averie lucia rocks . . .

. . . le ballet

2011-09-28T18:36:00.000-04:00

Finally, she's a ballerina. More on the wonder of this new adventure later.
For now, here's adorable-in-pink ...

... words, words and more words

2011-08-31T15:39:00.007-04:00

Today, the original baby-adorable will speak for herself.

On proper nouns:
The name of her black bear is Adeline Jewel.

The name of her boy baby is Errol Ridley*.

The name of her first baby is Crawlia. The name of her second baby is Shyla. Both are girls.

The name of her favorite place for french fries and horse-watching: Five Man Burgers.

On her baby sister:
I eat meat. But Iwah doesn't eat meat. She's not a carnivore yet.

Iwah is tired of being wakened, Mama. she wants to be asleep.

No, no, Isla. You can't be in that room unless a grown-up or a big sissy is in there. Because you know what's in there? A whole bunch of choking hazards. And you know what you'll do? (Picking her baby sister up and half-carrying, half-dragging her back into the 'safe-zone') You'll go in there and you'll pick up those choking hazards and you'll put them in your mouth and then you'll choke. So you just have to stay out here.

Iwah, grab the leash. Come on, Iwah, grab the leash. There you go. Ok, come on pup. Hold on, Iwah.

On fashion:
But I don't wear jammie bottoms , Mama. I only wear dresses and skirts and gowns.

On Architecture:
Mama, I'm trying to build grandpa. I'm building him out of a cheerio and another cheerio. It's hard to build grandpa because he's very very big. Boys are big and girls are little. Mama? is Dadoo big? Mama? Is mama little?

On picking up her toys by herself while Dadoo rubs Mama's back:
But I'm so sick and my back is weak.

On kindergarten:
Oh Yay! It's kindergarten day!

On counting using the counting blocks:
Woo-hoo, mama! This is so cool!

On affection:
I love you, too, Mama. But you know who I love best of all? Dadoo. Yeah. And you know who else I love? Poosie-pants. She's so cute, isn't she mama? And she does funny things.

Random quotes:

Mama, we have tiny wittle necks. Mama, we can't see very far because we are not giraffes. Giraffes and brachyosaurus-es have verwee wong necks, so they can see far.

Mama, I need a band aid on my lip. I bit my lip and I need a band aid on it. And on here and here, too.

Mama? I'm wetting it catch on my tongue so it doesn't get on my band aid. Because it always gets wet and it can't go. I'm so glad I have a band aid. But, one day it will be all healed.

Watch this, Mama. I'm gonna suck it all up.

Tell me a story, Mama. Tell me about Jesus.

------------------

**We-the-parents reserve the right to utilize the name Errol Ridley in any form for any potential future offspring. We think this is a pretty cool name and are super impressed that the baby-adorable chose it for her baby.

. . . pretty

2011-08-12T16:47:00.004-04:00

... sweet nothings

2011-07-09T09:57:00.009-04:00

As our adorable grows, we-the-parents hear more and more and more words coming from her still small lips. The past tense almost always has the '-ed' suffix attached these days, and a majority of the time, she gets the application right: "colored" for what she did to the page in that book, for example. Sometimes she still says things like, "when I was a baby, Mama, and I swim-ded in your tummy, did you hear me?", and those times are such sweet reminders of the baby-ness that is all but gone.

Every time someone tries to correct her "Dungo" for "Dumbo", Mama secretly (well, not so secretly now, but you get the point) wants to slug them for nearly erasing the last bit of itsy from her four-and-one-third-year-old's vocabulary. We hold on to and deliberately mispronounce words like "post-guard" because we know that soon all that pronunciation will be correct. It's not like journalism and english have anything against correct, but rather that our hearts weren't prepared-ed for how much we would love the soft sounds of almost-got-it-right.

Along with the sweet sounds of this growing grammar, our ears of late have been pleasantly pummeled with sweet words. They come out of the blue, and in a manner that implies she must've been thinking about them, even though we-the-parents are caught unawares. Take two nights ago when the family was driving home after a big lake-walk and our big-girl-Bee spotted what she now calls "an aircraft!!!!" flying against the sunset.

"It's an aircraft!!!! Look, Mama! Look, Dadoo! Can you see it? It's a Chinook!", and then, "Dadoo, you and I are really good spy-ers ... (brief pause as she loads a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, processes the cold on her tongue and swallows, meanwhile, Dadoo in the driver's seat seems ready to protest the description when he's interrupted by the completion of the tiny one's thought) ... of aircraft. Good job, Dadoo!" (Dadoo says, "Thank you, Averie!")*

Or, take for an additional theorem proof, her remarks to Mama even earlier that same evening: "Mama," she said, thoughtfully spearing a strawberry with her fork, "I love your pretty hair, and I love the color of your eyes."

And every night, after reading time with Mama, she lies in her bed, snuggled in with at least seven of her 'darlings' who, along with her are all wrapped up in her favorite afghan, and says with the most serious of faces, "Mama, remember this, ok? Remember this: tell Dadoo, and tell him woudwy, Mama, because he can't hear good, tell Dadoo, the he has to come IN to check on me, and he has to come all the way into my room, and when he asks me if I am asleep, and if I say 'yes' or 'no' then he will lay by me. Ok, Mama? Tell Dadoo. Tell him to remember this, ok?" She follows it with a soft "I wuv you, Mama" and that Mama's heart is fully melted. Every single time.

These little murmurings aren't confined to the ears of the household grownups. She also wraps them around her baby with whispers of, "Oh, Iwah, I'm so glad you were borned out of Mama's tummy!" and "I kiss your wittle baby wips, Iwah!" and "I wuv you, Iwah! You're such a big girl, wittle naughty-pants!"

It's not the only kind of speech we hear, of course. But this kind of language makes up the majority of our conversations with our girl, and for this we are so thankful. It makes the times when we hear the less-than-sweet easier to bear and easier to chasten.

Sweetness pictured below, if you're wondering what kind of sugar has wrapped up our hearts.

*Nevermind that this short sweetness was followed with "But remember, Dadoo. I am better at seeing far than you are, because you can't see very far, but I can. Remember this, Dadoo."

. . . the return of the glamorous, pool edition

2011-06-04T10:00:00.005-04:00

Our girl-adorable is still glamorous. This year, she picked out her own bathing suit. Usually, Mama picks them out and goes for something cute, covering, and UVA/B protective. Sophisticated is not usually part of the mix, because, well, Mama's first baby is only four.

But this year, as her mama was browsing suits online at our favorite swim shop, Bee was browsing right beside her on the couch. And suddenly, she knew the one she wanted. Mama liked it, too, but thought it was strange that her baby-girl said she wanted that particular one, and so she asked her baby repeatedly, 'Are you sure?' and 'What about this one?'. Bee emphatically, decisively replied that she wanted 'That one, Mama. I want that one. With the white roses on it.'

'Ok,' said Mama as she clicked on it to make the purchase. And then, unbelievably, it was gone! Some of you may have heard how Mama emailed customer service and then called multiple stores in the city searching for the suit, which had apparently sold out online right as we were shopping. Customer service located it for us at a store in New York City, but the one we finally purchased came from a search on good ol' ebay.

It arrived, and Bee could hardly wait to get it washed before wearing it. Thankfully, her Dadoo managed to get her pool set up right about the time it came out of the dryer and the glamorous girl was able to enjoy the first splash of the season in style. Here she is catching some ripples in her new suit.

Could she be the cutest thing you've seen yet???

. . . the interrogative

2011-05-16T13:24:00.003-04:00

Today.

Mama: 'Averie, please don't ask Mama "why" about everything.'

Averie: 'Why, Mama? Why can I not ask "why" about everything?'

. . . four, and then some.

2011-04-16T10:21:00.012-04:00

This is a three-year-old girl.

This is what a three-year-old girl looks like on her last day as a three-year-old girl. And now, she's four.

Her less-than-fabulous mama didn't throw her a big party, but her so-awesome-he-rocks-too-Dadoo planned the perfect surprises for her and invited her Mimi and Grampy to come all the way from North Carolina and her Auntie and Uncle to come all the way from Mississippi (Eagles are FIERCE) to help celebrate.

Our sweet girl spent her last days as a three-year-old playing all her favorite games, eating all her favorite foods, and visiting all her favorite parks with her mama, dadoo, her baby sis, NC-grandparents, and her Auntie & Uncle. It was two weeks of cake, cupcakes, ice cream, multi-colored sprinkles and more cake: sweet on so very many levels.

The sweetest of all was our precious four-year-old. Here she is on the 4th anniversary of her birth. Oh how we all love her.

. . . her first hair cut

2011-01-14T15:46:00.005-05:00

Nearly four years after her birth, the baby-adorable got a haircut. Mama nearly fainted, but managed to persevere through to the end. Averie was ecstatic, even though her mother would not cut off as much as she requested. Dadoo, ever the photog for these family events, captured the before and after. Mama's thinking it may need a little evening up after her next hair-wash.

Before:

Surveying her new do:

The After:

... the last day of 2010

2010-12-31T14:37:00.007-05:00

It's officially the end of the year. Well, nearly. It's officially the last thirty-seventh minute past two in the afternoon of the year of our Lord, two thousand ten. Funny how typing that leads one to recall that there's only one 2:37 p.m. per day, ever. And how we've already passed three hundred sixty-five of them (and way more if we're counting life ages) that will never return. But, that's not the plot of the post. Because it's the last day of the year, the last afternoon of the year, the last few hours of the year our baby-adorable transitioned from two to three.

It's been a fast year for we-the-family, and it's been a good year. As our dear Dadoo reminds us often, our trials have been far fewer than our blessings. And our blessings have been great.

Our three-year-old girl is really that: a girl. She's not our tiny baby in any way anymore. She walks, runs, climbs and jumps like a big girl. She talks, laughs and sings like a big girl. She even manages her boo-boos like a big girl, trying so hard to talk herself out of any tears. She reasons like a big girl and in such a grown up manner that we often forget she is still just three.

