Summer lovin', happened so fast.....

Tell me more, tell me more, did he drive a nice car?

This past weekend we went to San Juan, PR, and really enjoyed ourselves! M was there for a work conference, with colleagues in from around the world. Monkey and I just went for the sand and the surf....and the pina coladas! We stayed at the Caribe Hilton, where the pina colada was invented. And yes, there was a swim up bar. (no, sadly, we did not take advantage of that option....Monkey declined to get in the pool. More on that later.)

No, I don't have a tan. My dad's nose was just carved up to remove skin cancer, so I was blanketed in sunblock. Monkey, too. I've had several colleagues at work ask me when I'm leaving for San Juan....and look puzzled when I explain I'm back already. What, they thought this pale white skin would suddenly be a deep bronze? Sheesh. I was too busy watching Monkey to even turn my face to the sun 99% of the time!!!

The Caribe was lovely. There were several pools, including one for kids only two feet deep. You'd think that we would have spent all of our time there, right? Nope. Every time we got close to the pool, tons of kids would swim over, with much splashing and laughter, and holler "hola bambina!" and Monkey would say "no!" and walk away. I think the water was too cold and the commotion was too much. So no pool for us.

Thankfully, the Caribe had a lovely beach. The sand wasn't the superfine sand that looks like confectioner's sugar, but it was still heaven on earth as far as Monkey was concerned. We spent quality time building and tearing down sand castles, and throwing rocks into the ocean (Monkey liked the splashing). They had clearly engineered the beach to be super-friendly for kids, as the incline was such that you would be 15 feet out in the water before it was even mid-thigh....so Monkey could walk pretty far in, without getting in over her head. And, while there were waves, they were really gentle and enjoyable.

At first, I didn't think Monkey would go in the ocean. I thought we'd be destined to spend the entire time playing in the sand. And that would have been ok. Just not as much fun.

But, then Joey showed up. Dun dun dun! Joey F, a gorgeous Italian-American 10 year old, the son of one of M's colleagues. Joey was all that and a bag of chips, as far as Monkey was concerned. She had a bona fide crush on him! A graceful 10 year old, Joey was fun and funny. He'd put sand and seaweed on his head to make Monkey laugh. And once he went into the ocean? Well, in went Monkey!

Every time Joey showed up for the entire weekend, Monkey's face would break out into this gigantic smile. She'd chant his name and ask where he went, when he swam away. I kept humming the "Summer lovin'" song from Grease in my head as I watched their interaction.

I don't know how much of this vacation Monkey will remember. And I don't really have any pictures, since M was busy which meant I was on my own at the beach - not a good time to be trying to handle an expensive camera...when your toddler is heading into the ocean and doesn't know how to swim! But, what I will remember is the pure joy that Monkey exhibited when Joey came around, and how much fun she had tumbling in the sand and playing in the ocean. Pure heaven.

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.

To sleep, perchance to dream...

Monkey had an extra-early start this morning. About 4:55am she was restless in her crib, and by 5:05am she was crying for milk. (By the way, this is a big deal - asking for "milk" instead of a bottle! She now drinks all of her milk out of a real cup. Laundry has increased, but she's a big girl now!)

I got up to wrangle her, and M got the milk heated in the kitchen. After Monkey gulped down the milk I brought her back to her room and snuggled into her rocking chair/glider with her under her blankie, hoping she'd go back to sleep. A few times I tried to put her into her crib, but she fussed so I just ended up holding her.

I'm exhausted, because I didn't go back to sleep. But do you know what I got to see? I got to see Monkey dreaming.

She was in my arms, snuggled against me, and she started giggling - in her sleep! She was smiling and giggling, at whatever dream was flitting across her retinas....

Tonight I'll regret being up so early, as I will be extra tired. But I wouldn't have missed watching Monkey dreaming for anything in the world.

We always say she's a happy kid. She even dreams happy. I like that.

A rose by any other name

So yesterday was mother's day. My second mother's day as a mom. And I loved it.

M and I had a lovely day with Monkey. We brunched at Community Food & Juice, rolled in the verdant green grass, admired flowers, read books, and went to Monkey's first-ever street fair. She loved it! I have some great photos of Monkey eating Italian Ice and roasted corn on the cob. Mmmm, street fair food is the best.

But what I really want to write about is Monkey's name for me. When she was just learning to talk, she called me Mama. Which I adore. It's so sweet, so Monkey. And it was never what I called myself when talking to her - I'd always say "hand the ball to Mommy" purely out of habit, I guess because that is what I called my mom when I was little? Who knows. But I always treasured Monkey's chosen word for me. It seemed, yes, this is sappy, special.

And now, lately, she has started calling me Mommy. And for whatever reason, it almost breaks my heart. Because my little girl is growing up. She's shedding her babyish ways, right in front of me, and with each utterance of the word "mommy" (or complex phrase like "where did it {squirrel} go?") she gets a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more independent. And I am so proud of her.

But still, my heart aches to be called Mama.

Time Out

So Monkey is 21 months old now, and she throws temper tantrums and hits when she is mad. So, we give her time outs.

Time outs are conducted in the big arm chair in the living room. No books or toys are allowed, and the tv can't be on. After all, she's supposed to sit there and not have fun!

When she does something bad, like getting sulky when refused crack cocaine sprinkled on her cheerios and trying to hit me, (kidding about the drugs, but not about her taking a swipe at me), her behavior prompts an immediate response. I would tell her no, scoop her up into my arms, scold her again, and tell her she is going to get a time out. Usually this precipitates much crying and writhing in my arms, she'll say sorry, act a little sulky, but then cheer right up and stop the bad behavior. And, when she was put into the time out chair, she'd cry and cry and cry. In general, this approach was working. The time out chair was something she wanted to avoid!

So, we moved onto using the time out chair as a threat. If Monkey was drawing with crayon on the floor we'd tell her no, and ask her if she wanted a time out. She'd say no, and stop drawing on the floor.

Unfortunately for us, she has now decided that she LIKES the time out chair. When asked if she'd like a time out (posed as a threat), she stops crying, nods, and says "yesth!" And when put into the time out chair, she rolls around on her back, wiggles her feet in the air, sings and generally enjoys herself.

She's killing me! Outwitted by a 21 month old.