adorable.

Of course, then I realized that Ari is a pre-schooler, an "older" boy at school. He isn't even in Monkey's classroom! That means he's sweet on her from time spent together on the playground at the park, or in the gym at school.

I can't wait to tell M when he gets home. But I'm thinking that maybe I should leave out the older part.

Raw

These days my emotions are a little bit closer to the surface than usual. I noticed this after Monkey was born, too. No, not post partum or even the baby blues - my skin is just a little bit thinner than usual. I feel more sadness AND joy.

I find it harder to watch news about sick kids or lost puppies. When I"m nursing Jellybean often I'll catch a few minutes of daytime tv....and if the show has a lost, sick or dead child - I can NOT watch it. It makes me too sad. I remember after Monkey was born I was taking one of my first walks with her around the neighborhood, and when I walked past the homeless guy that "resides" on a nearby corner...I cried. All I could think was that he was someone's baby, too - someone's baby was sleeping on the street, dirty and hungry.

Some of it has to do with being tired from lack of sleep, But it is more than that. It is way more than that. It is about being close to the miracle of life. Watching my infant daughter breathe, in and out, in and out, makes my heart swell with love and wonderment. Listening to the joy in my insane toddler's voice when she yells "daddy's home!" and grins ear to ear makes me grateful to be alive.

When I was pregnant with Monkey, my father kept talking about the "miracle of life." I kind of wrote that off as something people say. And, truth be told, I was suffering from a bad attitude because I really don't like to be pregnant.

But the thing is? My dad was right. It really is a miracle.

Sleep, blessed sleep

So after taunting the gods, M was a little bit tired last night.

So tired that the first thing he said to me this morning was "I am SO SORRY I didn't get up with you last night. I was just....asleep."

The "I was just...asleep" part is what cracks me up. So eloquent. So true. So....damn obvious last night as he was snoring to high heaven! (we're lucky we still have paint on the walls....)

Dude, knock on wood next time!

My Ollie Cat

Ollie, our beloved geriatric cat (even when she misbehaves, she's still loved) has always been "my" cat.

M likes to joke that she wants to kill him off, so that she can have his side of the bed. And, admittedly - when he's out of town? Ollie sleeps on his side of the bed, purring away and thrilled at the complete access to me. She'd sleep ON me, but this whole "sleep on your left side or kill your unborn child schtick" makes it hard to perch on me. And yes, I'm REALLY looking forward to sleeping on my back again.

Sunday we took Ollie into the vet for her annual physical, shots and teeth-cleaning. Monkey came with us, since her frighteningly high fever of the day before (104.8 and boy is that spooky - her pediatrician had to assure me that her brain was not cooking in its own juices) was down to a reasonable 99-100 or so. She got a little clingy/whiney so I brought her into the examination room with me while Ollie got the sedative shot so she could get her teeth cleaned. (what, you think that otherwise she'd willingly LET them clean her teeth? um yeah, she's old, not docile!)

Monkey seemed ok with this, but when we left to get lunch at a local diner (to return an hour later to retrieve Ollie), she was bereft. She was crying over and over for "my Ollie cat" and saying "I want my kitty cat."

M and I looked at each other and smiled. Our hearts were simultaneously breaking and expanding with joy. Monkey loves Ollie! We never knew just how attached she was to Ollie until right then.

Ollie is no longer "my" cat. She belongs to Monkey.

Treat her well my daughter. Give her lots of love and affection. Comb and pet her beautiful fur gently. Feed her treats.

And remember, when you wave the cat dancer toy, try not to bean her on the head with the stick each time....or "your" cat might just bite you. With love, of course!

The four horses of the apocalypse

I could hear their hoofs drumming down the hallway last night. You know, between the hours of 2am and 4:30am when Monkey was WIDE AWAKE and throwing a tantrum instead of self-soothing and going back to bed.

Either that, or it was my pulse throbbing behind my eyeballs as I was simultaneously exasperated, sympathetic, generally pissed off AND exhausted. Sure sounded like horses to me....

Of course, true to form she woke up in a spectacular mood. Charming, cheerful, happy to see us, and a complete and utter pleasure to be around. She even begged for an extra goodbye kiss from her Daddy.


Shoot, just as I was planning on selling her to the gypsies....

Must....get....sleep

So, the whole Big Girl Bed experiment continues.

Sleep has become a hit or miss experience recently....

We have had some success.

We've had some failures.

Today started at 3:30am. Monkey woke up. Got worked up. Begged for Mommy. Begged for Daddy. Whined for bread and jam. Whinged for the DVD "Ice Age." Devolved into the most spectacular tantrum I've ever seen her throw. And then ended up sleeping, blissfully, in my lap, from 5:15am to 6:45am.