The biggest events of the year for her, in no particular order were her trip to Disney World and the birth of her baby sister. She still thanks us every day for taking her to Mickey's place. And the other night, she made a special thanks and appeal to her Dadoo:

Averie: Dadoo, thank you for taking me to Disney World.
Dadoo: Averie, you're welcome.
Averie: Dadoo? You can do it again whenever you like.
Dadoo: Um, okay, Averie.

Most of the time, she really loves her baby sister. This morning, she directed her sweet remarks to her Mama:

Averie: Mama, I'm so glad Iwah came out of your tummy.
Mama: Yes, me too, Averie. I'm glad, too.
Averie: Yeah, she's a sweet wittle baby. (to Isla) Aren't you, Iwah?! Aren't you? Yeah, a sweet wittle baby!
Isla: *big, shiny smiles with big shiny eyes at her sweet big sister*

Today, the big girl is skipping naptime and sitting right next to her typing Mama as we share time alone in our playroom, eating semi-sweet chocolate chips and Nemo fruit snacks and watching the Thomas movie she got for Christmas, while 'her baby' naps. Her tiny arms are bare and warm. Her hair smells sweet and clean, and this afternoon feels like a special gift, just for the two of us.

In a few hours, a new year will begin. And a few weeks after that, our three-year-old will turn four. It's a bittersweet thought ... the leaving behind of a year and the beginning of another, the reminder of things passed and past, the encouragement of things to be and become. It doesn't seem the same this year, not that any two years are, but still, as I sit here, first person, finishing a post nearly 5 hours after I started it (life with two), the night feels strange, and a little sad. I guess at the end of it, good years make it hard to close the door. And perhaps, just a bit, I'm not quite ready for the end of this one.

. . . a three-year-old-Christmas

2010-12-29T20:05:00.000-05:00

This was the year. This year. The year that our sweet Averie really understood the magic and beauty of the Christmas season. The year that we could see it in her eyes, and hear it in her voice and smile and laugh at the wonder of it all.

From gingerbread houses (she made three) to cookies (she made several dozen) and Christmas hymns (she loves 'O Holy Night') to carols (we had no idea she could identify 'Carol of the Bells' - and she can, be it played on strings or brass), from lights ("Wights! Mama! Look! It's multi-colored! That's my most favorite kind of sprinkles!") to lawn 'art' ("Dadoo! Look! A reindeer!"), from holiday movies to holiday art, she had a full and excitement-filled start to the Christmas season.

This year, she had her own 'wish list'. She added items to it frequently, and we-the-parents are fairly certain she didn't really understand the concept of the 'wish' part. This was evidenced multiple times (we thought) by how easy it was to pacify her through the toy aisles of any given store. Anytime she asked to 'have' something, we told her she could put it on her wish list. "Ok", she'd reply. "I want this on my wish list". And then she'd calmly put the item back in it's place on the shelf and keep moving. It worked like a dream. We were slightly worried that it might come back to bite us when she realized that the majority of the items she put on the list didn't make it under the tree (it was a REALLY big list), but we figured we'd cross that bridge later on.

Imagine our surprise when on Christmas morning, her first request was for her sister. Her second request was for some M&Ms with her cheerios. And her third request was to take off her jammies. For nearly an hour and a half after she woke up, she asked nothing about the gifts. Finally, sometime around ten a.m., she asked if she could open a present. When we told her yes, she squealed with glee, ran over to the tree, grabbed a tiny box from the bottom of the pile and placed it carefully into my hands. "Mama!" she shouted. "We got this for you, Mama! It's very special earrings for you! But don't tell because it's a surprise!" Imagine our hearts when we realized her first thoughts were for people other than herself.

And when she finally began to open up her very own presents, she stopped, content, at two. The very two she'd asked for most, and the first item on her wish list. The next hour saw her fully happy and fully occupied with those toys, unconcerned with the rest of her stash resting beneath the branches. And the rest of the morning continued much the same as it began ... and we-the-parents count ourselves very blessed.

Better than all the stuff of the season is this crazy joy. The hard stuff is still hard. The bad stuff, well, it's still bad. But the joy of seeing her see it all ... well, it's mushy and funny and happy and awesome and sappy and squishy and GOOD.

And just in case you think you've had your fill of adorable, here's proof you're not full yet. Our baby-girl-the-first-adorable on her fourth Christmas ...

. . . she just does.

2010-12-22T18:54:00.010-05:00

Rock that is. She's amazing and sweet, growing and small, smart and still learning. And she's still the tiny (though less so every day) adorable one we met nearly four years ago.

She's a wonderful big sister, taking time every day to take her little sister to 'baby school' which is located in our bathroom and takes place during mama's shower. Averie is the teacher, and Isla the pupil. Today they learned about monkeys, llamas and decorating. Averie decorated the bathroom with her pets 'just like you decorated for Christmas in my bathroom, Mama'.

Each morning she runs to 'wake' her sister, climbing as fast as she can up onto the bed and kissing and hugging the baby until the baby squeaks. Then she explains to mama how 'she wants out of her bunting, Mama' and 'you have a dirty diapie, Iwah? you do? Mama, she has a dirty diapie', all the while stroking her sister's head or holding her hands or poking her in the nose.

Each night, she and mama cuddle in bed. Averie requests the 'little bear song', and Mama always sings it. Averie asks to count in Spanish and in French, so we-the-nighttime-counters count. She asks to spell some words (the list usually includes 'mosquito helicopter', 'c-130' and 'jet plane'), so we spell. Then it's time to 'talk about functoowayshun marks', so mama explains the ins and outs of exclamation points and semi colons. Then it's time to cuddle and listen to the soothing sounds of her ocean aquarium, and yes, that's the same aquarium she had in her crib as a baby. Now it rests on her bed and she uses it like her own personal radio. Finally, it's time for her big girl reading light, a special big-girl surprise from Mama so the girl adorable can 'read' her books in the darkness of her room when Mama leaves. **

Her vocabulary continues to grow and her memory has improved along the same pace. She's able to pick up a new word very quickly and then use it appropriately at a later time. She's even able to recall for others where she heard that new word and how it was used at that particular time. Take for instance a recent visit from her Auntie and Uncle. Averie was explaining the terrible events of the days before their visit when her baby sister was spitting up blood and falling out of her bouncy seat. Her retelling of the story went something like, " ... and then Iwah was hanging out of her chay-er and mama came wunning out of the showah and she saw Iwah hanging on the fwoor and mama said oh cwap ...".

...

In other recent conversations ...

A few nights ago after leaving big-discount-chain-store:

Averie, holding her newly acquired hotwheels treat from Mama: Oh look! What kind is it, Mama?

Mama: It's a Chevelle.

Averie: Oh! A Chevelle! I love it! It looks kind of like a Charger. But, you know, it's got Volkswagon wheels.

Earlier this month, after hearing noises coming from her baby sister during tummy time:

Averie, laughing: Oh, Iwah! You have a burpie in your bum! You have a burpie bum, Iwah! Mama, Iwah has a burpie bum!

Mama: Yes, Averie, she does.

Averie, very seriously: But I don't have a burpie bum. I have a gassy bum.

Today:

Mama: Averie do you want me to read this Thomas book to you?

Averie: Oh, yes, Mama! It is the desire of my heart.

**Mama herself was often chastened for reading in bed at night when she was supposed to be sleeping. She remembers promising herself that she wouldn't prohibit nighttime books when she was a 'grown up'. Although she does realize the value of going to bed on time, she is bothered not one itsy bit by the knowledge that her sweet Bee falls asleep reading, just like she did and sometimes still does.

. . . George feeds Bill's bunnies

2010-10-27T16:56:00.009-04:00

That's the title Averie provided when asked what her mother should post about her. The following is the rest of her response.

"Iwah Meeway." (tran.: Isla Mireille) "Um, Ariel. Mama, can I wear a different dress? Can I wear my Cindalella dress. I think that's Dadoo. Mama, why can I not spill?"

So there's a lot of language going on, but it's more conversational these days, and much of it is made up. She makes up names for places and people, names for animals, names for pretend people, places and things, and includes all of these in her speech as if the rest of us are all in on the specifics of these made up lives.

The biggest change from our baby adorable's lips involves pronunciation. There is so much less of that baby-speak now. Nearly everyone she speaks to can understand her, and there is barely a need for a translator (mama) to intervene. Words like 'wadi' (Remy) don't even exist in her vocabulary any more, and we-the-parents are resisting any urges to correct the few remaining mispronunciations still in her oratorial bag. Right now, "fwirty" stands in for "thirty", but that's one in a handful left for her to learn.

All this talk is just one more reminder of how soon these days of smallness will be gone. We-the-parents want to hold on to every single one of them, as long as we can.

. . . it all by herself

2010-10-08T08:35:00.025-04:00

Big girls do lots of things. Big girls do them all by themselves. Big girls don't need any help. Except when they do.

'I can do it all by myself' is the phrase of the phase for fall two-thousand ten. "It" is nearly everything - from taking off her own jeans (over her shoes, no less) and zipping her own (hard-to-zip) hoodie to climbing any and every stair she encounters and getting her straws into the top of those plastic kid-cup lids - she can do "it" "ALL BY MYSELF!"

'I don't need any help' is a close second in competition for the girl's favorite sentence. Unfortunately, this secondary phrase is usually forced out through clenched jaw while her eyes begin drip tears and her small frame tenses in frustration. She's so young - too young to possess the experience-based understanding that there could be a different/better/easier/ way to accomplish the near-impossible task she's currently attempting.

It's almost as if she's trying to convince herself (there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place ...).

Seeing this frustration is difficult. More difficult is standing by, trying not to help, then trying to help, and being pushed away by those tiny, three-year-old hands as she sobs and struggles to do it on her own. Sometimes her success is a happy moment for her. (It's nearly always a relief for we-the-parents). Many times, she's just so exhausted from her efforts that she can't even recognize for herself that she actually accomplished the very thing she set out to do. Even knowing that this is part of her growing does not make it easier to watch.

