Bittersweet

Monkey attended her first slumber party last Friday night. It was a birthday party for one of her best friends.

Monkey arrived at the party with her toothbrush & toothpaste, her blankie, her lovie "Softie", her moon nightlight, pajamas and a clean pair of clothing. And of course a birthday present for her dear friend.

She left with a spring in her step and I left with a wrinkle in my brow, worrying that she'd be OK. See, she'd never slept over at someone else's house before without us - not even a grandparents house. Plus that night M and I were up in Rye at his company's holiday party - a good 45-60 minute drive away. You know, in case she needed us and wanted to go home.

We called to say goodnight. And my brave girl did exactly what I want her to do. She broke my heart.

I said hello and in a voice brimming with pride she said "Hi mom, I don't miss you AT ALL!"

That's my girl.

Sometimes, money CAN buy you happiness

Jellybean is precocious in the manner of all second children (or any number other than first!). She watches her big sister and imitates her.

She imitates her reading. She imitates her silly voice. She imitates her dancing. She imitates her mad toothbrushing skillz..... and, she imitates her using the potty.

In fact, the other night we put her on the potty, and she actually peed in it! I'm not sure who was more startled - her, or me!

Now, as a resident of Manhattan that isn't wildly wealthy (or wildly underwater on a jumbo mortgage), we have limited living space. Our bathroom, shared by 4 humans and a geriatric cat, gives new meaning to the concept of family closeness. We simply don't have much extra space.

When Monkey was potty training, I bought her a special Elmo potty training seat. Which she thought was cool (in theory), but I hated. HATED.

See, this g*dam&n potty seat was HUGE. It took up half of the available space on the floor of our bathroom. And worse yet? When you touched Elmo's hand? He'd cackle, and say something congratulatory like "way to go" in that highpitched voice of his (shudder).

Then, when we were visiting Grandma and 'Andpa, we saw...THE potty seat. The BEST potty seat - ever. The kid part is hidden (held by a magnet) in the lid of the regular seat. No extra stuff in the way. No creepy voice in the middle of the night when your foot brushes Elmo's hand, causing you to leap 3 feet into the air.

And do you know that it cost about $30? That 30 dollars really made a vast improvement in our life.  Sometimes, just sometimes, money really can buy you happiness.

Four!

Yesterday Monkey had her 4 year checkup. And, unlike last year, this year she opted to actually participate in the vision and hearing tests! (she passed)

Her weight and height have her in the 35% and 50-75% ranges, as she has been consistently since birth. She put on around 5 pounds this past year, and grew almost 4 inches....all of which happened, I swear, in the last two months! Matter of fact, I bought her shoes in June and she was in 8.5T.....last week (after she got REALLY grumpy about putting her shoes on) I brought her to the shoe store and she's now wearing 10s. Oops!

And, despite some early morning tears when I told her teachers I'd be picking her up early to go to the doctor's office, Monkey was fiercely brave and didn't cry one bit when she got her shots! (she's very proud of this, and reminded me several times of this feat!)

Here she is, fiercely rockin' the bandaids....

Baseball

A few weekends ago, M won the office raffle and got his company's tickets to see the Yankees. I took Monkey with me.

We had a blast. It was wonderful, sunny and warm - OK hot. We slathered on sunscreen and went on our way with sufficient UVA/UVB protection. Did I mention it was hot out? Apparently our cheeks got so red and flushed from the heat that strangers were taking pity on our nordic skin, and offering up sunblock to us, unbidden. (and who ever said New Yorkers didn't care? all together now, awwwwww.......)

Two seasons ago we took Monkey to see the Phillies play, and she became a fan (of the Phunatic, their mascot) - when they went on to win the Championship, M groused about how it wasn't fair that in her first year of fandom, her team won. He's a fan of the Milwaukee Brewers, so you can imagine why he's bitter.

The last thing that M said as we headed out the door was "Do not convert her to a Yankees fan!".........and I didn't try. Really, I didn't.

But when someone asked Monkey how the game was? She said she loved it. And that she loved the Yankees! What can I say? She's my kid.

