Friday, March 23, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Almost TWO
Dear Scarlett,
You are turning two tomorrow. To commemorate this important event, I thought I would give you an idea of what you do on your average day as an almost-two-year-old:
6:40am: Wake up, yelling Mommy Hair Down!!
6:45am: Climb into bed with Mom and Dad and tell us that you are a kitten or gorilla or meerkat or dragon. Make appropriate animal/fantasy creature noises. Sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
7am: Demand, quite suddenly, to go into the kitchen to listen to Animal Playground, your new favorite CD. Say things during breakfast like "I eating breakfast." and "Good morning Emma. Emma in the kitchen!" Sing. Tell Daddy bye-bye long before it is time for him to go, leaving him slightly insulted. Put cereal bowl on your head and explain that it is a hat.
7:30am: Chase the cats.
7:35-7:36am: Timeout for throwing Smokey.
7:40am: Play with puzzles. Dump all the pieces to at least 7 puzzles on the floor and then stand up and say "What happened here?"
8am: Back in Mommy's bed to read books before swim class. Halfway through any given story, grab the book out of Mom's hands and say "By self." Flip through the pages and ask "Who's that?" about every single illustration.
8:30am: Declare undying interest in going to swim class, but when it's time to get ready, announce you are staying home.
9:45am: Swim class. Teacher Nick puts on your goggles. Teacher Ben teaches you how to paddle. You yell "No fear" and jump into the water from a standing position instead of sitting like you are supposed to.
11am: Go out for brunch with Mom. Devour 2 entire pancakes the size of a dinner plate, plus a piece of cheese, a pumpkin banana pouch and some strawberries.
Noon: Ask if Daddy can come over.
1pm: Go into crib for nap. Sing for 45 minutes. At one point, I hear you fake crying and then saying "It's ok water. You bumped your head, water." Presumably you are saying this to the water cup you refuse to sleep without.
1:45pm: Stop singing and start yelling Mommy Hair Down!!
2pm: Fall asleep.
2:35pm: Wake up. Yell Mommy Hair Down!! for 15 minutes while Mom listens, secretly hoping you will fall back to sleep. You don't.
3pm: Go for a walk on Haight Street. Stop into your favorite store, The Cannabis Company, and spin around for a few minutes to hip hop. The store manager is used to this. Tell Mom that you are listening to "kitty cat music."
4pm: Playground. The swings are your favorite and you will sit in one the entire time we are at the park. Slides are suggested. You have a visceral reaction and remain in the swings.
5:30pm: Dinner. Though you have had several snacks, you eat a plate of couscous with peas, garbanzo beans, and cottage cheese. Request bunny crackers, but you hid them somewhere earlier so you have to eat normal shaped graham crackers instead. A minor tantrum ensues, but you gain control pretty quickly.
6:30pm: Fairy Tales with Dad in "Mommy bed." Count to ten, leaving out seven (every time) and ending with Big Fat Hen. Brush teeth.
7pm: Bed. Request that Dad sings the quintessential bedtime song Miss Mary Mack, which he doesn't know, so Mom comes in for a cameo. Dad then sings Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head and Here Comes the Sun and slowly backs out of the room.
Silence
7:15pm MOMMY HAIR DOWN!!
7:30pm Real silence. Dad opens a bottle of wine and gets two glasses.
We love you, big girl.
Mom
You are turning two tomorrow. To commemorate this important event, I thought I would give you an idea of what you do on your average day as an almost-two-year-old:
6:40am: Wake up, yelling Mommy Hair Down!!
6:45am: Climb into bed with Mom and Dad and tell us that you are a kitten or gorilla or meerkat or dragon. Make appropriate animal/fantasy creature noises. Sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
7am: Demand, quite suddenly, to go into the kitchen to listen to Animal Playground, your new favorite CD. Say things during breakfast like "I eating breakfast." and "Good morning Emma. Emma in the kitchen!" Sing. Tell Daddy bye-bye long before it is time for him to go, leaving him slightly insulted. Put cereal bowl on your head and explain that it is a hat.
7:30am: Chase the cats.
7:35-7:36am: Timeout for throwing Smokey.
7:40am: Play with puzzles. Dump all the pieces to at least 7 puzzles on the floor and then stand up and say "What happened here?"