This independence is a good thing; it means our sweet girl is growing up. It's also a sad thing; it means our sweet girl is growing up. Sometimes it's a hard thing - difficult for both parents and child. It's always an amazing thing, though, and we-the-parents are still in awe of how a person begins and becomes.

Other phrases heard this week ...

"I'm too busy to talk to Dadoo right now."

"But Mama, children always want to play!"

"I always like to go into the eating store to eat at it."

"No. I am the ONLY one who has to obey Mama."

" ... because he has to 'neigh' at them while they chuff past ..."

"Don't say 'ghostlight'. It's Mater and the Ghostlight."

"Can I watch Mater and the Ghostlight?"

. . . some cute

2010-09-09T15:29:00.004-04:00

Need a dose of adorable? Get yours below:

... big girl sleep with the aid of jelly beans

2010-08-20T09:41:00.009-04:00

Our sweet girl has been, most of the time, a pretty good sleeper. We've had our nights of unrest, but for the most part, we-the-parents have escaped the same kind of nighttime torment many of our poor friends have experienced with their children. We-the-parents, though speaking seldom of it, have always been thankful of this great mercy in our lives, conscious that it's a rare gift to have a child who goes so easily to sleep.

When we found out that our ~~Baby-Toddler-~~Preschooler-Bee would become a big sister to Bun, we-the-parents contemplated the ways that baby-adorable-the-first 'might-could' react to the introduction of the new family member. We read about tantrums and regression and tears and prepared ourselves for giving extra attention, having more patience and returning to the 'pull-ups' stage for a bit. And while we knew that there could be (and probably would be) times when our newborn's cries would wake our elder daughter, we did not anticipate that this family transition from three to four would influence the well-established sleeping habits of our three-point-five-year-old to such a great degree.

Bun's arrival didn't bring any tantrums*. Our sweet big sister was excited to meet her "new baby", and has not shown any of the typical symptoms associated with the addition of a younger sibling. Except one:

She is no longer willing to go to sleep. Mama should actually include the qualifier, "alone".

The tiny girl is absolutely willing to go to sleep with a friend. She'll go to sleep at her friends' house (**thank you Mrs. Beth for caring for our first baby while we had our second**). She'll go to sleep in the company of the entire family as we ride in the car. She'll go to sleep in her uncle's arms as he carries her from the carousel back to the bookstore. And she'll go to sleep at home, in her own bed even, as long as either her Mama or her Dadoo (though preferably her Dadoo) is cuddled up right next to her.

This unwillingness to fall asleep alone is not confined to the initial falling asleep, but extends to every falling asleep throughout the entire night, so that each time a plane, helicopter, tree-branch, motorcycle (thanks biker neighbors for your super loud cruising at eleven p.m., we love it, really), squirrel, dishwasher, ice-maker or whisper from her parents awakens her, she needs/wants one of us to crawl back in bed with her.

Though we'd struggled a tiny bit with this sleep thing before baby-the-second arrived, in the weeks preceding the birth, things had settled down a bit. Then, we brought the baby home, and things ceased to settle ... at least in the evening hours. Mama spends most of her evening hours awake feeding Baby-Bun, and Dadoo spends most of his evening hours awake, calming Baby-Bee and attempting to persuade her into long slumber.

Our success has been limited, like our sleep and our dwindling patience. Until the introduction of what some, more judgmental persons (who are obviously better parents) might call a bribe. We-the-parents call it desperate times, and thank heavens for William Schrafft or whoever created the jelly bean.

Big girls are polite, obedient, and rested. Big girls sleep all night long in big girl beds, all by themselves. Big girls eat big-girl-breakfasts of jelly beans, cheerios and occasionally, Pez . And we, ladies and gentlemen, are raising a big girl. A sweet, going to bed with less and less assistance kind of big girl who loves Jelly Belly beans in watermelon, bubblegum, blueberry and cherry. A big girl who, though lying awake and singing for an hour after we put her there, stays in bed, alone, all night.

Well, at least for the last few days. Still, it feels like we're closer to being back on a relatively normal sleep schedule, and we'll hold onto whatever hope we have right now. Because, as previously mentioned, it's desperate times in the sleep department. And we-the-parents are rapidly re-affirming the realities that:

a.) we are no longer in our twenties,

b.) we are much better and more coherent people when we get at least three hours of uninterrupted sleep in the evenings, and

c.) our tiny-bee is much happier and well-behaved when she, too, gets at least three hours of uninterrupted sleep in the evenings.

Hear, hear and hip, hip for the jelly bean! Long live the bean and the refreshing minutes of rest it affords! Hooray for our big girl! Hooray that she loves her little sister and is merely struggling with sleep and not some urge to beat up the baby. Hooray for big girls who go to sleep late, but sleep in a little later so Mamas get time for coffee. And blogging. *wink*

**We-the-parents do realize it's early days, and we're not counting any chickens at this time.**

. . . 26 days of sisterhood

2010-08-08T17:04:00.003-04:00

It's been three weeks and five days since our first tiny baby became a big sister. In just two more days, a near month will have passed since the arrival of baby sister. Life here is different and wonderful and lacking lots of sleep for the three eldest family members, big sis included.

Nights and days blur, no one has his/her own bed anymore and things that used to be relatively easy, (making and eating lunch, for example), are now more complicated and require a greater time commitment from all parties. Even our big girl, (who's really just a little, tiny girl, says mama) is taking more time to get through her daily routines (brushing her teeth, finding her shoes, drinking her juice, going to sleep).

It's still the hardest thing we've ever done. And it's still the best thing.

And our sweet, baby-adorable, now a dear little girl of three ('and a half, mama' she often reminds me), is the most precious big sister, bringing kisses and hugs and toys and comfort to the tiny baby who "came out of mama's tummy", as Averie informs anyone she deems in confusion over the arrival of her sister.

One of the best parts of every day is the morning, when big sister wakes up and asks first thing to see baby "Iwah". This is what that kind of love looks like.

. . . an educational conversation with Dadoo

2010-08-05T17:37:00.005-04:00

Life as a nursing mama provides lots of moments for sitting and listening. At chez-adorable, those listening-moments also provide lots of smiles. Take this afternoon's moment for example:

(Overheard from the mound of pillows in the ~~nursing room~~ bedroom while Dadoo and Averie are playing in the living room)

Averie: Dadoo, look! Look at this! Look at this fuzzy thing! Your leg! It has fur all over it.

Dadoo: Averie, that's hair. I have hair on my legs.

Averie: (puzzled) Why? Why do you have hair on your legs?

Dadoo: Well, that's the way God made me. (brief silence) Does that make sense?

Averie: Way-ul, yes. (Emphatically) But Dadoo, girls don't have that on their legs.

Dadoo: No, Averie. No they don't.

Mama: (Smile)

. . . a phrase or two

2010-07-12T20:00:00.001-04:00

Overheard ...

"We can't go to Ty's house because it's too late and it's raining out and there's a storm outside."

"It's a gown, Mama. We call it a day gown." (* As opposed to a "night gown" which is a new gift from Gram just for big girls. This statement in response to Mama's request that she not lift up her dress in public.)

"Around the bend, Rusty! Around the bend!"

"That's a power station. We neeeeeever, ever touch a power station. It will kill us."

"Yeah, we call it a red-tail-hawk. So, if you see another one like that, it's got little wings, so birds can fly when it's daytime. You know how the birds need to fly home because the moonlight is drying away the rain? But I don't see the moon because it's raining. So, tomorrow I have oranges. Can I just have one popsicle? It's ok Dadoo. We dip into the paint and we paint our eyebrows."

. . . 3 years, 3 months, 27 days

2010-06-16T13:50:00.011-04:00

In the flash of the last 8 months, our baby adorable turned three. She's officially just about three-and-a-quarter, and the reality of that seems impossible.

In the flash of the last 8 months, our tiny girl has gone from diapers to pullups to panties, and training cups to travel mugs to not needing or wanting that first morning milk. She's changed shoe sizes and pants sizes and grown an inch and a pound. Her hair is long, long, long. She walks (runs) everywhere and doesn't want to hold our hands except when something near her is loud. She talks about lots of things and asks a lot of questions and makes a lot of accurate observations. She sings and makes up her own songs. She laughs and makes up her own jokes. She lets us rinse the shampoo right out of her hair with no hesitation, no washcloth, no worries.

In the flash of the last 8 months, she's adapted to a lot of changes, learned how to write her name and added a million words to her speech. She dresses herself daily in a minimum of two different dresses. She even gets the buckle part right on her shoes ("I put the buckles on the outside, Mama!"). She pretends to sleep during naptime, but plays with her trains instead. She still doesn't eat much meat besides chicken, calamari and hamburgers, and she still loves sweet tea. She loves hotels and had a great time at Disney World.

In a few short weeks, she'll officially be a big sister to her very own little sister. She wants to name her 'donut' or 'fountain' or 'cloud'. She wants to teach her how to dig in the sand and how to walk and how to stand on one foot. She doesn't want her baby sister to sit in her chair or play with her trains or wear her new dresses. But she does want her baby sister to sleep in her bed.

As we-the-family near the day when our three becomes four, Mama still can't quite believe her tiny baby adorable is so grown. It did fly. It really, really did.

... a little rest

2010-05-26T22:34:00.010-04:00

Each time our girl crawls into her bed, for nap or nighttime, we-the-parents begin the countdown. It's the countdown to noise, running, comfort and disentanglement.

Our daily exercise in emergency response usually begins with the sounds of our tiny girl's cries, sometimes even screams. These cries coincide with the rapid approach of another noise: the oh-so-soothing sound (complete with accompanying vibration) of the military aircraft that fly in increasingly lower flight patterns over our home.

Ordinarily, the tiny one is fascinated by all things aeronautical. We love to drive after jets and Coast Guard choppers in the car, or run after them at the park. We stop everything during mealtimes to run to the back door and peek up through the trees to catch a glimpse of whatever the moment's flying object may be.

Except when it's time to sleep.

When it's time for sleep, be it a short nap or a full night's slumber, those same super-exciting flying chunks of metal become the ghost in the corner, the monster under the bed, the terror in the closet. When it's time for sleep, the sound (and feel) of these aircraft send our girl into panic, and us into high-speed rescue mode.