The September Issue

When Monkey was little, I dressed her to the nines. Her outfit would match, including coordinated hair ribbons, socks and shoes.

Each day, I'd comb out her hair and put it into delicious pigtails. And she'd let me! She'd sit still long enough that I could get a straight part, adjust the ribbons, etc.

Now?

Not only does she NOT let me pick out her clothing or do her hair, she often throws a fit when I suggest that she wear - nay, even TRY - something on that she didn't select.

I have already written about her contempt for the color green. What I haven't written about is the battle royale that occurred last week.

Last week, the weather shifted from unusually cold to unusually warm. And I was caught unprepared to dress my children for school. Monkey's down-filled puffer jacket was way too hot to wear. So, we layered - threw a fleece on under a raincoat. The only problem was that this was a NEW raincoat, and Monkey didn't like it. Oh, the drama. The crying and whining and proclamations of "I don't like you; you're not my friend ANYMORE"...it was the pits.

So, I went to Baby Gap the very next day, eschewing lunch so I could shop for my beloved daughter, and I bought a cute pink windbreaker/spring jacket. I was proud of myself! (You realize that shopping, unless it is online, is limited to what I can do in ten minutes at lunch....(places like Duane Reed, CVS, and thaaaaaat's about it!) .....I have no other time to run errands in this vast city, so getting to the Gap was a coup for me! but I digress....)

The next morning I unveiled the fabulous FANTASTIC pink jacket. And it was worse that the day before.

It was an episode of Under The Table And Screaming (apologies to Dave Matthews...). When I finally got Monkey calmed down again, and the tears and shaking and shuddering had ceased....I asked her why she didn't like the jacket.

She told me that it was pink.

But you love pink, I exclaimed.

She looked at me like I'd pulled a kafkaesque metamorphosis into a giant turdball, rolled her eyes, and said "NO mommy. It's DARK pink."

****

Meanwhile, I was grateful that at least with Jellybean, she doesn't fight with me about her clothing since she's only 15 months old! Yeah, famous last words.

She threw a temper tantrum that very same morning, because she wanted to wear a different jacket than the one I'd picked out for her.

******

Part of me wants to know where in g*d's green earth these two get this from. After all, I don't think I'd looked at an issue of Vogue until I moved to NYC!

The other part of me? Is proud. My little (stubborn stinkers of) girls are going to do just fine.

My foody

Jellybean continues to be an adventurous eater. Which is great!

Only, now I have to make twice as many brussel sprouts.....the stinker eats my share!

You win some, you lose some....

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.

All I want for Christmas is my Two Front Teeth, my Two Front Teeth....

So. Can we talk about Jellybean’s tushie for a minute here? I know, I know, just WAAAY too much sharing going on here. But really – let’s talk.

For the past two or more weeks, this kid has been teething. Not “kind of” teething. Not teething “a little bit.” But HARDCORE teething that drives her so mad with itchiness and sore gums she’s repeatedly:

1) chewed on my collarbone (um, ow);

2) thrown her head back in the air and bared her gums as if airing them out would magically make the itchiness go away (imagine a lion roaring and you’re close to the image you should have – it would be impressive if it wasn’t so funny);

3) gnawed on her pacifier, her toys, her clothing, her fingers, the palm of her hand, my hair, my clothing, my fingers, the spoon……anything that can be shoved into her maw; and

4) wait for it………had constant awful teething diarrhea.

Yup, diarrhea. Ruin your clothing diarrhea. Make a mess on the crib-sheets diarrhea. Wake you up at night diarrhea. Wake mom and dad up at night diarrhea (ok, maybe just mom). And…..give you diaper rash so bad diarrhea that poor Jellybean is now on her SECOND kind of prescription butt-cream.

Ow.

For the record, she’s completely on the mend. And M and I won’t be traumatized (forever) by the image of the raw, open, skin on her bottom. (gah, just typing that makes me shudder. It was so bad that it made my physically ill to think about it, still does to be honest).

