A Day in the Life of an 18-month-old

I've been thinking about doing a post on what a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom)'s day looks like. After a long day, JB likes to joke, "What? I thought you just laid on the couch and ate bon-bons all day while I went to work." har har.

But I realized that listing off the six loads of laundry that I did or the rooms that I dusted and vacuumed isn't really that interesting. Not even to me. And I love to vacuum. 

Then I began to ponder a day looks like to Olivia. The busiest girl in America....

(All of these things are TRUE and she did all but 1 of them in the last two days alone.)

7:45: OMG, I am AWAKE! I've got so many things to do today! While I wait for Mama I must keep busy. Cannot be still. Will read my board book aloud. Or play with my stuffed friends Pooh, Brownie, or Ba. Will unzip my jams down to my waist so that I look like a creepy 70's pimp. Or maybe I can stand up in the crib and wait. Maybe, like that one time, I can drape my white blanket over my head and wait, standing perfectly still and silent, so that Mama thinks that I am a ghost. Making her heart stop in fear is so fun!

7:55: Mama is here! I will ardently request my teapot as she lifts me from my crib. TeaPOT! TeaPOT! Must. Have. Teapot. 

8:10: Time to play downstairs while Mama makes breakfast that I won't eat. Better collect any stray remote controls and furiously pound their buttons. V. important business. Wait! I see crayons! Better put them to use. If I can't find my coloring book, I will use any other book I find laying around. Well, Mama is in the kitchen. I'll go in there. I'll climb up on the chair while her back is turned. And color on the table. I couldn't find any paper.

8:45:I am back in my room! Lucy is with me! We will PLAY. TeaPOT TeaPOT TeaPOT. Princesses! Puzzles! BLOCKS!!! Must amass every toy in my room and pile it in the middle of the floor. 

9:15 Mama gets me dressed. This dismays me because it takes away from play time. Then we go to the library. Mama gives me her license and debit card to play with while she looks up a book on the computer. Then we walk to the giant library shelves and she looks for her book. She turns the corner to look at more books. I quickly insert her license and debit card into the stacks. I pull out a random book. Mama comes and stops me from pulling out two more books. She picks me up and goes to the counter with her book. Then she starts to mutter, "Where is my license? Where did you put my cards, Olivia?" 

I do not speak good English, so I do not answer her. 

She gets more and more upset. She eventually finds the cards. 

Drive to another store for errands. "Book! Book! Book!" I cry. Mama hands me all the books in the car. I do not want those books! I want to go back to ALL the books at the library. Mama is not very smart at understanding. So I guess I'll just keep crying out "Book!" until I tire. Which is never.

10:30: ELMO!!!!  We are home and Mama turns on Sesame Street and ELMO!!! Sit quietly in princess chair. Until I get bored. Find something else to do. Mama is doing dishes. AGAIN. How boring. How can anyone like doing dishes that much? I find my green rainboots and try to put them on. Mama has to stop what she's doing to help me. Then I stomp around in my boots. Mama leaves kitchen to get something, and I find the butter dish. I've never noticed it before, but there it is, on the counter, and I can reach it! Woah, this stuff is sticky. I'll try to wipe the butter off the dish and onto my high chair. Mama comes back. "I was gone 3 seconds! What are you DOING??" 

I do not speak good English, so I do not answer her.

11:00: I get to go OUTSIDE. I love "side!" Love. Love. Love. Side. Side. Side. When Mama tries to put me in the stroller to go on a walk, I rebel. I make it hard for her to put me in the stroller. Mama wins. Mama is strong. 

11:45. We're back from walk and Mama lets me play SIDE! She gets out her shovel to dig weeds. I need that shovel. I need that shovel and I need to use it while I sit in Mama's lap. Mama is elusive though and keeps getting away to "weed." Whatever that is. She's pulling up plants. I can do that. I can dig up the ground with Mama's my shovel. I can even step on the plants. Why doesn't Mama want me to help her?

Ooh. Now she's getting out the hose to water the plants. I can help! But first I have to thrust both hands under the water. Cold! My hands and arms are soaked. And then I remember what my Daddy taught me to do at bathtime. I put my head under the water and get it nice and wet. Cold! I want to do it again but Mama doesn't let me.

