Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Da-Well
Dear Scarlett,
This morning at breakfast you were asking for your cousin Danielle. "Da-well? Da-well?" you kept repeating. I had to tell you that Da-well was on a plane, after spending a week with us in San Francisco and earning your unwavering devotion. It was a great week, full of food, wine, football, redwoods, farmers' markets, Napa, the aquarium, and several playground trips. We know Da-well had a good time because she has blisters on her feet.
I am also missing your cousin, and the extra pair of eyes and hands she provided. You have been naughty and full of energy this morning. Every time I looked away from you, you were either in the cat food or tormenting Emma. We took a quick trip to UPS today, and instead of walking next to me like I asked you to, you ran into a Pottery Barn and I had to follow you while holding our enormous coffee machine that was getting returned. Getting you in your stroller and car seat has been a serious workout, and you threw your cereal on the floor at breakfast. Now, after an hour of jabbering in your crib, I think you might finally be asleep. Hallelujah.
I assume when you wake up, you will want to talk more about where Da-well has gone. You are lucky to have such a wonderful cousin. She was loving and patient with you all week. She read you stories, watched you at home while I grocery shopped, and diligently made sure that you did not fall down any stairs, eat any stickers, or lose your stuffed animals on our many walks.
Danielle has a dog named Lola, and you must have internalized this information because although Lola did not come on the trip, you still yelled her name every day. "Wo-WA! "Wo-WA!" You also took a nap hiatus this week, and I think it's because your vocabulary is absolutely exploding. You are, however, still working on your pronunciation. While you can say "bubbles", you do not seem to be able to say "bye" and instead tell everyone to "die" when they leave.
I took you to a French lesson in the park this week. It was my lesson, but I wanted you to be there to hear the language I am hoping you will eventually learn. Except that every time I speak French to you at home, you look at me and say, "No."
Since you are so amusing, I've caved in and started a Twitter page where I am recording the things you do and say. It's a little hard to explain your antics in 140 characters, but we're going to give it a try.
Love,
Mom
This morning at breakfast you were asking for your cousin Danielle. "Da-well? Da-well?" you kept repeating. I had to tell you that Da-well was on a plane, after spending a week with us in San Francisco and earning your unwavering devotion. It was a great week, full of food, wine, football, redwoods, farmers' markets, Napa, the aquarium, and several playground trips. We know Da-well had a good time because she has blisters on her feet.
I am also missing your cousin, and the extra pair of eyes and hands she provided. You have been naughty and full of energy this morning. Every time I looked away from you, you were either in the cat food or tormenting Emma. We took a quick trip to UPS today, and instead of walking next to me like I asked you to, you ran into a Pottery Barn and I had to follow you while holding our enormous coffee machine that was getting returned. Getting you in your stroller and car seat has been a serious workout, and you threw your cereal on the floor at breakfast. Now, after an hour of jabbering in your crib, I think you might finally be asleep. Hallelujah.
I assume when you wake up, you will want to talk more about where Da-well has gone. You are lucky to have such a wonderful cousin. She was loving and patient with you all week. She read you stories, watched you at home while I grocery shopped, and diligently made sure that you did not fall down any stairs, eat any stickers, or lose your stuffed animals on our many walks.
Danielle has a dog named Lola, and you must have internalized this information because although Lola did not come on the trip, you still yelled her name every day. "Wo-WA! "Wo-WA!" You also took a nap hiatus this week, and I think it's because your vocabulary is absolutely exploding. You are, however, still working on your pronunciation. While you can say "bubbles", you do not seem to be able to say "bye" and instead tell everyone to "die" when they leave.
I took you to a French lesson in the park this week. It was my lesson, but I wanted you to be there to hear the language I am hoping you will eventually learn. Except that every time I speak French to you at home, you look at me and say, "No."
Since you are so amusing, I've caved in and started a Twitter page where I am recording the things you do and say. It's a little hard to explain your antics in 140 characters, but we're going to give it a try.
Love,
Mom
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Full-Time Mom
Dear Scarlett,
We are on Day 4 of me being your full-time-stay-at-home mom, although we try very hard not to stay at home. This week we've gone swimming and shopping (new leg warmers for you), ridden a carousel, listened to stories at the library, and visited the ducks and squirrels at Stow Lake. It turns out you haven't seen a lot of squirrels in your life, because you think they say "meow."