And now? Finally? SHE HAS A TOOTH! A chopper on the top!!

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......................................................oh wait. One.

Yeah, one.

Crap. How many more teeth does she have to go?

Mighty Mouse

Jellybean is a dynamo. She's on the move, in a big way, ALLLLL the time.

I swear, she's the world's tiniest toddler.

She's 11.5 months old (where has the time gone?) and she weighs in at (at most) 17lbs.

9 month pants are too long for her.

When she stands by the tub, the edge is up to her armpits.

This kid is just plain-old small!

But in the last week, let me tell you what she's done:

She's gotten out of the straps of her highchair and stood up in it. (yes, my heart was in my stomach and no, she'll never be left alone again). I've written about this before, but man the kid is a houdini!

She's gotten one leg up over the edge of the bathtub and would have made it all the way in if I hadn't stopped her.

She's gotten up into her maclaren stroller and stood up in the seat.

She's scrambled up onto the couch and hoisted herself up onto the window edge.

Notice a pattern here?????

And her new thing? When she's walking past me, instead of going around she'll go under my legs. And if I don't move them apart fast enough she PUSHES me!

I mean, really pushes!

That's my mighty mouse! She's got a tall personality. Hee.

Here she is, the tiniest toddler in the world

She is a walking fiend! And her big sister couldn't be prouder!

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!

Road Runner

Jellybean's not thinking about jail breaks anymore - she's OUT! She's FAST!

SHE'S WALKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Photos to come.

Jailbreak

Jellybean is on the move.

She took 5 steps last weekend. In a row!

Pretty soon? She's going to make a break from jail.


(seriously, I snapped this photo through the door at her montessori school - that's her all in red. Doesn't it look like she's about to make a run for it? She and her fellow inmate are comparing plans, deciding who's going to distract the warden.....

And, on an unrelated note, I have come up with a new nickname for Jellybean:

She's now the "Mighty Mouse." I came up with this last night, in the middle of the night, when I was wrestling her out of a poopy pair of pjs. Man, is she STRONG!

When she's 13, I may regret raising such a confident child

So, clothing. Clothing has become the bane of my existence in the mornings.

Why you ask? Because it is taking, on average, 45 (FORTY-FIVE!!) minutes each morning to get Monkey dressed for school.

I think we're going to a new system - picking outfits out the night before. Maybe I'll even send her to bed in her outfit. Something's gotta give.

It just takes waaaaay too long in the morning, with debates and discussions about the socks, the shoes, the pants, the dress NO the shirt no not THAT shirt, the sweatshirt NO NO NO the coat NO WAIT the sweatshirt, the hairclip NO NO NO the headband no NOTHING at all...and it NEEDS to MATCH!!!

ARGH!!!!!!!

Guess that's to be expected from a kid that likes clothing, likes to match, and has a tremendous amount of confidence.

I may want to pull my hair out but I'm raising a confident daughter!

Something tells me I'll suffer a few twinges of regret when she's a headstrong teenager....

Talent, redux

Each child is as different as a snowflake.

The second time around it is different.

Everything old is new again.

Dear g*d, this again? Seriously?

So, when Jellybean arrived, everyone told me it would be different. That I would be able to rely upon the things I had learned, so yes, it would be easier, but that I shouldn't expect #2 to be the same as #1. That I would need to be patient, and see where Jellybean's talents lie....to not expect her to take after her sister.

Which is why I really had to laugh when, at the library this morning, my friend T watched Jellybean move around and try to climb EVERYTHING in sight and blurted out "oh dear g*d, you got another one?"

Yes, dear reader - I do. I have another monkey.

Jellybean learned how to crawl a mere 6 weeks ago. Three days ago she dragged a chair across the floor at school, stood up on the chair, and then tried to hoist herself into the sink. That same day, she climbed up on top of a table at school, and then - sans support - stood up. (Needless to say she's freaking her teachers out and they are watching her like a hawk)

Yesterday, she was balancing on the stablization bar underneath her highchair. And today? Today she screamed like a banshee (rage and disbelief) when I wouldn't let her balance on her toes on top of a Radio Flyer "bike."