8am: Back in Mommy's bed to read books before swim class. Halfway through any given story, grab the book out of Mom's hands and say "By self." Flip through the pages and ask "Who's that?" about every single illustration.
8:30am: Declare undying interest in going to swim class, but when it's time to get ready, announce you are staying home.
9:45am: Swim class. Teacher Nick puts on your goggles. Teacher Ben teaches you how to paddle. You yell "No fear" and jump into the water from a standing position instead of sitting like you are supposed to.
11am: Go out for brunch with Mom. Devour 2 entire pancakes the size of a dinner plate, plus a piece of cheese, a pumpkin banana pouch and some strawberries.
Noon: Ask if Daddy can come over.
1pm: Go into crib for nap. Sing for 45 minutes. At one point, I hear you fake crying and then saying "It's ok water. You bumped your head, water." Presumably you are saying this to the water cup you refuse to sleep without.
1:45pm: Stop singing and start yelling Mommy Hair Down!!
2pm: Fall asleep.
2:35pm: Wake up. Yell Mommy Hair Down!! for 15 minutes while Mom listens, secretly hoping you will fall back to sleep. You don't.
3pm: Go for a walk on Haight Street. Stop into your favorite store, The Cannabis Company, and spin around for a few minutes to hip hop. The store manager is used to this. Tell Mom that you are listening to "kitty cat music."
4pm: Playground. The swings are your favorite and you will sit in one the entire time we are at the park. Slides are suggested. You have a visceral reaction and remain in the swings.
5:30pm: Dinner. Though you have had several snacks, you eat a plate of couscous with peas, garbanzo beans, and cottage cheese. Request bunny crackers, but you hid them somewhere earlier so you have to eat normal shaped graham crackers instead. A minor tantrum ensues, but you gain control pretty quickly.
6:30pm: Fairy Tales with Dad in "Mommy bed." Count to ten, leaving out seven (every time) and ending with Big Fat Hen. Brush teeth.
7pm: Bed. Request that Dad sings the quintessential bedtime song Miss Mary Mack, which he doesn't know, so Mom comes in for a cameo. Dad then sings Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head and Here Comes the Sun and slowly backs out of the room.
Silence
7:15pm MOMMY HAIR DOWN!!
7:30pm Real silence. Dad opens a bottle of wine and gets two glasses.
We love you, big girl.
Mom
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Friday, March 2, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Several Sick Days for Scarlett Joan
Dear Scarlett,
You are on Day 5 of a fever and nasty cold. This means we have spent a lot of time at home, mostly in "mommy bed", where we get under the covers and I sing Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head over and over, which would probably be a better experience if I knew any of the words. Sometimes you request that I sing about balloons, so I sing the only song I know that involves balloons: 99 Red Balloons. This song is basically in German, so I make up the words. You don't seem to know the difference.
Unfortunately, the last couple of days have been even more unpleasant because I am sick, too, and Dad is also not feeling good. You and I did not leave the house today until 3pm when it became imperative to do a grocery store run. I had to talk you into going, then into putting on your shoes, then into getting in the car, then into getting out of the car at the store. None of this has anything to do with you being sick. It has to do with you being almost 2.
The upside to you being sick is that you are very cuddly and too tired to run into the street. I do enjoy our time snuggling. Today we even napped together in "mommy bed." Dad, by the way, takes serious issue with the name of the bed. "Who else sleeps in this bed?" he'll ask you. "Ummmm....Smokey," you reply. I'm not sure where the ummmm thing came from, but you now employ it before answering most questions. And it's true, Smokey does sleep in that bed. This is why our nap was over after 35 minutes, when he came in screaming about something and you woke up. Smokey is normally quiet unless you want him to be quiet, and that is when he screams. He is kind of an asshole in that way.
We've had a bunch of visitors lately. George, Donna, Lael and Avery were in town from Massachusetts. You adored the girls, who are now 11 and 8, and they obsessed over you. It was so much fun seeing them all and introducing you. The girls dressed you, read to you, and called you "Scouteroo." Even now, a week after they left, I'll hear you saying "No, Scouteroo. Avery say that." Then Ellie, Emerson and Ethan stayed with us for a night. It was great to see you reunited with your buddy Emerson. He walked into our house and you took immediate verbal inventory of what he was wearing. "Socks. Pants. Shirt. Sweatshirt. Zipper. Hiiiiii!" We went out for lunch to Little Chihuahua where Emerson impressed us by tucking right into a bean burrito, and then to the Randall Museum to make earthquakes and pat the rabbits. Most of the animals hid in their safe places when they saw you guys coming. I guess they've heard the rumors.