12:00: Watch Miss Spider while Mama makes lunch.

12:20: Eat lunch chips.

1:00-1:30: I am in my room again! Oh crap. It's just  naptime. Boo. I protest. Mama puts me in bed and I eventually collapse like a boxer who just got TKO'd. 

3:30: AWAKE!!!! Mama doesn't look too good now. She isn't moving very quickly. But I feel GREAT!! 

4:00: Get in car to see NanaPapa. I love going to see NanaPapa. I get to wear Pack. (Pack is a bear I wear on my back. I love Pack. Except for his tail that Mama holds. She says she holds it so that I don't get away from her. I think she holds it so that she can rain on my parade.) I walk proudly with Pack on my back, insisting that we stop for each staircase so that I can practice, though Mama doesn't always listen. Say HI! to every stranger we walk by. 

Nana's room is fun because there are TONS of buttons to push. And things to look at. And things to start to touch until Mama yells at me. I will talk to Nana or Papa if it doesn't take too much time. Must. Keep. Exploring.

Snatch kleenex out of box. Put to mouth and cough twice. It's what I see grownups do. 

Casually walk to the panel at end of Nana's bed. Mama and Papa always point to words on the panel and say, "For Hospital Staff Use Only." Whatever that means. Pretend to wipe down the panel with my coughed-on Kleenex. Mama says that it's nice that I clean. Then, when they are distracted by my tidiness, I flip open the panel quick as lightning and try to push every button.

"No!!!!"

Why does everyone yell at me so much??

5:00: Home from NanaPapa's. Mama is looking very tired. I see my wagon in the garage and request a ride. Mama concedes. While she opens the house door to get the dog's leash, I open the gate and start to leave toward the street with the wagon. Mama screams NO! DANGER!

I do not speak good English, so I ignore her. 

I try again as she's grabbing her keys off of the hook next to the door. 

NO! DANGER!

Good Lord, woman, I just want to go on a stinking wagon ride and you are taking for-ev-er. 

I get bored on wagon ride and swing my legs over the side to get out while Mama is still pulling. That sly cat--she happens to look back right as I'm about to escape and run into the street. She makes me hold her hand while we walk. I escape and run into a neighbor's yard.

5:20: We are home and Mama turns on TV for me, but I get bored and come into the kitchen where she is making dinner. I request a seat on the counter. If I don't get to be on the counter, I will pull open drawers and cupboards until I find something breakable exciting to play with.

5:30: Daddy's home!!! Daddy goes upstairs to change and read email. I continue to make life exciting for Mama. 

6:00: Mmmm, dinner. Maybe. Maybe I will eat dinner.

6:30: Dancey Dance time! Mama turns on the stereo and we dance to fun songs. Like Def Leppard, Black Eyed Peas, Diana Ross, and AC/DC. I insist that Mama wears giant white sunglasses while she dances. It makes it harder for her to dance, which she wants to do to lose weight.  I wonder why she hasn't lost 50 lbs from chasing me around all day. So does Mama.

7:00: Back in my room with Lucy! Time to drop a deuce. Once the smell hits Mama's nostrils in another room, she comes to clean me up. Daddy comes by and says, "That smells like an adult turd!" What do you know--I AM becoming like a big kid! I wiggle around while Mama tries to clean me. She keeps repeating, "Shit." Must remember to repeat after her sometime. It's a new word that Mama seems to like a lot. 

8:00: I get my Jammers on and Mama and Daddy pick up my toys. I follow them and get them out again. Mama makes me sit in the chair to read stories. I rebel. Not enough movement involved. I concede. After 3 books Mama turns out the light. "More!" I demand. "More!" Cry when Mama does not read more books. "Why can't you just go to bed?" Mama asks. 

I do not speak good English, so I do not answer her. 

8:15: Collapse into bed after several renditions of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which I like to try to sing along to, the ABC song, Jesus Loves Me, and night time prayers. Mama is making very slow movements and appears to have bags under her eyes. She blows me a kiss anyway and says she loves me.

I cannot WAIT for tomorrow.

Anatomy of a Bad Day

I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not. But today was just one of those days where things just kept going wrong.

1.) I find dog pee on my freshly laundered jeans that I laid on the bed.