I have packed bandaids and Neosporin in my purse. Again.

Playing Favorites

So I have a confession to make. I suspect that Jellybean is one of her teacher's favorites. And I can't help but think - OF COURSE she is!

When I dropped her off at school yesterday morning (yes, the day I had POOP on me), she had fallen asleep in the Ergo baby carrier. She was snuggled in and snoring gently. Ah, so cute.

But everyone knows how cranky a baby can be if you wake them up. So, I slipped my shoes off, walked quietly into her room, and attempted to extricate Jellybean from the Ergo in order to gently place her on her napping spot. And....she woke up.

In a great mood! She rubbbed her eyes, looked around the room, and smiled her toothy little grin. And then waved! Like - hi teachers! Howdy!

Now, mind you, at that moment in time every other baby in the room was crying. Or screaming. Take your pick.

One of the teachers looked at Jellybean, looked at the other little ones (the bright red in the face SCREAMING little ones), and said - "oh, she's so easy." With more than a little bit of relief in her voice.

Mind you, they are too kind (and professional) to ever say anything that would indicate they have a favorite.

But in my mind, I think they do. Just a little bit. Because she's just so damn happy, my 'lil bean.

On langauge (yes, I know I've used this title before - deal with it)

So, two fun things happened in the last 24 hours:

Jellybean said mama! WOOOHOOOO!!!!!!!!! Of course, I’ve been unable (FAIL!! ROAR GNASH SOB) to get her to repeat it. But still. My heart about triples in size just thinking about it! SO proud of my little bean! God, do I love that little girl. I smooched her incessantly on the bus ride to school this morning, murmuring “say mama, say mama…” in between kisses on her soft blonde hair.

But no, she was silent. From the grins she kept giving me, I think she likes the attention and might withhold the next mama just to keep me focused on her – the stinker!

Not to be outdone by her little sister, Monkey has started writing “notes” to her daddy, presently traveling for work, “because she loves him.”

Which is why there is a small parade of hot pink (bien sur!) post-it notes stretching across the wall by our bed. She’s putting them there “to keep” in his absence. She’s so earnest, this is just endearing. Especially since the notes are comprised solely of a few random scribbles. Our budding novelist…..

Vitals

Each girl had a check up recently. Jellybean for the 9month mark, and Monkey for three years (gulp - how did that go by so fast?).

Jellybean:
*In great health.
*Eating well and on track developmentally.
*Can add more foods to her repertoire of items to cram in her mouth.
*Weight: 15lbs 4oz, OMG about the 7th percentile - woohoo!!!!
*Height: 27” so about the 30th% in height.

Monkey:
*Mulish and stubborn but in great health (as far as we can tell - see below)..
*May be deaf - refused to do hearing test (can hear just fine, NO REALLY)
*May be blind - refused to do vision test (SAME).
*Weight: 30lbs so in the 25-50%
*Height: 37.5inches so the 50-75%

But those are just their vital statistics.

You ask their parents, or their grandparents (or godparents)? They're perfect. The end.

On Milestone Charts

Milestone charts were a secret obsession of mine when Monkey was little. I read them ALL THE TIME to make sure Monkey was doing OK. Or to obsess because she *might* be delayed, or better yet gloat because she *might* be ahead woohoo!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gentle readers – no one will know, you can nod your head in silent recognition of your version of this common malady…..

No, really - go ahead, I’ll wait a moment................
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OK, we can move on now.

This time around, I might remember to check in once or twice, but I now realize their value. They are truly helpful at…………driving traffic to those websites. Aaaaaaaand, that’s about it.

Because really, sometimes they are SO wrong it is pitiful.

To wit: one popular website (cough cough cough BabyCenter cough) lists 16 months as the point that “most” children have temper tantrums when they are frustrated.

Jellybean already does that. She’s 8.5 months old.

Yeah, um, so I don’t know if I want to gloat about my baby being “advanced” on that one. Kind of feels like a karmic bite in the ass, if you know what I mean.

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.