Lately, we've had more frequent fly-overs. Last night, in fact, more than six super loud flying machines passed our house in an hour. Each time the tiny one cried out, each time Mama raced across the house, each time there were more tired tears, and longer moments of comfort needed before those little arms would release Mama's neck.

Today, during naptime, same thing. In fact the first words our tiny one spoke as Mama went to rescue her from bed were, "Mama, something's always making noise out there and waking me up".

So this evening, we-the-parents prepared once again for the onslaught of aviation action. Except for some reason, Uncle Sam's flyboys are off duty this evening. We've only had the pleasure of one flyby. And this time, the girl did not awaken.

Perhaps it's sheer exhaustion. Perhaps she's getting used to them again. Whatever the cause, the small, sleepy girl is finally getting some rest. She's sleeping so hard, in fact, that when Dadoo went in to check on her, she didn't even move as he removed her safety supply of nighttime friends*: two Pez dispensers (one bunny, one clown, both empty and lying under her stomach), 3 race cars (Lightning McQueen, El Segundo, and Cheerios, also lying beneath her stomach) and 1 stuffed rabbit (in red evening coat with carrot, this too, lying under her stomach).

Sweet dreams.

*The nighttime friends supply was once down to a mere five count of soft, furry things. It now includes the aforementioned pez dispensers, race cars and rabbit, as well as the bigger Bunny Hop, the smaller Yellow Bunny, Cupcake the cat, Otter, Cinderella (yeah, hard plastic), Leopard, Owl, Baby, and Lion. Sometimes we also include Thomas, Percy and Toby (the trains) and depending on the night, Hermit (no misspelling) the frog. She keeps saying her bed is too small ...

. . . a quick panic, followed by dessert

2010-04-05T19:49:00.007-04:00

Dadoo & Averie in living room.

Overheard by Mama:

Averie: (Screaming) AHHHHHH! Uhhhhh! Oh No!
Dadoo: (Running out of kitchen) Averie, what's happened?
Averie: Ahhh! Mosquito! Mosquito! Mosquito! Oh no!
Dadoo: Well, that's a mosquito hawk. It's not bad. Remember, we like them.
Averie: Ahhhh! Ahhhh!

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Averie: Did you get it?
Dadoo: No.

Thwack! Thwack!

Averie: Did you get it?
Dadoo: No.

Thwack! Thwack! Bang! Thwack! Thwack!

Averie: Did you get it?
Dadoo: Yes.

Averie: You did?
Dadoo: Yes, Averie. Don't open the door, ok?
Averie: Oh, ok, Dadoo.

. . .

Later, at dinner:

Dadoo: Averie, would you like some cake?
Averie: Oh! Sure! Sure I would. It's in the kitchen. I saw it there. I better go check on it. You stay right here, ok? I'll be right back.

. . .
*Um, yes, it's been awhile. Life, etc. More soon. Well, hopefully.

. . . a serious face

2009-08-14T13:35:00.004-04:00

She is tiny, but she is fierce. No rain's gonna mess with her. Nope.

. . . blueberries at the park

2009-08-05T17:53:00.008-04:00

The park ... a blanket ... some blueberries ... and a pretty girl.

Summer, beautiful.

. . . a need for personal space

2009-07-23T14:19:00.005-04:00

This morning, at the sink.

Mama is spritzing the girl's curls with detangler, attempting to remove the stickiness leftover from last night's sucker.

Dadoo is wiping banana off the girl's cheeks and chin, leftover from this morning's breakfast.

The girl is wrapped up in her 'beauty cape', struggling against her parents and desperately trying to reach her ladybug toothbrush.

Mama: spritz, sprinz, spray, spray.
Dadoo: wipe, wipe, rub, rub.

Averie, (loudly, in frustration): "No guys! Stop washing me!"

We-the-parents: "Sorry, Averie. Mama and Dadoo are sorry."

. . . 808 days, 5 hours & 15 minutes

2009-05-08T13:11:00.006-04:00

That's 2 years, 2 months, 18 days, 5 hours and 15 minutes if you're counting annually.

Time flies. Babies grow. The tiniest girl is so grown-up that she doesn't even flinch when it's time for a shot. She stands a full 36 inches in her chucks and is nearly a bit less than a pound per inch (which just for the record is exactly where she should be according to our incredible pediatrician).

Her sentences take on more words each day. A few evenings ago, she walked over to her Dadoo who was searching under the bed for a flip-flop and matter-of-factly asked, 'What're-ya lookin' at, Dadoo?'

Though she's always talked with us and her favorite pals, she's starting to talk more with people she's less familiar with. She loves puzzles and play-dough and reading and listening to 'pretty music'. She knows how to work the photos on Dadoo's ipod, and she can count to ten (though she doesn't like the the smallest squared prime number).

She knows all her ABC's and mouths the words to many songs, though these days the only ones she'll really sing are the ones she makes up herself. She likes to read herself books, and she loves kissing Remy right on the mouth. He licks her back almost every time.

Some people say she looks a lot like Mama. Some days she does. But every day, her eyes are all Dadoo.

. . . a tomato

2009-04-11T14:04:00.007-04:00

La Petite Adorable loves to help Mama in the kitchen. She even has her very own apron so she can prep like a pro. The world's sweetest sous chef always washes the veggies properly so they're ready when it's time for chopping, and Mama was happy when the girl agreed to help out with Good Friday dinner.

Everything was going well. Green pepper washed - check. Red pepper washed - check. Tomato washed- check. Radishes, wa-wait. Where's that tomato?

Mama forgot how much her tiny girl loves tomatoes. Here's what it looked like when she was done.

Tomatoes. Yum.

. . . the beach

2009-04-06T14:24:00.003-04:00

Barefoot is better at the beach. Even when it's a little chilly. La Petite Adorable had a great time using her bucket and shovel at the beach this weekend, but her favorite part of the day was the minutes she spent throwing sand into the air, into her hair and everywhere. Needless to say, her bath that evening left our tub in much the same condition as the seashore. Very, very sandy.

***Yep. Photo evidence that the dirtiest place in the world is the inside of our daughter's shoes. How her socks get so icky on the bottom is beyond us. And yes, those are the world's cutest Vans courtesy of Auntie Sarah. Get your own copy here.

. . . the affirmative

2009-03-10T12:33:00.007-04:00

So much language. It's amazing to watch a person develop, and mama can sort of understand a bit of the fascination lots of folks have with science. The whole 'study-of' bit about growing up our baby-adorable brings new wonder to our days, along with a lot of laughter.

The word of the week is 'okay', though it's inflection is always in the vein of 'surprise' - as if the girl had just realized something, or just discovered the answer herself. Sometimes it's preceded by an 'Oh' or an 'Um' or some other such 'let-me-think-for-a-second' kind of vowel-consonant combination, but it is always said with a happy and sort of astonished smile. And it always means a happy 'yes'. We-the-parents like it.

Mama: "Averie, would you like a tomato?"
Averie: "Oh, okay!!! Yeah! May-toh, Mama!" (big smile)

Dadoo: "Averie, how about we go get a dry diaper and then wash hands?"
Averie: " Ummm. Okay!! Yeah! Okay, Dadoo! Okay! "(big smile)

Also overheard this weekend during a trip to the local wildlife center:

Dadoo: "We have to go fast, Averie. Can you walk faster?"
Averie: "No."
Dadoo: "Do you want me to carry you?"
Averie:" No."
Dadoo: "Ok, then, would you like to ride in the stroller?"
Averie: "No." (Pauses. Thinking) " Oh! I know! Run! Run, Dadoo!" (running ensues)

How cute is this? Oh! I know! It's the . . . well, of course, you know!

. . . lotsa language

2009-03-02T07:49:00.005-05:00

There are lots of new words here at Chez Adorable as our tiny toddler finds new ways to express herself and alert us to all that she sees and experiences.

A walk two weeks ago took we-the-family past a small, yappy dog's residence. 'Puppy!' the girl cried as the little, wildly-barking dog ran up to us. 'Chihuahua' said Mama as we continued our walk.

A walk a few days later took us past the same residence with the same little, wildly-barking dog. 'Kih-wah-wah! Kih-wah-wah!' the girl shouted as we continued our walk. 'Bye, bye, kih-wah-wah!' she said. "!!!!" said Mama & Dadoo to each other, speechless as we realized she remembered.

Other words, bigger words, words with more and more syllables are joining her vocabulary. 'Humidifier' is a recent favorite, along with 'negotiable' - as in 'Putting your jacket on before you go outside is non-negotiable'.

The biggest language change, though isn't just the sheer volume of new words the toddler is learning. It's more about the way she uses them. These days there are very few of those baby-type phrases spoken. These days, it's all about a multitude of words, all the ones she knows that are relevent to the current situation, pouring out into as many sentences as she thinks it takes to explain herself to us.

'Mama, Dadoo fix milk for Averie. Dadoo come see us milk.' ... 'Dadoo, one, two, three, four, jump! My turn!' ... 'Come on, Mama! Come on!' ... 'Dadoo! Open. In there. Now!' ... 'No! Other ones! Other ones! Heark ones!' ... 'Mama an' Dadoo, see? Wah-Wah (flower)!' ... 'Hi Wee-ull (Will, our neighbor)!'

And last night, a new line, more evidence that she's got stuff figured out:

Dadoo: (eyes tired, arms covered in spaghetti and cookie crumbs) - "Averie, we don't play with our food. Eat your cookie or I'll take it away. Do you understand?"

Averie: (mouth full of cookie, eyes shining) - Nods head. "Yeah." (In stronger, determined voice) - "No, Dadoo. Dadoo, I take it away. Now." (Cue small hand holding cookie stretching away from Daddo until cookie is out of his reach, meanwhile toddler's eyes gleam.)

Mama: (sits silently, hand over mouth, stunned by the mocking-bird voice of defiance coming from her tiny girl . . . wondering if Dadoo understoond what just happened, then realizing he didn't.)

Dadoo: (suddenly becoming more aware) - "What just happened?"