2.) Discover dog has peed all over the bed again. (Yes, she should probably be put down for this, but I'm a dog lover, so she stays.) I always keep our bedroom door shut because of Lucy's incredible naughtiness. She likes to mark the bed when we change blankets each season. We've probably gone a year without incident. Today was one of those days where I forgot to shut the door.

3.) Dog pee has infiltrated my down comforter throw. The quilt. The top sheet, fitted sheet, and even the mattress pad.

4.) Cannot murder dog because child is still sleeping. Dog slinks around, aware of her evil actions.

5.) Spend day cleaning LOTS of bedding. Spend other part of day scheming dog's demise. 

6.) Child sleeps late so I miss going to MOPS. 

7.) Reason that child sleeps later is because child declines daily nap. Child turns into monster at around 4:30 p.m. every day.

8.) Today was not different. Child declines nap, and this time CRIES after being in her crib for less than an hour.

9.) Drive Jeckyl and Hyde child to pick up dogs for dog sitting stint. Have to carry Granny dog out of house. Then Granny dog hides under porch. Have to drag poor Granny dog out from under porch so that I can carry her to the car. Feel terrible dragging a dog by her scruff, but she offers no assistance.

10.) Drive a car full of 3 panting dogs, one little girl, and a load of dog food, a pen, leashes, etc.

11.) Rear end man in rush hour traffic, because I am a dippy do.

12.) Granny dog slides off of backseat in crash, landing on the floor. Her hips are too weak to lift her back onto the seat, so she rides home backwards, her butt on the floor and her front paws on the seat.

13.) Cars, K-9's, and people unharmed, mostly. Minor body damage. Major shame. Man in the Beamer was kind. But I am a bad girl nonetheless.

14.) Let dogs out at home to do business. Call them in. Yell at Lexi for her shit breath, as the side entry reaks of it.

15.) Realize that my child has lots of fresh dog poo on both shoes.

16.) Feel bad for blaming Lexi. 

17.) Accident causes me to get home late and to be frazzled, so I cannot make dinner. Resort to McDonald's. Boo. 

18.) Spray Newmans' own Ranch Dressing on myself and bag while trying to open it.

19.) Realize that it is 11:00 p.m. and I left laundry out on the line.

Agh!

Hopefully this post helped you feel good about yourself today. Compared to me, I'm sure you're trouble free. :)

Baby Casanova

Olivia got her first kiss the other day.

Sister Annie responded that "she gets more action than me!" Sorry, sister. If you want to come to the library with us the next time you visit, perhaps you'd have some luck, too. ;)



Olivia and I were at our weekly visit to the EGR library, a land filled with toys and fun. There were 10-15 little kids playing around at the various stations. Olivia likes to just walk around it all a lot, stopping momentarily to talk to a child who interests her, or to try to take an interesting toy from that interesting child. So I spend my time walking closely behind her so that I may teach her that it's not okay to take toys from others, etc.

O had tried playing with a girl her same size (and perhaps age) with bright red hair. She first started chattering to her when they were near the fishtank. O just strode right up to her and strung off a mouthful of jibberjabber. The girl was nonplussed. She gave O a blank stare, so O shrugged her off and moved on. Poor O! She was trying to make a friend!

Later O spotted her again and tried to strike up some fun. But upon Olivia's arrival at the girl's table, the redhead scooped up all the toys within reach and hoarded them to herself, giving Olivia a meanish look. She didn't like sharing, I guess.

My girl got up and was walking by the ice cream stand when a little boy (about 3ish, who I later heard addressed as Jack) said to his mom, "Look, a beebee!" (Even though there were a few other little beebees there, too, but perhaps they weren't in his peripheral.)

The Bird kept cruising until she stopped at a little table with a wooden puzzle on it. She has three of these at home and really enjoys them. Immediately the little boy comes over to see the puzzle, too.

I had crouched down to help O identify the animals on it. The boy named every animal I pointed to, such as the alligator and giraffe. Another girl came over to be part of the fun, too. I think I was the only adult interacting with the children. Parents of older toddlers were sitting on comfy chairs and reading, trusting their children to practice the manners they had been taught. Parents of little kids were hovering in the background in various parts of the library, but not as closely as I was to O. Maybe I'm just anal about my kid treating others nicely. So I think when the kids saw a grownup talking and playing with THEM, it looked pretty exciting.