New favorite books include If You Give a Cat a Cupcake, My Rhinoceros, A Sick Day for Amos McGee, and Corduroy. Sometime in the last month or so you decided that you no longer sleep with stuffed animals or take them anywhere with you. This is remarkable, because it is so starkly different from life as it used to be. One day you just ejected everyone from your crib. "Moosie, go away. Doll, go away. Winkie, go away," etc. and they have not been invited to return. You did make a two-night exception for the Hello Kitty doll that Donna bought you.
You remain obsessed with your French Playground CD, but also have a newfound respect for Ray LaMontagne, who you call "Tane," and the band Gorillaz, who you only like because of their name. Today you told me that a little gorilla was in mommy bed and was going to get mommy. When I asked you what the gorilla was going to do, you started tickling me. Even when you're sick, you are a fun, funny girl.
I love you,
Mom
You are on Day 5 of a fever and nasty cold. This means we have spent a lot of time at home, mostly in "mommy bed", where we get under the covers and I sing Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head over and over, which would probably be a better experience if I knew any of the words. Sometimes you request that I sing about balloons, so I sing the only song I know that involves balloons: 99 Red Balloons. This song is basically in German, so I make up the words. You don't seem to know the difference.
Unfortunately, the last couple of days have been even more unpleasant because I am sick, too, and Dad is also not feeling good. You and I did not leave the house today until 3pm when it became imperative to do a grocery store run. I had to talk you into going, then into putting on your shoes, then into getting in the car, then into getting out of the car at the store. None of this has anything to do with you being sick. It has to do with you being almost 2.
The upside to you being sick is that you are very cuddly and too tired to run into the street. I do enjoy our time snuggling. Today we even napped together in "mommy bed." Dad, by the way, takes serious issue with the name of the bed. "Who else sleeps in this bed?" he'll ask you. "Ummmm....Smokey," you reply. I'm not sure where the ummmm thing came from, but you now employ it before answering most questions. And it's true, Smokey does sleep in that bed. This is why our nap was over after 35 minutes, when he came in screaming about something and you woke up. Smokey is normally quiet unless you want him to be quiet, and that is when he screams. He is kind of an asshole in that way.
We've had a bunch of visitors lately. George, Donna, Lael and Avery were in town from Massachusetts. You adored the girls, who are now 11 and 8, and they obsessed over you. It was so much fun seeing them all and introducing you. The girls dressed you, read to you, and called you "Scouteroo." Even now, a week after they left, I'll hear you saying "No, Scouteroo. Avery say that." Then Ellie, Emerson and Ethan stayed with us for a night. It was great to see you reunited with your buddy Emerson. He walked into our house and you took immediate verbal inventory of what he was wearing. "Socks. Pants. Shirt. Sweatshirt. Zipper. Hiiiiii!" We went out for lunch to Little Chihuahua where Emerson impressed us by tucking right into a bean burrito, and then to the Randall Museum to make earthquakes and pat the rabbits. Most of the animals hid in their safe places when they saw you guys coming. I guess they've heard the rumors.
New favorite books include If You Give a Cat a Cupcake, My Rhinoceros, A Sick Day for Amos McGee, and Corduroy. Sometime in the last month or so you decided that you no longer sleep with stuffed animals or take them anywhere with you. This is remarkable, because it is so starkly different from life as it used to be. One day you just ejected everyone from your crib. "Moosie, go away. Doll, go away. Winkie, go away," etc. and they have not been invited to return. You did make a two-night exception for the Hello Kitty doll that Donna bought you.
You remain obsessed with your French Playground CD, but also have a newfound respect for Ray LaMontagne, who you call "Tane," and the band Gorillaz, who you only like because of their name. Today you told me that a little gorilla was in mommy bed and was going to get mommy. When I asked you what the gorilla was going to do, you started tickling me. Even when you're sick, you are a fun, funny girl.