Mama: "Um . . ."

Averie: "All done. Get down. Now."

Fin

. . . Two

2009-02-23T10:32:00.008-05:00

It's hard for we-the-parents to believe that our tiny baby is now two. It's hard to believe that it's been that long, so many days, since the minutes we first held her and kissed her tiny head.

Our Mardi Gras girl was born at 9:18 a.m. on Fat Tuesday - a fitting date for parents who spent many a courting day in La Nouvelle-Orléans. Her arrival was the miraculous result of almost 3 years of hoping and waiting - a day of joy for us like none we'd ever had before.

She spent her 2nd birthday enjoying all of her favorite things - including having all three of her favorite snacks for breakfast: cheerios, animal crackers and 'bubble-bubbles' (goldfish). She watched Sam and Ty about ten times each ('watch Sam? watch Ty? watch babies, Mama?), and spent nearly an hour doing 'ark' with her crayons and stickers. She watched her beloved George so many times Mama can't remember, and had a special birthday lunch at Clary's before heading off to see the ducks at the park.

Later in the day, she opened cards (she loved this) and presents, 'talked' to her Aunties & her Gram & Grandpa G, and had a dinner of her favorite foods (mostly red): spaghetti, strawberries, tomatoes, sweet red peppers and grapes. And then there was cake.

Though she wasn't much of a fan last year, this year found our tiny girl shoving tiny handfuls of cake into her mouth. Cake was everywhere, just as it should be.

And just because it was her very special day, the girl got to play rock-star and stay up late with Mama and Dadoo so she could spend an extra bit of time watching . . . George.

The face of our tiny two:

**Photo of our newborn baby girl by our friend Tim.

. . . cupcakes

2009-02-14T11:14:00.003-05:00

After two years, the girl decides she likes cupcakes. At least, she likes the frosting.

Happy Valentine's Day!

. . . 'big girl' practice: round two

2009-02-11T08:15:00.005-05:00

We're all tied up here as we-the-family work toward the days of diaper-free living.
The current score:
Team Toddler - 1
Team Tee-tee - 1

Round one went to the girl who showed poise, endurance and good judgement in keeping the tee-tee in until the diaper was on.

Round two went hands down to the tee-tee, which showed strength, determination, and an amazing ability to spread . . . down the legs of the girl, down the back of the couch, and down the pants of the Dadoo who was sitting on said couch playing 'nigh-nigh, hop-hop' with the girl. Luckily for Mama, she was sitting on the floor and so avoided getting soaked.

The girl was not so happy, and wanted panties removed immediately. She seemed upset, and not quite sure what had happened. The tears stopped once she and Mama decided to get out her 'ruffle' jammies and watch George* for a few minutes before bed.

This morning while she was getting dressed, she asked to wear her 'pannies' but seemed to be ok with practicing wearing them later tonight.

The game continues. And it feels like progress. Yet it also seems a little bit like a disaster waiting to happen. Mama has a sneaking suspicion that the whole 'learning to potty' thing is going to involve just as much laundry as those early, newborn days. And a small, tiny, itsy part of her finds diapers to be such a convenient container for all the stuff she doesn't want to have to wash out of tiny clothes. It's a mixed bag to be sure.

...

*This George that we're watching is the 65th anniversary edition and it has a lot of stories on it - including some of the 'Frog and Toad' ones. The opening story, 'Curious George comes to America' shows the Man in the yellow hat practically stealing George from the jungle. Which is bothersome. Mama seems to remember that George was rescued from poachers . . . but she doesn't have the book on hand to check. Anyone know what the real story is here? Was George kidnapped?

. . . ribbons and candles

2009-02-10T11:48:00.004-05:00

Not very many days ago, mama's growing girl requested ribbons for her hair. Mama obliged, and raided her craft stash to find tiny satin ribbons for the toddler's tiny curls. Each day since, the girl eagerly awaits the adornment of her hair. Her most frequent request is for 'pink ones, mama! pink!'. Today, a ribbon in the hair wasn't quite enough. She needed one for her wrist as well. After she was sufficiently bedecked, she gathered her candles (battery operated, of course) for some moments of meditation on the (holy-cow-it-needs-to-be-swept) kitchen floor.

In other itsy news, the toddler wore her first pair of itsy panties last night. This big-girl practice run went extremely well with no accidents at all. She wore them for about 2 hours and even told mama that 'tee-tee coming! it's coming' in time for us to race to the potty. In truth, it wasn't coming, but it was good training for we-the-family. After her bath, the poor girl cried when we put her diaper on - she only wanted to wear her 'tiny pannies! no diaper!'. It broke our hearts. She recovered quickly once we agreed she could watch George before bed.

**Editors note: Original title edited to remove '& panties' for obvious reasons.

. . . self discipline

2009-02-07T09:22:00.003-05:00

This morning.

Dadoo and toddler are playing happily together, choosing outfits for the girl's magnetic 'paper' doll, building with blocks, bowling, jumping and shopping.

In the midst of the playing, there's a rules infraction (team toddler) and a warning (team Dadoo). Alas, the next minute sees repetition of said infraction, and so comes a calm explanation and the consequence:

'You didn't listen to Dadoo and now we have to put this toy away'.

The tiny toddler displays her traditional sad face as Dadoo removes toy. She turns to Mama and makes her traditional sad plea for intervention. Mama's reply is that we have to listen to Dadoo and do what he says. The girl nods. Looks sadder. And turns away from Mama.

'Tigh-out' she says. 'Tigh-out, tigh-out, Mama'.

And she walks herself over to her time out space. Where she sits down. On her own. And waits.

Good? Bad? Good?

. . . 25 things

2009-02-06T08:09:00.008-05:00

Right. It's not facebook. But it's a free country, and everyone has a right to post their own 25 things. Here's the baby-adorable's list:

1. Baby-adorable is almost two. Yes, two. Two years ago at this moment, mama was on mandatory bed-rest waiting, waiting, waiting for the girl to arrive. She didn't arrive for another fourteen days. It was a long wait.

2. As we-the-family near this second year milestone, we realize that our 'baby' is no longer such. And we are excited about how she's grown. And we are sad about how quickly she's grown. And we love her more than ever.

3. The sweetest girl talks a lot. This morning while getting dressed, she said, 'Mama, shoes on and watch George. Socks on and watch George.' After the socks and shoes were on, she sat down on the floor and said, 'Mama, sit down! Avie sit down, too, Mama.' More words come every day and every day she forms them into longer sentences. Lately, she can't talk enough of the 'Helicopter big, Mama. Helicopter orange an' white, Dadoo. Big. Up in sky'.

4. Baby-healthy eats her veggies. She loves peas and broccoli best, but also eats cauliflower, green beans, tomatoes, peppers and mushrooms with garlic. She does not like lettuce or radishes, but will eat spinach if it's cooked with lemon and garlic.

5. Like every other toddler, the tiny girl loves animals. She's especially loving her sea creatures bath tub animals. Last night during her bath she made sure she got them all clean. 'Wash cow's 'gi-nah, Mama. Wash dol-feen's bum, too.' ***

6. As you may have surmised from #5, the girl can name nearly all her body parts. We-the-parents didn't skip any, though we struggled with what to call the, ahem, lady parts. We decided to call them what they are. And she does.

7. Baby-polite is mostly good about using her manners. She most often forgets the word, 'please', but nearly always says 'thank you'. We-the-parents are working on demonstrating this more ourselves.

8. Averie loves shoes. She loves her black boots and will even wear them over her footed pajamas. She's started to request specific footwear in the mornings. Yesterday it was imperative that she wear her 'purple ones, Mama'.

9. She 'reads'. More accurately, she's memorized her books, and will sit on the floor and recite them to herself. She even laughs at the appropriate spots - especially the 'oops!' in Blue Hat, Green Hat.

10. Dadoo's ipod is a recent favorite and she will sit and listen to it as long as we let her. The earbuds are too big for her ears, and they fall out if she moves. When this happens, she always says, 'uh-oh song! uh-oh song!' until we realize the problem and put them back up to her ears. She still loves electronica and sometimes listens to a chill house mix before bed.

11. Another of her favorite toys is a stick she picked up in the yard with her Dadoo. It currently resides inside the house, next to the front door. She carries it around like a staff and is strangely very careful with it.

12. She likes to eat cheese, but has recently begun demanding that it be placed in the direct center of her flat, fingers-out, palm up hand. As soon as she stuffs one piece in her mouth, she extends her palm and taps it with the other hand, almost as if she's asking for some cash. We-the-parents laugh every time she does it.

13. Though she's never been a big fan of meat, we've recently discovered that she will eat nearly anything if it's covered in ketchup. Appropriately, "Chicken & ketchup" is now a menu staple here at Chez-bebe. A good thing for the protein department but bad timing with the recent mercury issues. The great news is that any red sauce passes as 'ketchup' in the world of our toddler, so we often have chicken and (red curry) ketchup, or (sausage) chicken and (tomato sauce) ketchup. This does not work with shrimp.

14. Baby-freshest loves to brush her teeth. Every morning she stands on a chair and brushes her teeth while mama puts her hair into pony-tails. She always requests Dadoo's assistance with the 'top ones, Dadoo!', and she always demands that we turn the water on 'loud'. After she brushes her teeth, she wants make-up.

15. She asked for ribbons in her hair. Mama gave them to her, although a part of Mama's pinky was trimmed off in the process of cutting the ribbons. The tiny girl wore them all day without pulling them out.

16. She does not like snow peas, sippie cups, apple skins, rinsing her hair or having her curls touched.

17. She loves salsa, crayons, pretzels, jumping , singing and tickling her parents, her cat and herself.

18. Baby-sweetheart is friendly. When we pass other children on the street, at the park or in a store, she always says, 'Hi friends! Hi!'. She also loves babies, though she identifies any toddler her own size or smaller as a 'be-be'.

19. Averie has never tasted peanut butter. With the current peanut problem, mama thinks it may be a bit longer before she does.

20. Though she doesn't like many sweets, she loves scones, lemon pound cake and animal crackers. The two former are usually 'treats' from Starbucks. The latter we carry with us everywhere.

