Chatty Cathy

Jellbean is starting to talk more and more these days. I love listening to her ever-expanding vocabulary.

Yesterday she started saying "rabbit" and pointing to the ears on the rabbit in a book. It was perfectly enunciated, but since I always call it a bunny, it took me a moment to figure out what she meant. It was like my brain needed to catch up to the fact that my 20 month old was talking to me!

She's using two-word sentences, and assigning possessive terms to things - so I'm "Monkey's mommy" and our cat is "Monkey's Ollie," etc.

She loves to talk! (atta girl, that's my baby!) Combine that with her love of technology and every phone call becomes an excuse for her to show off.

Yesterday we got a spate of (wonderful!) calls from family and friends to wish Monkey a happy birthday. Monkey was being a bit of a stinker, however, and by the end of the evening she simply didn't want to talk anymore.

Jellybean? No such problem. She was chatting everyone up! She regaled Uncle N with "woof woof" and "roar" and "meow" and a variety of other animal noises. Then closed with "bye bye."

After Uncle N rang off, M actually said - out loud! - "maybe we should get her a phone"....of course meaning one that doesn't work. But really, there is NO way she'd go for that.

She's totally going to need a dataplan, dad, so she can text her friends. Like OMG, unlimited texting would be gr8!

See! They DO look alike....

Meet B, Jellybean's little cousin (the youngest daughter of my brother and his wife, G). I showed this around the office this morning, and no kidding, my assistant asked how old J was in that photo.

Tastes even bettah

Monkey is a 3 year old with VERY defined food preferences. As in, she'll eat any thing in the world, so long as it is:

rice
white bread
a hotdog bun
a hamburger bun
a frozen burrito
macaroni and cheese
grilled cheese
sliced (not whole, mind you) apples
chips
chocolate
water
and.....that's about it.

Jellybean, on the other hand, enjoys:

broccoli rabe with garlic
forest mushrooms and ricotta cheese pizza
tuna salad with onions and hot peppers
grilled green beans with salt and pepper
sloppy joes
and....
anything that has flavor!

M tells me he was a picky eater as a child. I remember begging for sushi when I got good grades in 4th grade. And asking for more wasabi.

I think that perhaps the kids take after their parents in more way than one....brown eyes and picky food = M. Blue eyes and flavorful food = me.

Let's see how long this lasts. (Jellybean might decide to eschew all flavor when she gets to be a picky 2 & 3 year old, too...only time will tell!).

Meanwhile, pass the broccoli rabe, baby!

Backseat Driver

So, we recently got a new car. New to us (it's a used car), and definitely newer than the 2001 Passat we've been driving. We loved the Passat, and got another one, but boy - the changes between the two were pretty amazing.

We don't have a key, for example. It's a strange fob thing that you shove into a slot in the dashboard and it starts the car. Lord help us if that thing runs out of its battery!

And, even though it is a used car, it's a heckuva lot newer than the old one and therefore, the clutch is very different.

So different, in fact, that I stalled the car twice the first time I drove it.

No problem, really, as we were on a side street. Only Monkey was in the car with me. The first time I restarted the car, she didn't really make too much of it.

The second time, however, she told me that she thought we needed a new car, as that one was "broken."

My cousin H likes to bring it up and tease me, reminding me that my driving so under-impressed my eldest daughter she thought I broke the car.

Keep it up H, keep it up. Smart aleck. Guess it really does run in the family......

Creative breakthrough

Monkey is a creative child. Her imagination knows no bounds, her dressing skills befits a teenager that scours the September issue of Vogue....but until recently, art hasn't been her thing.

Maybe because we haven't been doing much of it at home...or maybe, just maybe, because Monkey's a lot like both her mom and dad in that we tend to like to do the things we're good at (and not the things we aren't...). No surprises there.

But artwork (and penmanship) is something that is important, so school has really been encouraging Monkey to take chances and put pen to paper (so to speak).

Yesterday, she drew a self-portrait in charcoal, and then signed her name to it.

This is the single most amazing piece of artwork I have ever seen. And yes, I'm slightly proud of my girl.

See? MOMA watch out, Monkey's an artiste!

Feminists march on Manhattan...

As a Manhattanite, Monkey gets an almost daily dose of safety lessons for walking on the sidewalks, across busy streets, etc. This occurs both at home and at school.