As we were playing with the wooden puzzle, O tried to pick up some puzzle pieces to check out. The little boy started talking to her and suddenly smiled and said, "Nice beebee! I'm going to give her a kiss!" I wasn't sure whether to let him or not, for fear of the communicable diseases they could share, such as INFLUENZA and wretched COLDS. Fortunately he kissed her forehead, and not her lips.

Olivia didn't think it was a very big deal, as everyone she knows kisses her all the time. Right after he did that, the redheaded girl comes out of nowhere and snatches the elephant puzzle piece right from under them and runs for it. The boy took off to regain the lost toy, and that was the last we saw of him.

I don't know what his fascination with Olivia was, though considering the surly nature of the redheaded "beebee," perhaps Olivia's general happiness was like a breath of fresh air to that kid. Or, perhaps he kisses ALL the beebees he sees, and O is just another forehead on his list.

Pants on the Ground

Today I was sitting on the Can (aka The Throne) when I heard a loud crash come from Olivia's room. A loud crash that sounded a lot like her bookcase tipping over.

Then I heard O cry out for me for about two seconds. "Aaaaggghh!!"

I hurriedly tried to finish what I was doing so I could come to her rescue. As I was trying to make myself decent, there was silence. I thought it was one of those baby screams where the kid is holding their breath before they let out an ear curdling wail. But no cry came, so this made me wonder if she got knocked out or something.

I dashed across the hall to her room to see the bookcase fallen on its face, toys strewn around it and sticking out from under it hapharzadly, and the yellow lamp crashed on the floor. I was wondering where Olivia was when I noticed a little baby leg and shoe-clad foot, sticking out from under the bookcase.

It wasn't moving.

It was like that famous scene from Munchkin-land. I was half expecting the foot to curl up and pull itself under the bookcase, leaving the little polkadot shoe behind.

"Was she unconscious?" I wondered.

Turns out she was just waiting patiently for me to come help her. 

"I'm sorry, Olivia!" I said as I pulled the bookcase off of her.

As soon as the case was lifted, the little girl sat up and looked at me very calmly and a little dazed. I scanned her for blood or wooden puzzle pieces embedded in her skull, and as there didn't seem to be any major damage, I told her that I had to return to the bathroom to wash my hands and then I'd come see her. (Afterall, a little girl who has an accident like that would need lots of cuddling and rocking, I would imagine.)

She came to her gated doorway and voiced her protest as I soaped my hands. She soon shrugged me off as a lost cause and returned to the room to continue playing.

Excuse me, baby, but you just pulled a bookcase onto yourself that is taller than you, and you aren't even scared? Upset? Nervous about going near it again?

You're just gonna go back to playing???

Yes, apparently the lamp on the floor needed investigating, and crying and carrying on got in the way of such serious play.


I'm thinking about entering her in a Baby Toughman Contest...

Bird Update

Baby Olivia saw Dr. Hofman today for her 15-month checkup, so I thought I'd post a little update.

Dr. Hofman said that, "She's the best one out there!" and said that I could share that.

So there. He DOES think she's the best baby ever (but probably after his own kids and grandkids, naturally--though he didn't clarify that...).

She's taller than the average 2-year-old. And not quite that heavy, but close enough. He gave her a clean bill of health.

On the home front, she has become a very busy girl: walking, almost-running, playing with her toys, playing with Daddy, playing with the doggie, dancing, trying to talk, etc.

Here's what she's been up to.

Hanging with JB:




Channeling her inner Axl Rose:




Reading (she dons all these headpieces on her own):


And shaking' her booty (she prefers to dance w/o audiences, so I had to sneak up on her):

My Mom says she gets those moves from her, and I believe her. Because I didn't teach her any of this, and she's never seen it on TV.

Bye!

This morning I walked into Olivia's room to check on her and get a Kleenex. She had been playing by herself (well, with Lucy, too) for a while and usually if she doesn't see me for a while she starts calling for me. So I thought I'd anticipate her needs and say Hi.