M did not sleep. I slept a wee bit, when she was in my lap. As much as I could considering I had 50 lbs of baby pressing down on my (full) bladder. I'm sure Jellybean appreciated the company but DUDE WE ARE SO F'ING TIRED NOW.........

So tired, in fact, that this morning M managed to put on a black belt and brown shoes. I know, I know.........the world stopped spinning and went backwards there for a moment. He would NEVER do that in real life.

Hmm, wow - where to start

Yikes. So much to post in a few short days!

1) Monkey is not a fan of daylight savings and insists on waking up at 5:30am. Oy.

2) Monkey is a rock star (and, she'll actually say that to you - it's freakin' hilarious!) and moved into the Big Girl Bed in the Big Girl Room (capitalization on purpose!). The crib and nursery are no longer in use. Except to hold the boxes of stuff that belong to Jellybean.

3) Now that Monkey is in the Big Girl Bed, naps are a wee bit unstructured. (Oh, I know this because her school was closed on Election Day for parent-teacher conferences). And by unstructured I mean that I was in there with her for - hmmmm - oh AN HOUR AND A HALF convincing her to be quiet. Because the ability to gather MORE BOOKS was damn-near frying her brain from the excitement. Exhaustion finally over took her and she fell asleep with 17 books in her Bed with her. I know this because I counted them. And, while this is so ridiculous it is sublime, I confess that I kind of find it adorable. I love books that much, too. What can I say, she's my kid!

4) And, on the topic of being my kid.....I am no longer numero uno in her world. Daddy is. She's hurt? She asks for daddy. She's mad at me? She asks for daddy. She wakes up cranky (see #1, above) and needs a little love before the day starts? Yup, she wants her daddy. And every time she pushes me away and yowls for daddy? My heart melts a little bit. My time away in Denver really re-uppped their bond. And to quote Martha, "it's a good thing."

5) Now, to quote my beloved little brother? "Nicely done America!" I am proud to say that I am still wearing my Obama '08 button. I don't know that I want to take it off. And if you want to know why M and I got no sleep election night? Check out this link - between the students cheering, the media heliocopters filming the celebration in Harlem, and the impromptu parade down our block at 12:30am, we got no sleep. And it was worth it!

Back in the saddle again

I am proud to report that Monkey missed me a little bit while I was gone, but only a little.

When I came home on Sunday night, she was thrilled to see me. But really, she was mostly thrilled to show me the pumpkin she carved with Daddy and Cousin Heather on Saturday night. She kept asking to turn the lights off, so we could look at the pumpkin (with its candle lit). "Oooh, spooky" was what I taught her to say.

It is really nice to be home.

More later. Including photos of my niece HP and stories about my time in Colorado!

Tongue twister

Recently, Monkey has taken to saying "thank you SOOOO much" which pretty much cracks us up. It's something about how she emphasizes SOOOO - it doesn't look funny on paper (or blog) but trust me, it is adorable. I don't know if she got it from me, from M, or from school, but I like it. No reason not to be extra polite, right?

Now, being only a whopping 27 months old, sometimes she mixes up her sentences. So last night, when she said goodnight to daddy, I'm pretty sure she meant to say "I love you too..."

Instead? She said "I love you TOO much."

Snort. Right back atcha kiddo.

Watch your language!

We all know this is the way it works, but sometimes it still startles me to hear Monkey repeat things we've said.

Lately she's been getting lots of rides on Daddy's shoulders. It is a way for them to have fun, and quite honestly we often get places faster that way (always a bonus with an inquisitive toddler whose favorite things are rocks! and questions about "what's that?".....both of which delay delay delay any efforts to walk. Anywhere. At any speed. Sigh.)

Since there always seems to be scaffolding up, often Monkey will be on Daddy's shoulders as we go underneath. At which point in time M will say "watch your head!" to tell her to duck.

I didn't think anything of it, until this morning on the way to school. I was pushing Monkey in her stroller, and just as we walked under some scaffolding she piped up and said "watch your head!" I started laughing. I mean, the scaffolding is at least 10 feet up above us....but still, got to watch your head!

Which is my reminder to myself....watch my language! So when that cabbie runs a red light and swerves at us (oh yes, that ALSO happened this morning and boy was I pissed) I need to not cuss. Eek.

Baseball Mania

Monkey is a baseball fan. It's official. And she is SO her daddy's daughter, it is amazing.

Saturday we drove down to Philadelphia and took in a Phillies Brewers game. Yes, M is a devout Brewers fan, what can I say (except go Yankees!). We met one of Matt's good friends and his wife and 10 year old son at the game. They live in Baltimore, so we both split the difference and met in the middle.