Approximately a year ago, when I first started walking with Monkey to school (i.e., walking to the bus stop and not using a stroller), I started a dialogue about the "walking man" and the "red hand that means stop."

By now, Monkey has it down pat. In fact, if you start to cross before the "walk" signal has officially turned on, she'll pull you back and chastise you "no mom!" (cough, not that I've done this....ahem)

However, last week was the best. On the way to school with a very happy insane toddler, I announced "let's go, it's the walking man".....

Monkey immediately whipped around and loudly announced "No, it's the walking GIRL!"

That's my girl!

How did YOUR Monday start?

(to be sung to the tune of "Camptown Races")

Monday mornings really suck, doo dah, doo dah
Covered in poop that's just my luck, oh doo dah day
Gonna wash all day, gonna wash all night,
But my daughter's gonna poop again, eh it'll be allright....

Both 'Bean and stroller need a bath, doo dah, doo dah
My friends are really gonna laugh, oh doo dah day
Gonna laugh all night, gonna laugh all day
When I tell 'em the poopsplosion, happened as we went on our way....

Bugaboos they really are neat, doo dah, doo dah
But right now I need to wash the seat, oh doo dah day
Disassembly is a snap, I think I need a nap
I just wish it wasn't all covered in crap....

No shirt, no shoes, no service....

My beautiful niece HP turns 2 tomorrow. Happy birthday!

And, it turns out, she's an insane toddler too. Guess it runs in the family.

What, you ask, is she up to?

Well, apparently she won't let her daddy, my brother N, read to her if he doesn't have a shirt on.

She'll pat his chest and say "no" or "wrong." Hee

Odds and Ends

So my days are filled with laughter and joy these days. Yes, there are days that I am so exhausted I can't even stand myself. And M struggles with exhaustion too. But overall, I just can not believe how lucky we are to have these two perfect little girls.

The days, they run together. Sometimes I even forget to shower. But there are things that stick out in my memory and make me giggle. So here are a few of them....

Out of the mouth of babes:
I was trying to burp Jellybean. When Monkey asked me what I was doing, upon hearing my explanation she said "oh, daddy burps!" and I about fell over laughing. M looked askance as if to say, who me? Busted!

More than I needed to know:
I was giving Monkey a bath tonight. She leaned forward, grimaced a little, and let forth a sally of farts that would make any guy proud. Then, in case I missed it? She said "I farted"....Good lord, why did I ever teach her that word?

It isn't you, it's me:
I was nursing Jellybean on the couch (a loveseat, really, not too big), using the boppy pillow (which takes up a good amount of space) when Monkey walked up to me and announced "I need more space mommy".......I had a momentary flashback to at least one unfortunate breakup in my past and started laughing....Monkey was not pleased. She was trying to sit next to me and the boppy was taking up too much room.

She is SO going to Madison, WI for College:
Jellybean is a grade-A burper. I mean this girl can give any beer belching Badger a run for the money! She is SO going to my alma mater....I can just tell already. All she needs to do is learn how to shotgun a beer and she's a lock. None of this namby pamby N'Western stuff.... heh. (yes, M's alma mater...why else would I slam it? he he he )

I thought you were supposed to practice this on a pillow:
I was putting Monkey to bed the other night, and she requested something that wasn't in the room. When I returned with the desired item I found her still in bed, with a book in her hands.....and she was KISSING it! I mean, I know she loves books, but that takes the cake. Stinking cute. And hilarious. Some day she'll be kissing boys, but until then, books are her love. I remember getting threatened with grounding if I was caught reading in bed past my bedtime....so she comes by this naturally. I love it.

Off to tend to my girls. G'night all.

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!

It's a girl thing (or, are they related or what!)

The weather this fall has really spoiled us. I know, there's that lovely song about loving New York in spring....but fall here has spring beat every single time.

That is, until yesterday. When it was 40-some odd degrees out and raining sideways. Ugh. COLD!

I, of course, being of sound mind and body, have refused to break down and buy a maternity jacket. I suppose I was irrationally hoping to actually make it to 12/12 (and beyond, really, since I'm no Angelina Jolie and will still have a belly once I deliver BabyGirlCarter#2) without having to do anything other than wear layers. Under a bright red raincoat. Because that's the only thing that fits me. I know - what an image. I look like a bright red beach ball with legs. MMM, I'm bringing sexy back! (disclosure - I actually broke down and bought a jacket, recommended by my sister in law G, and am anxiously awaiting it's arrival from target.com)

However, this post isn't about my coat issues. It is about Monkey's coat issues.