When I came in she was busy trying to climb into her little wooden rocking chair that had belonged to her Grandpa Mark when he was little. I watched as she climbed into the little rocker all by herself, holding a thick boardbook the whole time. It was a difficult ordeal, not dropping the book and maneuvering into a rocking chair while wearing slippery fleece pajamas. There was a bit of grunting and heavy breathing involved, but she managed it.

As she leaned back in the chair (very chill looking), with book in hand, and looking pleased with herself, I clapped and praised her. Ignoring this, she grabbed my pant leg and pushed it toward the door, saying in her sweet but firm baby voice, "Bye!... Bye!" I was nonplussed but she maintained her stance until I got the clue and started to leave.

Apparently reading time is a solitary activity.

AMENDMENT: I just returned from her room and apparently doing business is a solitary activity.

Happy Birthday Tommy!

It's my brother's birthday today. Every few years it falls on Friday the 13th. Ooooh! Spooky!

I remember when we were living in the Lapeer house and our cat ran away from home. It was an outdoors cat, so I don't know why we were so surprised when he took off. I was sooo sad about it! For days I waited for that cat to come home.

Then Tommy's birthday came. On Friday the 13th. And we were all getting ready for his birthday party when the neighbor calls to say he found our cat. Or something like that. I was little. I just remember that after Mom got off the phone with someone, she said that our cat was found. So that Friday the 13th was actually a LUCKY day.

Hopefully this was another lucky one for you, brother!

In honor of his birthday, I did a Mohawk photo shoot with Olivia and Lucy for his birthday card. Unfortuately Lucy's 'hawk did not translate well onto film. Oh well!

As soon as I gave my name to the girl at the photo counter at Walgreens, where I was picking up my prints, she said, "I LOVE the mohawk photos! They are so cool!" Then she went on to tell me that she did the same thing with her son (who is same age as O) and how her fiance went bananas over them. He insisted that they be made into 8x10's and framed.

What can I say? Mohawks are awesome.

And mohawks on babies are priceless.

Here are some gems from the photo shoot. I hope you got your card already, brother, so that this doesn't spoil the surprise. But I couldn't wait any longer to post!!:

Getting started:

"Mother, are we doing ANOTHER photo shoot? Seriously. If you make me do another one of these I swear I'm going to feed Piglet to the dog."
"You shall put the camera down and stack blocks with me instead!"

The one baby and dog shot. Lucy was kind of nervous about sitting in a rocking chair. She had been even more nervous at the sound of hairspray being dispensed into her fur. She is so obedient!

Reflections in being a caged baby...

Oh, crap. Now that I've busted all my friends out of jail, who's gonna get ME out??

You know it's hard out here for a punk...

Best Parents Ever

I know that all of my blogs these days are about Olivia. And for those of you without children, it's probably a drag. I am sorry. You can judge me. I'd judge you if you did the same. :)

But, well, Olivia is entertaining to me. And I'm not in a writing season right now. I'm in a "crafting for Christmas" season, which means that witty stories are collecting dust in the recesses of my mind, while I am busy sewing and gluing. There's always something to keep me from writing, isn't there?

So last night was Bath Night for the Bird. JB is the appointed bather, so I can have a break from that silly girl. I brought O upstairs while JB checked his internets. I closed the shades in her room. I picked up her toys. I got out her pajamas. I got out her towel. Then I came into the office to tell JB that everything was ready.

However, JB wasn't ready. So he did not take up watching duties right away. And I had mentally checked out, so I assumed that JB would watch her and I forgot all about her.

Everything was quiet until we heard wimpering in the bathroom. Olivia does not cry. Even when she fell down the side entry stairs last week, she barely cried. Instead, she wimpers. I can't exactly spell out the sound, but it was "Uhh...help, please...uhhh...I'm stuck and I don't know what to do...uhhhh..."

JB sprung up from his chair and raced to the bathroom, and upon arrival, hollered for me to make haste. I was quick on my feet, with my camera in tow.

This is what we saw:




Yes, Olivia had gotten stuck half-in, half-out of the bathtub.

Yes, that is the toilet brush next to her foot, and the brush's holder in the tub.

Yes, those were her toys until she half-fell into the tub.

Yes, JB and I are the best parents ever.

I can't stop laughing...

Happy Halloween!

How'd this puppy get in our house?

...and make friends with Lucy!?