21. During her recent illness she refused almost all food and drink. In an act of desperation, Mama gave her a candy-cane. She loved it and carried it around for an entire day before it mysteriously disappeared around dinnertime. The experiment didn't turn out too badly, though it made an incredibly sticky mess of her hair.

22. She is getting taller and has an unbelievable reach. She has also begun to remember things - like what Mama used to cut the flowers (scissors) and where Mama keeps them (the very back of the kitchen drawer). This combination of increased height, reach and memory is resulting in an all new design for child-proofing our home as well as many 'how did you get that?' moments.

23. She acts much older than her age, and sometimes we-the-parents forget that she's still not quite two. We are often surprised to see her doing something we associate with a toddler . . . and then we have to stop and remind ourselves that she is a toddler. This was the case during last night's dinner when she took a huge drink from her adult-sized glass with ease, carefully set the glass back on the table and then slowly let all of the bright red juice dribble out of her tiny lips, down her neck, under her bib and onto her just-bleached-clean-by-mama-white-shirt.

24. When she was a little younger, she called her pet cat 'Waddy'. His name is Rèmy. Not too many days ago, she heard her Dadoo call him 'Rem'. She picked up on it immediately and now refers to him as either 'Rem' or Rèmy. Part of us is sad that she's outgrown her mispronunciation. We-the-parents are thinking of amending his name.

25. She's really, really good at going to bed. She's really, really good at telling us when she's tired. And when she's tired, and ready to go to bed, she doesn't want to mess around with it. She wants to get her jammies on, have some milk and get to her pillow. But it's important that she also have her bear, bear's blanket, her blanket, her 'udder blinkit, Mama', her lady-bug, her music, her 'Amal-sounds' book and her 'Hippo book'. Once all this is in place, she's off to dream. With no fuss. We are thankful.

***Mama wishes to note that baby-brilliant realizes that it is indeed the cow (and not the bull) that has a 'gi-nah'. Additionally, we ~~stole~~ borrowed the word 'bum' from our friends because it sounds so sweet coming out of their older son's mouth. And, we didn't like the sound of the word 'butt' coming out of our daughter's tiny little lips. ***

. . . some comfort

2009-01-23T09:52:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, all you need to feel a little better is your 'Dadoo', your polka-dot coat, some stickers and an iPod. Sometimes, you need a flower.

. . . still more germs (now in even more places)

2009-01-22T23:13:00.004-05:00

The update at baby-so-sick's afternoon doctor's appointment is that the gunk has now moved into her little ears. Ears which only 8 days ago were symptom free. Ears that have had multiple problems in the past. Teeny, tiny, soft little ears that are now gunky, icky, 'bulging' as her pediatrician termed it, with goo.

The poor girl was such a sweetie at the doctor's, and even while she and mama waited at her favorite store for her new prescriptions. She was a trooper after dinner when her Dadoo gave her the one-two punch of medicine on top of the earlier Tylenol. She even helped pick up her new box of Crayons after it mysteriously emptied itself across the living room floor.

And talk about good, she went to bed with only a few tears, once again missing out on her normal, favorite bedtime milk (no dairy with the violent poo). Granted, she did need both her 'Animal Sounds' book and her 'Hippo' book to do it, but still. All of this from a itsy little thing filled to the brim with, well, that green stuff.

Mama (& Dadoo, too) is so proud of her baby-sweetest. But mostly, Mama just feels so bad that she keeps getting worse. She seems so very small to be so sick for so long. Here's hoping that these new medicines can do the trick, and quickly.

. . . more germs

2009-01-22T10:41:00.008-05:00

The house is a germy mess. The child is an even germier germ-generator (say that ten times fast) who makes germs faster than this mama can clean them up. The mama is quickly becoming germier herself, what with an increasingly sore throat, stuffy head and achy ears. The Dadoo is looking a little bit tired. Not grey yet, thank goodness, but certainly paler than days past.

The sick-in continues here at Chez-icky-yuck as we-the-family mark the thirteenth (count 'em, that's a one-three) day of the seige. Our defenses are battered, our noses are sore, our eyes are puffy. And this morning, the girl's eyes were sealed shut with more of the green gunk. It. is. so. fun. here.

Last night, however, was even better. Last night, we-the-parents had the joy of experiencing the return (ladies and gentlemen - hold on to your hats), of the violent poo. And by return, mama means the absolute explosion. Neither Dadoo nor mama could've foreseen such an incredible experience in our future. We naively thought that since our sweet girl is so much older now, those poos were a thing of the past. We, as last night proved, were very much mistaken.

The hero of this story is Dadoo, who thankfully noticed a not-so-subtle-hint of fragrance coming from the nursery nearly an hour and a half after the girl was in bed. We-the-parents thought we'd prepared for the worst, and yet, once again, were amazed to find ourselves woefully lacking in imagination. Suffice it to say that a complete bed and pillow change, a bath for baby and mama and new jammies were in order. Along with some bleach and a lot of Desitin.

The girl was unbelievably happy at being awakened from her deep slumber, and surprisingly not one bit upset that she was covered in ick and being quickly stripped of her warm (stinky) sleeper. She laughed her way through a bath, snuggled with Dadoo for a few minutes and cried for only half a minute when she was placed back into her crib. All in all, a fairly decent ending to a truly not-so-pleasant beginning.

Still, hope has not vanished here in the middle of the ickiness, and Mama believes that the days of wellness are coming, if not near. The sun is shining after all, and surely that's a sign.

. . . the icky yucks

2009-01-19T14:37:00.007-05:00

Days and nights have been mixed a bit here in the world of toxic green, leaving we-the-parents tired and our poor toddler weary as well. The girl's been sick for over a week now with what began as a teeny tiny cough, moved into a stout cold and has recently emerged in a new form that has invaded her eyes.

Baby-starving refuses food (even her favorites like pizza and cheese) and despairs of nearly all liquids, though Mama is pleased to report that the thirsty babe drank 5 oz of Vitamin water before her nap began this afternoon.

We have not seen the likes of this much sheet-washing or this little solid sleep since her newborn days, and suffice it to say, both Mama and Daddy are feeling a bit sluggish themselves. The saddest part of it all, however, is watching the girl's discomfort. Her tired, red, runny eyes, her matted lashes, her chapped cheeks (from the endless rivers pouring from her nose), her hot face and sad little frown - all of these combine to break our heart.

She could be getting better, she could be getting worse. It's hard to tell which is happening. We only know that our Puffs Plus usage has skyrocketed over the last week and shows no signs of slowing. At least we're supporting a small part of the economy.

. . . a prayer

2009-01-13T11:39:00.006-05:00

For Noah and Julie.

For their families.

For the gift of the life of Magdalena Grace.

. . . the ninth day of Christmas

2009-01-03T13:46:00.006-05:00

That's ladies dancing, for those of you racking your brains for the ninth verse of one of the best ever Christmas songs.

And ladies dancing it is these days as our baby-adorable becomes more adept at her pliés and pirouettes. The last weeks have been a blur of turkey and music and lights and family, all infused with the laughter of our twirling toddler who has been more than pleased to execute her ballet positions for anyone willing to watch. She had plenty an audience with visits from both sets of grandparents, three of her Aunties and her Uncle Tony who, bless his heart, willingly worked the same puzzle 32 times in a row - just to keep a smile on the face of his niece.

Our second Christmas with baby-sweetheart was filled with wonder for all of us. We-the-family spent nearly every night driving around to see the 'wi-iiights' and the angels ('bye-bye an-johs' was a sweet and sad refrain as we passed any such display on the road). The girl attended her first Christmas party, and had a chance to play 'Secret Santa' for her friend. There were cookies and treats and presents and 'toh-eese' and tickles and hugs and singing and so much laughter that Mama doesn't know enough words to describe it all - the sheer joy of celebrating with a girl who just sees it and experiences everything with a sense of amazement and happiness.

The Brilliant Babydaddy (dubbed Dadoo by the girl) chose our tree-theme this year, and Mama declares it to be the best idea ever. Since the baby-brilliant loves looking for letters everywhere she goes, Dadoo decided we should deck-the-tree with the ABCs. A little planning, two cans of spray paint, three rolls of ribbon and 26 staples later, our alphabet ornaments were born. We-the-parents decorated the tree during an afternoon naptime, and when the sweetest girl woke from her nap, she ran to the tree with her bear, smiling and calling out each letter to us - 'A, Dadoo! A! Y, Mama! Y! Y! Y! - over and over and over. She still does it, and every morning before breakfast, her first words are, 'Tree dark, Dadoo. An-johs dark. Lights!'

Here she is, fresh from that day's nap, checking out her tree. And as we move closer to Twelfth Night, we-the-family hope your holidays and new year are merry, merry, merry.

. . . it in 'the sky'

2008-11-26T11:48:00.008-05:00

Exactly six months after baby-adorable was born, she got a super special present in the form of a seven pound baby boy named Tyson. She loved him as soon as she met him, and even though she occasionally stole his socks, he loved her back.

Since baby Ty lives in Mississippi, baby-sweetheart doesn't get to see him all that often, so you can imagine her excitement when she found out he was coming to Georgia. She quickly packed up all her travel necessities and headed up to Stone Mountain for a weekend of camping and holiday adventures.

Averie and Ty had a grand time playing together, and we-the-parents had an awesome time hanging out with his Babymama and Daddy. The tiny friends had a stroll on the grassy plain, took a trip up the mountain, had a morning dance off in the camper and even got the chance to experience a little bit of Christmas with a train ride.

It was a wonderful weekend with wonderful friends, and baby-sweetheart even had the opportunity to recruit 3 new members to her cult. The baby girl misses her friend, and has spent the last day calling out his name and walking around looking for him. Early yesterday evening, she finally said, 'Ty home, mama'.

Here's a photo of the girl and her friend playing straw wars. It's gonna be the cutest thing you've seen today - promise.

. . . chocolat

2008-11-14T09:33:00.003-05:00

Hot chocolate. Yum.
See baby-adorable with her first ever sip of fall's special treat.