See, this delusion that the warm weather would continue? Led to me not buying a new winter coat for Monkey. Poor thing.

So, we've been layering each morning to ensure she gets to school without turning into an ice block. She's just plain ole' cranky about having to put on two coats.

"Harrumph, one is enough, mom" is her attitude....and let me tell you, it is
capital A attitude! Bossy little thing.

I shared this tidbit with G, and turns out.........her insane toddler, HP, also has coat "issues" in the morning. Now, since Boulder is lovely and still warm out, this isn't an issue of preventing frostbite. Still, HP makes them go through 3 or 4 coats in the morning before she will actually put one on! "Developing a fashion sense already" is how her mother describes her.

They are so alike, it cracks me up. I forsee a lot of fun in the future, when HP and Monkey hang out. And either raid their mothers' closets for something to wear....or raid their mothers' closets so that they can roll around on the floor and say things like "I KNOW, can you believe she actually WEARS that?"

An unmitigated failure

As part of the preparation for babygirlcarter#2's immininent arrive in 8 weeks 4 days (but who's counting, really), we need to move Monkey to her big girl bed.

In her big girl room....

On the other side of the apartment.....

Without all her toys, books, and artwork on the wall that make it "her" room......

And which presently looks like the receiving bay of a goodwill or salvation army drop-off site. Replete with boxes of books, detritus, used coats, electronic odds and ends, and you know - stuff.

That sort of chaos makes me itch. Yes, because I'm anal and I love a clean and tidy apartment. It makes M itch even more, because he abhors clutter like...hmm, roaches hate Raid? It's a strong aversion, let's just leave it at that.

So, it shouldn't have surprised us that Monkey didn't like this room either. She IS our child, after all.

Still, we tried on both Saturday and Sunday to get her to take a nap in her big girl bed. In theory, she's over-the-moon excited about this option. She begs to sit on her bed, and when you ask if she's going to nap there you get an "oh YES" and vigorous head nodding.

Reality was a wee bit different. Tantrum central: crying, wailing, gnashing of teeth and throwing herself at the door. Oy.

So she slept in her crib. Even there we had to let her cry it out - she'd worked herself up so much there was no other option.

We have a lot of work to do. We need to transform the pit of hell, um the big girl room, into an actual big girl's room. Wish us luck.

So Hey! See you at the Salvation Army drop off this weekend!

Made mama whoop for joy!

Eons ago we thought the potty training might have started, but that was...um....March, and now it is October. You know, seven months ago.

Since then we've been offering Monkey the potty, talking about using the potty, and reading a book about potty training a lot. Not every single day, but often. We never forced the issue because, well, she's a pig-headed stubborn child (like both her parents) and forcing the issue would only guarantee tantrums and a flat-out refusal to cooperate. And I'd like her to be potty trained before she goes to college.

Every single time I asked Monkey if she wanted to use the potty she'd say no. Not interested, thank you.

But last night? For the first time that I recall, she actually ASKED to use the potty. So, naked (since she was about to get into the bath), she sat on the potty. And by potty, I mean the actual toilet with a little insert to make sure she doesn't fall in. She refuses to sit on the (shudder) Elmo potty chair I bought for her...and that's fine with me. We use the insert and the rest of it is now a step stool, so it works.

Well, she didn't pee. But she did ask for toilet paper and to flush the toilet. Which is something she only gets to do if she USES the potty (i.e., pees or poops). So after a few minutes of nothing happening, I took her off the potty. And she asked to sit on the potty. So, naked she sat on the potty. And asked for toilet paper and to flush the toilet. Which....oh, you get the point. We repeated this behavior for another 25 minutes or so.

And then, just when I was thinking this might be a pointless exercise and she was yanking my chain for the fun of it.....she peed in the potty! I literally whooped for joy. Man, a few years back if you would have told me that watching my daughter pee all over everything (because she kind of peed ON the insert, instead of INTO the toilet) would make me this happy I would have told you to pound sand. Seriously - like who would actually think this is a big deal? Well, fast forward to our life and honestly - it really was awesome. And I really did whoop for joy.

And then? Because we strive to fulfill all stereotypes of first-time parents who think their child walks on water? We called BOTH sets of grandparents and had Monkey tell her story. Yup. Good times, good times.