I love you,
Mom
Monday, February 13, 2012
Announcement
Dear Scarlett,
There is big news in our family, and if someone were to ask you about it, here's what you would say: "Shishie, baby." Though it would take quite a talented translator to figure that one out, the message is that your beloved Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Rob are expecting a tiny cousin for you at the end of July. WE ARE THRILLED! I cried when I found out, after I finally figured out what they were talking about. I'm really slow about things like this, and the way they told us is as follows:
Shishie: Rob, do you want to tell Scout about her Christmas present?
Rob: Uh, do you mean her real Christmas present or her summer Christmas present?
Shishie: Her summer one.
Rob (with a very, very big smile): Scout, do you want to have a cousin?
I was so confused trying to figure out what a summer Christmas present is that I just looked back and forth at them like a codfish, and I might have kept doing that until the baby was born, but suddenly it sunk in. A baby! A cousin for you, a niece/nephew for me and Dad, a BABY for Shishie and Rob! Later this month we will find out if she gets to wear all of your old clothes or if he will have to buy all new clothes for himself.
Though you profess to know what's going on and tell us at regular intervals that Shishie has a baby in her belly, I know you have no clue what you're in for. This is likely going to be more radical than if Dad and I announced we were having a new baby. Shishie and Rob are people who belong to you, and sharing them with a smaller person may not be easy. Especially a smaller person who gets to live at their house. But I am confident that you will love your new cousin, and I am really hoping that you don't give him or her the same treatment that Emma got today, when you hauled yourself up onto my bed and announced "Step on Emma!" before doing just that. You had a timeout in your room, which you did not enjoy. Let's get this all out of our system now, ok?
Woo-hoo!!
Love,
Mom
There is big news in our family, and if someone were to ask you about it, here's what you would say: "Shishie, baby." Though it would take quite a talented translator to figure that one out, the message is that your beloved Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Rob are expecting a tiny cousin for you at the end of July. WE ARE THRILLED! I cried when I found out, after I finally figured out what they were talking about. I'm really slow about things like this, and the way they told us is as follows:
Shishie: Rob, do you want to tell Scout about her Christmas present?
Rob: Uh, do you mean her real Christmas present or her summer Christmas present?
Shishie: Her summer one.
Rob (with a very, very big smile): Scout, do you want to have a cousin?
I was so confused trying to figure out what a summer Christmas present is that I just looked back and forth at them like a codfish, and I might have kept doing that until the baby was born, but suddenly it sunk in. A baby! A cousin for you, a niece/nephew for me and Dad, a BABY for Shishie and Rob! Later this month we will find out if she gets to wear all of your old clothes or if he will have to buy all new clothes for himself.
Though you profess to know what's going on and tell us at regular intervals that Shishie has a baby in her belly, I know you have no clue what you're in for. This is likely going to be more radical than if Dad and I announced we were having a new baby. Shishie and Rob are people who belong to you, and sharing them with a smaller person may not be easy. Especially a smaller person who gets to live at their house. But I am confident that you will love your new cousin, and I am really hoping that you don't give him or her the same treatment that Emma got today, when you hauled yourself up onto my bed and announced "Step on Emma!" before doing just that. You had a timeout in your room, which you did not enjoy. Let's get this all out of our system now, ok?
Woo-hoo!!
Love,
Mom
Saturday, February 11, 2012
A February letter
Dear Scarlett,
You are at a sleepover at Aunt Shishie and Uncle Rob's tonight. It's weird that you're not here, and Dad and I realized that this is definitely a first. We've both spent nights away from you, but we've never spent a night in the house without you. The first thing I did after we dropped you off was take a nap. Then I vowed that it was high time to write a blog post about your recent activities, since I can hardly claim to not have the time to do it.
Since you go to bed at 7pm, it's not really the freedom of tonight that I'm looking forward to. But I'm very excited to sleep in tomorrow, and even if I do end up waking up early, I can't wait to drink coffee and read the paper and listen to something other than your French Playground CD, which is the first thing that you demand each morning. "Dance French Playground!" Sometimes, on a rare morning, you request Paul Simon.
You talk incessantly, unless you are concentrating on one of your puzzles ("cuzzles") or playing with my iPad (which you're not technically allowed to do, but you seem to know how to turn it on and launch any number of apps, including the Photobooth, where you look for pictures of "Baby Scout.") Your biggest new thing is spelling. Any time you see any writing, be it on a welcome mat or a street sign, you tell us that it says "S-T-O-A-A." This is how you think your name is spelled. You also sing entire songs now, including the ABC's, though you often trail off in the middle and it sounds more like the DDD's. "Meow, meow purple cat" is another favorite, sung to the tune of Baa Baa Black Sheep. You made this one up on your own.