Wait, I know who that is! It's an Olivia-puppy!

(Look at those molars! More are on the way...)

Putting things In

One of Olivia’s new pastimes is to put things into something else. Placing her graduated plastic cups into one another, collecting her alphabet magnets into a pot to make alphabet soup, putting shapes into the Tupperware Shape-O Toy at Mark and Marian’s house, etc. Until I realized how much she did this, I had some trouble locating some of her toys. I had begun to think I was losing my mind one night, as I was certain that I brought her Weebles into the kitchen for her to play with. But they were nowhere. I eventually found them in my large dutch oven pot. In the lazy susan.

This afternoon I was trying to get some craft time in. I usually do it in the morning during O’s 40 minutes of Sesame Street, but was too busy today.

My goal was to cut one rectangle out of a piece of material. ONE RECTANGLE, people.

In that very short period of time, Olivia covered a lot of ground. She read a few books aloud in the living room. Then she crawled over to the large crock that sits by the fireplace. It looked like just the kind of thing to put things in to. So she crawled back to her pile of toys, and brought over a few things that went into the crock. (Note to self: when I can’t find a certain toy of Olivia’s, look in crock.)

Then she came into the dining room where I was working. She tried reaching a ceramic chicken on a shelf (she's pulling herself up now). Realizing that it was too high, she set her sights on the red ceramic pot of mums. Too high again. Take THAT, curious baby! Then she crawled under the dining room table to do her daily grunting alone, where I couldn't see her. (Do anyone else’s kids do that? Go to a quiet place to take a crap?)

Once that was done, she was off again. I had finished cutting the third side of the rectangle when I caught sight of her out of the corner of my eye. She was sitting in the kitchen, next to the dog bowl. She was waving her hand at me. Her shiny wet hand.

I have been teaching her NOT to splash the dog’s water or eat the dog’s food. So she knows better, and that was why she was looking at me with her hand in the air like that. As if to say, “yes, I put my hands in the water, but you didn’t SEE me doing it, so I’m not in trouble.” I came over and told her no, and that was when I noticed it. The two pink baby socks chilling in Lucy’s water bowl. Olivia had deemed the water bowl worthy of “putting something in” and pulled off her socks, since she didn’t have any toys at hand.

I admire her intelligence, for realizing that you can put something into something, even if something (like water) is already in it.

But I’d really appreciate it if she could wait until craft time is over. My gimpy rectangle is still laying on the table, waiting…

I rocked my baby tonight

I rocked my baby tonight.

I really wanted to read more of Dick Francis’ The Edge.

and to shop for vintage books online.

I wanted to research Alfred Meakin’s Denmark china pattern, circa 1891

or sew Olivia’s windmill quilt and to fancy different ways to quilt the final product.

But I rocked my baby instead.

I should have unpacked from our Labor Day trip to the cabin,

or emailed a woman about starting a Book Club.

Perhaps paid some bills

and put a clean handtowel up in the bathroom.

But I rocked my baby instead.

I rocked her because every time I rock her in her light blue room,

I look at her half-open doorway with faint light spilling in from the hall

and see a 20-year-old girl standing there,

looking at me, saying,

“Mom, have you seen my book?” or “Mom, can you drive me back to college tomorrow?”

And I realize that one day

I will never rock my baby again.

My Big Girl

Olivia crawls now.

Everywhere.

It's really cute. Especially when she sees something new to explore across the room and she squeals with delight and then takes off after it.

We've been working on her fall/winter wardrobe a little bit. Marian was at Kohl's the other week and asked what size to get O for pants. We decided she would need 24-months. When I hung the new pants up in her closet next to her summer capris, the pants looked ENORMOUS. Super long. I was a little disappointed because I wanted her to start wearing the cute striped pants now instead of late in the winter. But then, all of a sudden, she shot up like a beanstalk, and those 24-month pants weren't so big anymore!

Then I tried putting the 18-month capris on her and they're waaay too short. Seriously, that happened in like a 1-2 week span!

And she also got her first pair of shoes. We got them a week ago. At the store, her feet were swimming in the shoes, even with socks on. But we finally went with the bigger size, because I want these to last forever. Or at least through the winter. I swear her feet grew, too, because now the shoes stay on her feet, instead of falling off.