. . . some spooky

2008-11-03T08:37:00.005-05:00

and without further ado, we-the-parents present the cutest little kitty cat you've ever seen:

The ever independent baby-cat did not deem it necessary to cooperate with mama during photo sessions, and so there are few photos of her and her costume in it's entirely. Most of the graphic record of her second Halloween is either her facing away or missing her ears. Nonetheless, you can see the full-length her right here.

After an awesome party with her friends, she ventured out to a local hot-spot for tortillas, glow sticks and several stolen gulps of mama's tea. Later on in the evening, she enjoyed some cuddle time with daddy and milk in the glow of her pumpkin before heading off to bed in her special Halloween pj's.

It's hard to believe that a year ago, our tiny Bee looked like this.

. . . a pink ribbon (or two)

2008-10-24T12:13:00.006-04:00

Back in the 1950s, baby-sweetheart's great-grandmother purchased some amazing fabrics. Like most seamstresses, she had a lot of things to sew and not enough time to use up all her fabrics. Years later some of her textiles were passed down to her daughter - baby-adorable's Gram - who is also an amazingly gifted seamstress. Gram sews up a lot of lovely things for the growing girl much to the delight of Babymama who wore so many of Gram's creations during her own growing up years.

A few days ago, a special present arrived in the mail. Mama and her girl opened it to find the most adorable cotton topper. Mama immediately fell in love with the vintage fabric and the innocent pink ribbon tied neatly across the pink, brown and blue squares. The tiniest girl couldn't get enough of the ribbon, and played with the tails, curling them around her little fingers until the ends were frayed with her pulling.

It's fitting that the baby girl received such a sweet gift in the middle of October, which is, after all, the pink month. And it's perhaps even more fitting that this tiny gift and pink ribbon comes with an even sweeter secret. The vintage fabric Gram used to make it was left from great-grandma, picked out long ago with her very own hands, the tiny squares of baby-pink and blue perhaps chosen for just such a tiny girl and finally, years later beautifully stitched by the loving hands of her daughter.

Averie will only know her great-grandmother through the stories and memories of her family, for she is the great-granddaughter of a woman who survived breast cancer and a mastectomy only to die of lung cancer years later. And sadly, the odds are that she will know the all-too-real worry of whether not breast cancer will affect her own life.

Mama hopes that time will change this. Mama hopes that soon we can find a cure, so that her little girl, and all little girls, can grow up to know a world where a pink ribbon is only a pretty symbol of a child's innocence and grace.

Learn more. And then help make it happen.

. . . pink: the sequel

2008-10-20T09:26:00.005-04:00

In recent weeks, we-the-parents have been watching for signs that our baby-sweetheart is ready to begin moving toward the next stage of her toddler years. For months now the growing girl has been following mama in to 'powder her nose', and though she's still a bit young for full-fledged potty training, mama went ahead and ordered this little pink potty for the girl.

It arrived a little over a week ago, and baby-adorable immediately loved it. She began sitting on it every night right before bath time - not really doing anything but smiling and talking about going tee-tee. And then, a mere 2 days after it arrived, baby-smartest decided she really did need to go tee-tee. So she did. In her potty. And she even asked mama for tissue to wipe.

OK, sure, mama hears you. A fluke you say. A random accident. She's too little. Which is exactly what we-the-parents thought until she did it again the following morning. And then again the next day. And then, well, then she really did have an accident - on daddy's shirt while she was waiting for mama to get out of the shower and open the door so she could get to her potty.

Since then, the baby's been sick and so has not been on her potty as much, but after missing a few days of her regular sittings, she got right back in the swing of things a day ago. This blushing color is turning into our magic charm, and we-the-parents feel certain that thanks to the pink potty, our days of diapers are numbered.

Just because it's adorable, here's the smiley girl demonstrating the proper use of shades.

. . . a whiter shade of red

2008-10-13T09:30:00.015-04:00

Many days it seems that the adventure which is our life is wrapped in an ever-growing pink ribbon. The color is everywhere in our days - from petit breakfest bowls and furry bunnies to toys phones and little shirts - as though the arrival of our baby girl cast a pink tint over the world.

In truth, our trip down this rosy road began before the baby-sweetest was born. The journey started with a soft pink corduroy jacket that mama bought for the girl on the very day the sonographer announced to we-the-parents that our tiny Bee was a girl. Soon after that announcement tiny pink blankets, socks, onesies and other soft baby things began to fill our home. Even so, baby-mama was determined not to let the color overtake us, and made sure the growing baby had plenty of other, less 'girly' colors in her life. Of late however, pink does seem to be the color of choice for our girl. Take for example, her new shoes.

Way back before mama knew Bee's gender, she customized two pairs of shoes for her still-in-the-womb tot. One pair was blue with green details and the other pink with green, and mama vowed to order them as soon that baby was born. Time teaches parents much - especially that good intentions and lots of other things get postponed in the world of life-after-baby, and for some reason, mama never got around to ordering the shoes. Last week, though, she made good on her promise and picked up these.

The girl loves them, and has happily pranced around wearing them and various articles (or not) of clothing all week long. Happily, she does not try to un-tie the double-knotted laces - in fact it appears that she doesn't notice them at all. Babymama could go on and on about how she's the 'you-know-what', but at this point, it probably goes without saying . . .

See her here, just like mama:

. . . the return of the faux

2008-09-24T10:51:00.001-04:00

You may recall many, many months ago when the sweetest baby was sporting a feminine version of daddy's hairstyle. It was her first foray into things faux and we-the-parents have not seen the likes of such ee-mee-tah-see-on, if you will, since. From the moment the rest of her hair grew in, our forthright girl has been nothing but the 'what-you-see-is-what-you-get' kind of baby - making it fairly easy for us to gauge her behavior and our responses to it.

The first hint of a reemergence of the faux came during a recent dinner at one of the girl's early haunts. The independent, self-feeding baby-grown-up started choking on her (V-8 Fusion cleverly disguised by mama as) juice. Mama reacted with the expected lightning-speed pats on the back, which seemed to help the tiniest girl recover.

After breathing a sigh of relief, mama was beginning to return to her own dinner plate when her efforts were arrested by the 'ack, ack, ack' sounds coming from baby-adorable. Quickly dropping her fork, mama moved in close to her tiny baby and started patting her on the back again. After a mere moment, the 'ack, ack' sound was replaced by a low 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh', interrupted with the staccato thuds from mama's pats. Mama stopped her patting, and looked at the girl, who was nothing but serious as she began to 'cough' again.

"Ack, ack, ack", said the baby, and looked expectantly at mama with her big, brown eyes. "Ack, ack" she said again insistently, waiting for the next pat. Of course, you can imagine how we-the-parents responded to what must now be the cutest-thing-ever. We could barely keep our laughter at a socially acceptable level as our girl studied us with her oh-so-serious eyes and fake coughs.

In the end, honesty won out, and baby-truthful dissolved into laughter with mama and daddy, we-the-family happy and completely amused with one another and the first, innocent deception of our growing girl.

And, to brighten your day with an example of the kind of sincerity we're talking about, here's a picture of those eyes. Go ahead. "Uh-door-uh-bul".

. . . a Fair Warning

2008-09-22T14:36:00.007-04:00

Yes, we-the-parents keep thinking we've totally baby-proofed the house - at least the main areas where baby-adorable plays. And just about the time we think we've really got everything fastened, locked and placed out of the reach of little hands, our tiny girl shows us just how wrong we are.

Take, for example, the photograph below. That white, rectangular thing in baby-sweetest's hand used to be a fairly functional cassette tape of circa 1981 vintage. The talented baby girl has released it from the confines of it's plastic case with a little help from Remy the cat. It's further proof that a toddler's reach is equivalent to twice the length a parent believes it to be.

*Yes, we still have tapes hanging around. Yes, we're mostly digital, and we both love our iPods, but we do feel a responsibility to preserve a small part of history for a girl who will most likely never own a cassette of her own.

. . . new levels of cute and a little independence

2008-09-08T09:42:00.007-04:00

The sweetest is seemingly cuter every day. We-the-parents don't know how this happens, as to us, she's always been the cutest thing we've ever seen, and yet, daily we sit and watch as this adorable factor multiplies. Sometimes, the cuteness gets you right in the chest.

Yesterday, for example, baby-sweetheart noticed a doll that was sitting high on a shelf in the back room. The doll was mama's own doll when she was tiny. It's wearing a purple dress with matching purple bloomers - both trimmed in little white lace. The doll was a gift from babymama's grandmother, and the dress was made by babymama's mother. It's a special doll that mama has saved from her own childhood, and one that the baby girl immediately desired.

'Uh! Dat!' she pointed at the doll. Her little face was so excited and hopeful. So mama decided to give it to her . . . and the rest of the day, the little 'mama' carried her 'baby' with her everywhere. She fed the baby a bottle (imagined by the girl from a container of eye-make-up remover she took from mama's bag), covered her up and patted her back. And then in the what was one of the cutest moments of our family life, she found a comfy spot on the ottoman, pulled her baby into her lap and a box of baby-wipes to her side and proceeded to carefully wash the baby's face - one wipe after another.

This morning, first thing after getting up, baby-cutest grabbed her 'baby' and held her to her chest as she watched the Wiggles. She sat on mama's lap and held her baby for a few more minutes, and then carried her baby into the bedroom to show daddy while he was getting ready for work. When it was time to leave for school, both of the 'babies' were waiting by the door.

Needless to say, mama's little girl took her 'baby' on the car ride to school, and mama is still smiling thinking of how cute she looked strapped into her car seat with that baby-doll hugged close to her cheek. So grown-up already.

And in the realm of grown up, the ever learning toddler that is our Averie has started putting on her own pants. Mostly she likes to put them on, stand up and then take them off. She hasn't mastered the art of pulling them up all the way over her diaper, but we feel that's coming soon. It appears that we're nearing the stage of potty chairs, and mama can't wait to try this one.