Swim class and music class are still a blast, especially swim. You are very close to getting your green ribbon, an award bestowed to any kid who can swim from the edge of the pool to a floating island about 6 feet away. You can do this already, but you refuse to paddle. You just reach your arms straight out and kick like crazy. Then you leap off the island and come back. This impresses other moms in the class, and one of them said you have no fear. So now while you're leaping and swimming around, you yell "NO FEAR!"
We're still having some trouble getting you to listen to us when we say no, and I suppose this is because you are a toddler. Your latest infraction is loving the cats just a little too much. Your little face lights up when they come into a room. "Smokey, kitchen!" you'll say, delighted. "Emma, hug you!" is another one, as you press your entire body against her. When Emma gets up to run away, which she does EVERY TIME you come near, you run down the hall after her, yelling "Chase you, Emma!" I tell you that Emma doesn't like this, but it doesn't seem to sink in. The other day I found you in the living room, pushing Smokey into the couch and telling him, "Smokey, carry you. Change you diaper."
Nonnie and Pops were here at the beginning of the year, and Nonnie also spent the first week of February with us. She and Shishie and I took an all-day cooking class in North Beach one day, and you and Nonnie and I spent lots of time exploring the city. We continue to try to get Nonnie and Pops to move to San Francisco, and they continue to say no. But I think we're wearing them down. Just keep being cute.
I love you,
Mom
You are at a sleepover at Aunt Shishie and Uncle Rob's tonight. It's weird that you're not here, and Dad and I realized that this is definitely a first. We've both spent nights away from you, but we've never spent a night in the house without you. The first thing I did after we dropped you off was take a nap. Then I vowed that it was high time to write a blog post about your recent activities, since I can hardly claim to not have the time to do it.
Since you go to bed at 7pm, it's not really the freedom of tonight that I'm looking forward to. But I'm very excited to sleep in tomorrow, and even if I do end up waking up early, I can't wait to drink coffee and read the paper and listen to something other than your French Playground CD, which is the first thing that you demand each morning. "Dance French Playground!" Sometimes, on a rare morning, you request Paul Simon.
You talk incessantly, unless you are concentrating on one of your puzzles ("cuzzles") or playing with my iPad (which you're not technically allowed to do, but you seem to know how to turn it on and launch any number of apps, including the Photobooth, where you look for pictures of "Baby Scout.") Your biggest new thing is spelling. Any time you see any writing, be it on a welcome mat or a street sign, you tell us that it says "S-T-O-A-A." This is how you think your name is spelled. You also sing entire songs now, including the ABC's, though you often trail off in the middle and it sounds more like the DDD's. "Meow, meow purple cat" is another favorite, sung to the tune of Baa Baa Black Sheep. You made this one up on your own.
Swim class and music class are still a blast, especially swim. You are very close to getting your green ribbon, an award bestowed to any kid who can swim from the edge of the pool to a floating island about 6 feet away. You can do this already, but you refuse to paddle. You just reach your arms straight out and kick like crazy. Then you leap off the island and come back. This impresses other moms in the class, and one of them said you have no fear. So now while you're leaping and swimming around, you yell "NO FEAR!"
We're still having some trouble getting you to listen to us when we say no, and I suppose this is because you are a toddler. Your latest infraction is loving the cats just a little too much. Your little face lights up when they come into a room. "Smokey, kitchen!" you'll say, delighted. "Emma, hug you!" is another one, as you press your entire body against her. When Emma gets up to run away, which she does EVERY TIME you come near, you run down the hall after her, yelling "Chase you, Emma!" I tell you that Emma doesn't like this, but it doesn't seem to sink in. The other day I found you in the living room, pushing Smokey into the couch and telling him, "Smokey, carry you. Change you diaper."
Nonnie and Pops were here at the beginning of the year, and Nonnie also spent the first week of February with us. She and Shishie and I took an all-day cooking class in North Beach one day, and you and Nonnie and I spent lots of time exploring the city. We continue to try to get Nonnie and Pops to move to San Francisco, and they continue to say no. But I think we're wearing them down. Just keep being cute.
I love you,
Mom
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)