She saw Dr. Hofman for her 10-month checkup on Thursday. At her 6-month she was 29 inches. I had been measuring her since then, and the longest she got was 29.5. Well, on Thursday, she was

31.5 inches!!!

And here's her in her 24-month pants to prove it!

(Please don't mind the blurriness.)


I looked at JB's baby book and he was about that height when he was her age, so don't worry, folks, it looks like she won't get any taller than 6'3"!

Bird Update III

Tonight I was trying to give Olivia dinner while making my own, and the casserole I was making needed a little more attention than I had bargained for. As a result, I kept giving Olivia more and more food in order to keep her at bay while I cooked. I was also curious just how much she would eat as I am always wondering if I feed her enough.

When I put her in the bathtub I realized that she indeed got enough to eat. I really wanted to get a photo of it, but I couldn't convince Lucy to spot Olivia in the tub while I ran downstairs to fetch my camera. Laying in the tub, she looked just like the Saggy Baggy Elephant did when he floated in the water. My baby had a big belly!


Today the Bird is 10 months old and is changing right before my eyes.

She is way more curious, and has discovered the treasures lying behind cupboard doors and in boxes, bins, etc. While her curiosity is strong, it is not intense enough to warrant crawling to such things. She will occasionally do the "wounded soldier" crawl, but mostly just does her precision rolling.

Her first word is "dog." She says Mama and Dada, but not to us. She will point at a dog though and say, "dah!" She jabbers more, especially while "reading" her books. Watching her read her books is one of my favorite things. She points her chubby fingers at a picture on a page and talks to it.


Lucy and Olivia can play together more now. Favorite games: lick the baby on the face and watch the baby laugh; tug-of war; laying near baby to get pets; and one of their favorites: before the Mom yells at the baby, eating baby snacks that baby offers to dog.




The Bird has also gone swimming! The first time was with Daddy, and she wasn't very excited about it. Annie and I took her in the Hunts' pool again on Monday, and she liked it much better. I let her slowly dip into the water, and to get used to it before letting her go down farther. We also let her sit on a floating board and play with some bath toys. She was happy in there for an hour! She even floated on her belly and her back. Here is a shot of her first dip:


Olivia has also started to have baby nightmares. I had nightmares when I was little too, and so did some of JB's family. Last night JB heard her cry out and he went to her. She was still frantic as he held her, but eventually he rocked her back to sleep. Maybe she was having dreams about having to wear this shirt again:


Sorry, guys, I just had to go there! You all should know that I'm not really anti-Michigan, but as a Spartan, I feel it is my duty to put this photo into cyberspace. :)

Gender Bender

Dear Reader,

If you were to see this little baby on the street, what gender do you think the baby is? (I had to include the reading picture because it cracks me up. "Just sittin' back with my legs crossed, learnin' my numbers!")

Wherever I go with my baby, people think she is a boy. Today she was wearing the pictured outfit, which if you'll notice has a BOW on it. I took her to an estate sale where the people there all thought he was sooo cute. Some were wise, and just said, "What a cute baby you have!" "Your baby is so nice!", avoiding the gender assignment. Other, more confident folks, said, "He's so cute!" or "You are SUCH a good boy! You are SUCH a good boy!" One man said, "He's so cute. How old is he? 7 1/2 months?" (try nearly 10, guy!)

I don't really care what people guess about my baby because Lord knows that I'm not a good judge of gender or age, either. But everybody thinks she's a boy! Do YOU think this baby looks like a boy? And if so, is it because she has no hair? I mean, a man at McDonald's last week saw her in all her pink glory, and asked how old he was. Yes, it was at a McDonald's out in hicktown Middleville, but still. She can be wearing a dress and will still be considered a boy.

When the lady at the estate sale raved about what a good boy Olivia was being (we were waiting in a long line and O was content to ride in the Bjorn and play with my keys), I considered telling the woman that her name was Oliver if she asked.

I'm getting sick of correcting people, so why not have some fun pretending to have a son? Ladies and gentleman, meet Oliver, my cross-dressing baby boy.

Pretty Baby 2009

Last weekend I was in Mayberry for my parents' annual Fourth of July party.