Monkey not only enjoyed herself, but we made it through 9 innings with her! She adores the Phillie's mascot, the Phanatic, asking where the "monster" was and laughing with delight when they showed the mascot on the big screen.

There was even a cool kids playground with slides and playground equipment. We would have stayed longer but they had to close it down after some kid puked down the circular slide. Eeeuw.

We sent Monkey to school this morning wearing her Phillie's "tattoo" (of the mascot, of course) and she was showing it off to her teacher when I left.

Now, if I could only talk M into getting Yankee's season tickets......

She's his, all right

So occasionally I blog about how Monkey is like me. You know, likes being the center of attention, social, loves books, yadda yadda.

Well last night? She was daddy's little girl.

At one point she started asking (ok, whining) that she wanted to watch something on TV. M and I couldn't figure it out at first............but she wanted to watch baseball! My beloved Yankees weren't on, so we watched the Mets. And Monkey was seriously into it.

Then, M offered Monkey some edamame.......and she loved it. So much that M had to share the rest of his dinner with her! The two of them were eating edamame as fast as he could get the soybeans shucked. Soon, it'll be an edamame throwdown...you know, see who can eat more. Not that he would (*cough cough*) actually do that.

Vignettes from our life

While at the New York Aquarium we saw a baby walrus. And it was HUGE. Yup, even bigger than little ole preggo-me. snort. Seriously - that thing was an adorable mass of blubber. Monkey, however, ignored the walrus in favor of the coin-swirling thing-a-ma-bobber...you know, you put the coin in at the top, it rolls around and around the cone, and you donate that coin to the aquarium. Of COURSE that's what she loved. Monkey headed straight for it and started begging for quarters.

So, we did what any reasonable parent would do. We told her to ask GrandDad.

**

Our fridge died last Friday night. As in hopelessly unable to keep anything cool, food in ruin and rotting. After a scramble and a superintendant who annoyed me (yet still saved the day) we ended up with a second fridge in our apartment - because the door to the kitchen is too narrow unless you remove the door from its hinges, which have been painted over with, I'm guessing, 15-20 coats of paint. I feel like Sanford & Sons....we have a fridge in our kitchen, empty save for a few crumbs, and a fridge in our dining room, full of our food. And, since the old fridge decided that after 3 days it would partially freeze water for ice cubes, the super decided to call a repair tech to try and fix it. No end in sight folks, no end in sight.

Maybe I can get a beat up old dishwasher in our dining room, too. You know, to work with our junk-shop decor. Sigh.

**

I made dinner with what hadn't spoiled the other night. And, since the frozen fish had thawed, I made orange roughy for dinner! Monkey declined to eat any of it, until Daddy pointed out that Mumble (aka Happy Feet) ate fish! Lo and behold.....she ate all of it.

M is a miracle worker.

Staycation

Right now I am on my 3rd hour of staycation. That's right people, I'm on vacation in my very own kitchen. With my feet up. Ignoring my husband and father-in-law who are either watching sports or a sports movie on cable. Drinking a beer...yum. Well, as yum as you get when it's a n/a beer. Sigh. All I have to say is someday, babygirlcarter#2 is going to get an earfull about how she better live up to her potential, dammit, because if I wanted her to be a slacker I'd have drank REAL beer while knocked up.

I'm on vacation (ahem, staycation) until Monday, September 8th. For something like the third or fourth time in my entire life I'm taking a whole week off. And since the Montessori daycare is closed yet another week (argh, stupid freaking closings!) I will be 100% in charge of the Monkey.

We have a grand week planned:
*Monday, possible brunch with a girlfriend (mine, not hers).
*Tuesday we're going to the Bronx Zoo with Hudson and his moms (Hudson is one of her pals from school).
*Wednesday is a free day....to be determined.
*Thursday we get to go to school and meet her new teachers!
*Friday I'm parking the kid with a sitter and getting my hair cut. What? You thought the entire week was going to be just me and the Monkey? Dude, I haven't gotten my hair cut in 4 months. I know I'm pregnant and all, but there's letting yourself go and then there's letting yourself go. But if you want to think better of me, it's scheduled during nap time. So she'll miss me less.

Ice Cream

So does anyone know how to get a photo off of your phone and into email/a computer/this blog?

Because I just got the cutest snapshot of Monkey snarfing ice cream on my phone!

She went to the Aquarium (out by Coney Island - quite an adventure) with Daddy and GrandDad today.

And, apparently, GrandDad FINALLY got his wish. He got to eat ice cream with Monkey.