It's been a bit of a rough time since we returned from vacation; you were jetlagged and teething. I can't wait until this teething thing is over. Dad and I worried over you every night last week, giving you medicine and holding you while you cried. A couple of times, I tried to bring you back to bed with us, but forget it. Our bed is like a playground to you. As soon as you got in, all memory of pain disappeared, and you just wanted to sing and hang from the headboard. Dad and I were totally exhausted and one morning at breakfast as we just sort of stared at each other, he said, "So. This is what vacation feels like now."
You are finally feeling better and sleep is getting back on track. This has turned you into a much nicer baby, the one who wants to kiss everything. One morning at breakfast, you fed yourself oatmeal with a spoon. You do this frequently, but never quite as slowly as that day. You spooned the oats up individually, and then started kissing the raisins before eating them. It was a long meal. Today when I was holding you before naptime, you kept interrupting my song to kiss me. If you like a book, you will kiss it. If you like a stuffed animal, you will kiss it. If another child tries to hug or kiss you, you announce "NICE."
Dad bought you this absolutely awful Purdue Pete doll when we went to West Lafayette, Indiana to visit his former university. Purdue Pete yells "You're a Boilermaker!" and then plays the Purdue fight song. You can't seem to get the button to work on your own, so you constantly hand him over after each 5-second song and make us do it. Then you kiss Pete ("MWAH!") and dance until he's done.
We've started swim classes again, and you suddenly love them. You've turned into a complete water baby, after time in the lakes of Wisconsin and Indiana. A couple of nights ago, I heard you around 11pm shuffling in your crib. "Wawa?" you asked a few times. I thought you might be thirsty, but you quieted down quickly, so now I think you were just dreaming of the lakes.
It's probably wrong that one of my favorite things lately involves you falling. But whenever you trip or stumble, you stand up indignantly, shake your finger at the floor, and say "NoNoNO!"
The one thing I might change if I had the ability is your nap schedule. You're doing about 40 minutes a day. I have friends whose kids nap for 3 hours. 3 hours! Imagine what I could get done. It turns out 40 minutes wasn't even enough time to clean up the kitchen and write this blog post.
So I'll end here and go get you.
Love,
Mom
We are on Day 4 of me being your full-time-stay-at-home mom, although we try very hard not to stay at home. This week we've gone swimming and shopping (new leg warmers for you), ridden a carousel, listened to stories at the library, and visited the ducks and squirrels at Stow Lake. It turns out you haven't seen a lot of squirrels in your life, because you think they say "meow."
It's been a bit of a rough time since we returned from vacation; you were jetlagged and teething. I can't wait until this teething thing is over. Dad and I worried over you every night last week, giving you medicine and holding you while you cried. A couple of times, I tried to bring you back to bed with us, but forget it. Our bed is like a playground to you. As soon as you got in, all memory of pain disappeared, and you just wanted to sing and hang from the headboard. Dad and I were totally exhausted and one morning at breakfast as we just sort of stared at each other, he said, "So. This is what vacation feels like now."
You are finally feeling better and sleep is getting back on track. This has turned you into a much nicer baby, the one who wants to kiss everything. One morning at breakfast, you fed yourself oatmeal with a spoon. You do this frequently, but never quite as slowly as that day. You spooned the oats up individually, and then started kissing the raisins before eating them. It was a long meal. Today when I was holding you before naptime, you kept interrupting my song to kiss me. If you like a book, you will kiss it. If you like a stuffed animal, you will kiss it. If another child tries to hug or kiss you, you announce "NICE."
Dad bought you this absolutely awful Purdue Pete doll when we went to West Lafayette, Indiana to visit his former university. Purdue Pete yells "You're a Boilermaker!" and then plays the Purdue fight song. You can't seem to get the button to work on your own, so you constantly hand him over after each 5-second song and make us do it. Then you kiss Pete ("MWAH!") and dance until he's done.
We've started swim classes again, and you suddenly love them. You've turned into a complete water baby, after time in the lakes of Wisconsin and Indiana. A couple of nights ago, I heard you around 11pm shuffling in your crib. "Wawa?" you asked a few times. I thought you might be thirsty, but you quieted down quickly, so now I think you were just dreaming of the lakes.
It's probably wrong that one of my favorite things lately involves you falling. But whenever you trip or stumble, you stand up indignantly, shake your finger at the floor, and say "NoNoNO!"
The one thing I might change if I had the ability is your nap schedule. You're doing about 40 minutes a day. I have friends whose kids nap for 3 hours. 3 hours! Imagine what I could get done. It turns out 40 minutes wasn't even enough time to clean up the kitchen and write this blog post.
So I'll end here and go get you.
Love,
Mom
Monday, August 29, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
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