Mom and I ran to the infamous Wingerts for groceries, and there I ran into my old friend Connie. She alerted me to the Pretty Baby contest that the Mayville Sunflower Festival is holding, as she thinks that O could be a contender.

So we're entering her. The rules do not state that you have to be a resident, and since O's grandma and grandpa still live there, I figure it's fair game.

The only problem is picking a photo! We did a baby photo shoot today, which turned out to be difficult because O kept looking off at Lucy, who was patrolling the yard. She is a little too obsessed with dogs, if you ask me.



This one was not in the photo shoot, but she's just so cute when she has her "reading time." Every day she pulls all the board books off of her bottom shelf and reads all by herself. It's quite entertaining to watch/listen to:



This is actually my current favorite photo, but I doubt it would garner a win. I call it "Highway Patrol Baby":



And this one just made me laugh, so I'm sharing it. Who are you yelling at, Bird?

Real Live Baby Doll

Earlier this week Olivia and I went to the Hilton to visit Grandma Marian and her six house guests. A family from Zimbabwe is on sabbatical for a few months and they’re living with the Hunts for a couple of weeks. I had heard that the situation in Zimbabwe was bad, but meeting people who are actually living with shortages of food and water and electricity makes it way more real, and sad. They seem to take it in stride. I don’t think I’d be so graceful about it.

The four girls LOVED Olivia—specifically the three younger ones. The girls are about 4, 6, 8 and 10. They played with her the whole time, and Olivia was thrilled, as she loves kids. It was so funny to watch them play. As soon as I set Olivia down to play with them, it was as if she belonged to them and I could just go away until it was time for Olivia to go home. Haha. I first realized this after we had all been playing in the hallway upstairs and Marian announced that it was time for tea. As I was getting up to walk over to grab Olivia, one of the girls picked her up herself and started to carry her down the stairs while another girl insisted on holding Olivia’s hand. I didn’t exist. Then they took her off to the living room while the grownups set the table.

At one point they were fighting over who got to hold her. I was letting them work it out because Olivia did not seem to be bothered that they were pulling on her appendages, and I believe in not coddling your kid. But Marian realized that it could get out of control and reminded the girls that Olivia is a real person, not a baby doll that they could tug on. They stopped pulling on her. But they still could not agree on whose turn it was to hold/carry/sit with her.

JB came over after work and we all had dinner together. Then he played Mouse Trap with the girls and their Dad. Later JB commented how it can be fun to have so many kids, because you can play games together, etc. I agree.

Tropical Bird

Olivia turned 6 months old on Saturday, so here is an update.

1.) Olivia is JB's child, as she loves watching TV. Every day for 30 minutes she learns about "World Animals" on her Baby Einstein DVD. One of the animals she learns about is Tropical Bird. The way the little boy says "Tropical Bird" (three times during the video) gets stuck in my head. Instead of a song playing over and over again in my mind, I hear, "Tropical BIRD!" I've also started to call her Tropical Bird instead of just Bird. Then it gets shortened to Tropical a lot. "Hey Tropical!" I'll say. "Wanna play with your toys?" Or, "Tropical, you're really flying in that Johnny Jump Up!" Sometimes I wonder if she knows her REAL name, as I don't use it very often in the course of a day. Fortunately others in her life, like grandparents and JB, call her Olivia.

2.) She eats big girl food and drinks from a big girl cup (well, "medium girl" cup, as it is a sippy, though she can do a real cup with assistance).

3.) She sits up on her own for long periods of time.

4.) She often prefers dog toys to her own, and gets upset when I take them away. The other day I heard her breathing heavily while she was laying on her mat and knew she was trying to get at something out of reach. Then she started making very happy sounds and I looked over to see that she had scorned the sea of toys on her mat in favor of Lucy's squeaky ball. And it wasn't enough to simply hold and admire said toy. No, she had to TASTE IT. A LOT. (Similarly, Lucy prefers baby toys [especially Moby Dick] to her own. She is constantly testing me to see what I'll do if she gingerly puts her mouth around a baby toy. A few times she has tried to hide the toys to see if I notice. I'm guessing that if I do not, she will consider it license to eat.)

5.) She is waaay more fun than when she was a newborn. Pregnancy is really a yearlong endeavor, if you ask me, because the first three months a baby is here is more work than fun.