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......

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.

Chicken soup has nothing on this...

I caught some bug and am still not up to speed. The vertigo is gone and I can function, but I'm exhausted. Which is why I'll take medicine in any form, including love and laughter.

Monkey has been supplying both to me - it's better than chicken soup for what ails me!

I wasn't able to bring to girls into school Friday morning, so M did the duty (thanks love, I needed your help) and dropped them off at school.

When I picked the girls up that afternoon, I felt better but still pretty wretched. Just wrung-out and beat-up. But I got to tell you, when I went into the gym to grab Monkey she FLEW across the room, running into my arms and asking "mommy, do you feel better now?" It was awesome. Just pure love.

Then, on the way home, we were walking a bit slower than usual and I declined Monkey's offer to run with her (as I was carrying Jellybean in the ergo, plus all their stuff and my purse - the normal sherpa-mommy routine). She asked why and I explained that I wasn't feeling great.

She wanted to know why. So, I told her that I'd caught a bug.

"Hmmm. Well, I've caught a bug, too!" she declared. I confess, I thought that this conversation was not going to end well.

But, then she turned to me and brightly chirped "my bug is a ladybug - what's yours?"

I about fell over laughing. Thanks kid, that was exactly what I needed.

There's a bathroom on the right*

Monkey has been introduced to The Sound of Music, and she's in love.

"Is is a school night?" is the introductory question (since no TV or movies is allowed on a school night). As soon as she verifies that it isn't, she will ask to watch the "singing movie."

And, as we walk through the streets of the city on our commute to and from school, more often than not we're belting out "Doe a Deer" at the top of our lungs (to the amusement of most, the annoyance of some....).

The part that always makes me laugh is her mangled lyrics:

"Tea, a drink with jam and bread" has become "tea, a lick of garlic bread." It cracks me up every single time!

*sorry Creedence Clearwater Revival, but everyone gets your lyrics wrong!