Here's hoping she does it again before another 7 months go by...........

Breakfast of champions

Lately, Monkey's breakfast of choice is.....hotdog buns. Arnold's hotdog buns, to be precise.

Yesterday they were on the counter by the toaster. So Monkey could see them and reached up to pull the bag off the counter. She's a self-service sort of gal. I.e., she has inherited her mother's extraordinary level of patience. The hotdog buns weren't there this morning, and Monkey literally crumbled to the floor in tears, unable to express her dread and sorrow that the world was ending RIGHT THAT MINUTE due to the lack of hotdog buns.

M figured out she might be looking for hotdog buns, and asked if that was what she wanted. Yes, came her whispery little reply, choking back the sobs as relief coursed through her veins. After an admonition to "use her words" and ask for hotdog buns instead of losing her shit ("one, two!" because she wants to hold something in each hand) the beloved doughy oblongs were obtained and all was well.

I feel sort of guilty letting her eat hotdog buns and grapes for breakfast. But really, how is that different than toast (and grapes) or bagels (and grapes)? Or even wheaties? It's all carbs, right?

All I can say is, thank god for vitamins!

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.

I wish she felt better about her self image

M is on a "staycation" right now. He took time off from work (finally!!) to relax, and run a bunch of errands (like getting the car fixed waaaaaay out in Brooklyn, etc.).

So, last night when Monkey and I came in the door, he was already 75% done with making dinner. Needless to say, I was thrilled. Ususally I come in the door at seven with a very hungry kid and try to get her fed while simultaneously preparing a dinner for me and Matt. So coming home to a home cooked meal is a treat for me!

I told M he was a rock star.

And Monkey, never one to shy from the limelight, immediately piped up to say...."Monkey's a rock star!"

I know, can you believe it? She's such a shrinking violet, that one! Wonder where she gets it.....

Bookworm

Monkey's new routine when we walk to and from school? Why, reading books!

Yeah, she is a bookworm like me!

Only problem? She likes the books to be read outloud...and she still can't read. (I know, I know, do you think I should be worried? ha)

So her solution? Why having ME read her books. As I push her stroller. You know, through the streets of New York.

My blankie, my water, AND.....

I have noticed a new, somewhat odd yet endearing, trait of Monkey developing over the past few weeks.

It used to be that (most nights, but not all) she would cry and fuss when we put her into her crib for bedtime. She fights bedtime SO fiercely - there are other things to do Mama! Daddy, let's read at least 10 more books! You know the drill.

But lately, she has started asking for specific items to accompany her to bed.

1.) The blankie. Natch. But this has always been so, and is nothing new to report.
2.) Her sippy cup. Ok, I get this. She got used to having it in her crib just in case she wakes up thirsty at night. I've no empirical evidence that she's ever used it this way - but it is reasonable to want it handy.
3.) And this is where it gets interesting. She wants books. And not just one, but two or three or more. I get the feeling she would take as many books as I would give her! She asks for them by name. These are specific books that she wants to have by her side as she drifts of to sleep!

And after I close the door, she flicks on the light (I've written about this before) and I swear this is true - she reads to herself, outloud! Now, what she is mumbling and what is on the page might be wholly unrelated. But still, how crazy cute is that?

I feel like I should get her a flashlight, and show her how to read under the covers like I did as a kid. Yup, this apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Grubby little toes

Monkey has a new habit, behavior pattern, or....fetish.

She's obsessed with her feet. Specifically, the lint between her toes, or any crumbs on the soles of her feet.

She LOVES to take her shoes and socks off, and tear around the apartment in her bare feet. Which means that, on occasion, and especially in the kitchen, she'll get something on the bottom of her foot.

In response she'll exclaim "oh oh," drop to the floor and bring her foot up to her face in a circus contortionist's stance to inspect her foot for the offending object. She'll even pull her toes apart to remove any wee bits of sock lint!

I'd laugh, if I didn't do the exact same thing. Minus the gymnastics...eeeeuww, get that image of our your mind.

After she pipes up with "help" and I brush the crumbs off, she'll say "all better." As if the world is spinning on its axis again. Crisis averted!

I don't know what is funnier. The fact that I do the same thing...or that her misery is self-inflicted. After all, she IS the one who dumped an entire container of couscous on the floor the other night.