. . . her first enigma

2008-09-05T11:38:00.002-04:00

We-the-parents have been feeling pretty lame over the past month after realizing that our baby-brilliant has outgrown most of her toys. Our ephiphany came after watching her play with an adorable little boy who's a little shy of 2 years older than our girl. She loved him, and she loved his toys - little cars, a table and chair set, some great art stuff, etc. Our return home was a sad one for all of us: she, tiny and disappointed to be home again, missing her new pal and stuck with a bunch of baby toys, and us, older and disappointed in ourselves for not seeing the obvious.

But hark! Thanks to John Spilsbury, a remedy (albeit one in-progress) has begun, and our recent toy shopping selections included three wooden puzzles. Even though the puzzles are designed for older kids, they've turned out to be the perfect fit* in the tiny one's daily entertainment schedule.

Baby-smartest figured out the shapes puzzle right away, even managing to get the confusing diamond, rectangle and square shapes into their respective homes. The other two puzzles are farm animals and jungle animals, and the sweet girl loves to work on both of them at the same time.

Speaking of animals, the girl loves them, and can demonstrate even more animals sounds than before. She does the most amazing owl imitation. She's so good at it, in fact, that when we-the-parents awakened in the dark a few nights ago, it took us both several minutes to figure out that the sound we thought was coming through her baby monitor was actually a real-live owl outside our window. Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoooooo!

*That one is just to make daddy smile. It's a joke, see? A perfect fit? You're laughing, right?

. . . a dance in five steps

2008-09-02T12:34:00.004-04:00

The less-baby, more toddler sweetheart that lives in our house has a new chant these days. This enthusiastic mantra, like many of the girl's expressions, includes full body movement, and we-the-family have started to participate in it together, as one, whenever we have the opportunity.

It starts suddenly, so if you'd like to join in, you need to know the steps. Here's how to share the fun:

1. Suddenly and unexpectedly stop everything you're doing. Drop things if necessary, but you must come to a complete standstill.

2. Stand up and bend forward a little, at the hips, so that your back is at roughly a 25-degree angle to your hips.

3. Be sure your eyes are serious and your will resolute before continuing.

4. Bend your knees and push your body upwards, extending both arms (shoulder width apart) toward the heavens while shouting, "The sky! The sky! The sky!"

5. Finally, smile and laugh and give a tiny jump on one foot while leaving the other one on the ground. Laugh some more and repeat.

Of course we love it, and swear it's the, well, you know . . .

Mama must admit, however, that there are times it feels a bit cult-like.

* Also new in the world of adorable, our girl recently (a la the 23rd) discovered wind during a morning walk. She loves it, and we think she finds it funny. Whenever it blows around her, she stretches out her little arms and waves them back and forth, up and down while scrunching up her face and laughing. Mama is glad the tiny one likes it, and feels that this will be a good thing as the family (sans Daddy, sniff) makes plans for another upcoming dance - this one with three not so great acquaintances. .

. . . it like it's hot

2008-08-19T08:35:00.005-04:00

Because it was and it is hot. And baby-sweetheart needed a little time in the sprinklers. She loved it, and we-the-parents loved it. What a great way to cool off on a hot afternoon.

. . . a new dance move and an expanded vocabulary

2008-08-06T13:07:00.003-04:00

Just in time for your mid-week fix, Babymama offers this fast dose of adorable for your Wednesday bloggy consumption. But first, a photo of baby-sweetest checking out a fountain:

The tiny toddler knows lots of things these days*, and we-the-parents are surprised daily with a new word, phrase or action from the baby girl. Phrases like 'stomp, stomp' are spoken with great authority and are accompanied by expertly executed little stomps. Little fingers point at early morning coffee cups as a little voice says, 'hot! hot!', and an exuberant 'Tal-yon' bursts from her lips during dinners that include items like pasta and pizza. We are impressed, of course, and happy as we can be over our girl's emerging knowledge and understanding of her world.

In the mornings, we look for trucks on our way to school, and baby-friendly cheerfully says 'hiiii!' and waves as we pass every pick-up, SUV and 18-wheeler on the road. She loves to walk up the sidewalk on the way to her classroom, and asks mama 'dat?' when we encounter a jackhammer, the fence or the pool that's been set up for a water day. In the evenings, kisses and hugs abound for everyone, including her bear, her lion and Remy the cat. She loves to dance to the ringtone on mama's phone, and can do all the motions to her favorite songs, including the raised-arm-fist-pump and 'hooray' in the last verse of 'If you're happy and you know it'.

Her newest dance move surprised us, but not because it was in itself a new one. She loves to watch Bunnytown in the mornings, and we-the-family all sing and dance together during the daily performance of the 'Bunnytown Hop'. Even in the early days of the show, baby-smartest picked up quickly on the 'hop, hop, hop' verses, and did her athletic best to perform her own version of this bunny activity. Of course it's the cutest thing ever. Or it was. Until that tiny little sweetie added a new step to her routine. Only a few days ago, baby-bunny picked up the pair of these that mama gave her for easter, and after carefully placing them on her head, she stood up in her dollbed and loudly proclaimed, 'HOP! HOP! HOP!'

It's ok to say, 'Awww'. You know you want to.

* Babymama is proud to announce that baby-brilliant has added many new words to her vocabulary, including head, stomp, grape, tortilla, pasta, apple, jump, duck, shoes, Italian, palm tree, help, please, thank you, up, stop, step, and a wide variety of animal sounds, the strangest of which is 'macaw' - you know, for the bird.

. . . the sun, sand & sea

2008-07-14T12:52:00.009-04:00

Before the miracle of our baby-adorable brought such wonder and joy to our lives, we-the-parents (like others who share the good fortune of living near the ocean) spent much of our free time at the beach, relaxing, reading, resting and generally enjoying the sound and feel of the waves, wind and sand. It was a place of rejuvination for us - a spot amid the rush of life where we could share a bit of calm.

After our girl arrived, we spent many days talking about how we couldn't wait to take her out to the islands, to show her the sand and let her feel the foamy ocean as it lapped up to the beach. We laughed as we imagined what she'd think about the texture of the sand, how she'd like splashing in the water, looking for crabs and gathering shells. We planned and plotted and waited for the perfect day to make our first trek to the shore.

Since baby-sweetest was too tiny to have sunscreen her first summer, babymama and daddy opted to skip the sunny expanse until she was old enough bear a little SPF, and so, until a few weeks ago, that tiny girl hadn't had the chance to dip her toes in the Atlantic. One impromptu visit to our own South Beach sans bathing suits only convinced us that we needed to carve out more time for a 'real' trip.

And finally, two days ago, we managed to arrange a family day at the beach. Early Friday morning, we packed up the cooler, our beach bags and to-go coffees (and juice bottles) and loaded all of the gear and ourselves into the car. A short time later, we arrived to a nearly empty beach and found the perfect (read: super-close) parking spot. After pulling into our awesome parking space, we quickly discussed our options, pulled together a strategy, and began to implement it:

• First, get baby out of car. Set her on blanket on trunk and strip her. Put on swim diaper (yeah, Babymama knows what you're thinking - but the trip to the beach is a fairly good drive, and we knew we'd have to change her diaper as soon as we got there, and swim diapers are more expensive and less absorbent, blah, blah, blah).

• Cover baby in very high SPF sunblock - avoid eye area. Put tiny bathing suit on baby. Shove tiny feet into stretchy beach shoes. Dance around like crazy people before realizing that the stinging you've been feeling for the last 5 steps is coming from the inhabitants of the large ant bed you're standing in.

• Baby-mama takes baby girl and beach bag number 1. Baby-daddy takes cooler and beach pack number 2 with umbrella. Put sun-hat on baby. Parents and baby walk across dunes to beach. Commence to having fun.

The day was a great success and baby-beachy had a wonderful time, though there was little digging in the sand and minimal splashing at the water's edge. Her main focus was the 'dirdies' and she happily chased them across the wide beach as long as her little legs could hold out. When the sandy girl had walked what we estimate to be the toddler equivalent of ten miles, she sort of slowed to a turtle's pace until Babydaddy picked her up and carried her back to the blanket for some juice and fish. After her snack, she played with mama while daddy went out in the water before we packed up our things and headed for the car.

As 16-month-old parents ourselves, we're still new at figuring out how to manage things with an ever-changing 16-month-old toddler, so Babymama is happy to report that most of the steps in our plan worked out perfectly. They were, however, just a tiny bit harder than we thought they'd be. For one thing, swim diapers are tight - by necessity surely, but nonetheless, they are not easy to put on or pull up. For another, swim shoes are also tight, and perhaps useless, as we-the-parents learned after removing them in the car to find multiple blisters on our tiny girl's feet. Also, the loose sand of the dunes is a difficult surface for tiny legs to master, making it necessary for at least one parent to have a free arm for carrying the baby. (Actually, a wagon would be a huge help in this process - fun for the girl, helpful for the parents. The baby-girl likes this one though mama wonders if she shouldn't have more of an ATV type to handle the sand . . .)

It must also be said that photos of our adventure are few, as mama was more than busy making sure that the baby-sweetest didn't chase her 'dirdie' into the ocean, but mama did snap the one below near the beginning of the day. It's very representative of the entire morning . . . baby-girl running, we-the-parents chasing.

. . . a little 'Taken by Cars'

2008-07-02T12:22:00.006-04:00

Baby-adorable loves to use her words. She hasn't many of them*, but those she has are put to good use at mostly appropriate times. Her favorite word of the moment is 'uh-oh', and she uses it as a pre-cursor to any action on her part that involves dropping something. This 'something' could be a toy she's about to toss over the baby-gate into the small, but unknown spaces of the kitchen, or it could be the slimy and partially mushed broccoli that she's decided to pull out of her mouth and hurl to the floor. The key thing about 'uh-oh' is that it always comes before the fall, so to speak, and is a type of emergency alert system for we-the-parents, putting us on notice that something which should probably not be, is about to be sent to the floor.

Hearing our baby-sweetheart utter the 'uh-oh' often comes early enough that a quick parent, or one in close proximity can step in and avert the upcoming disaster, so when Babymama heard 'Uh-oh! Uh-oh! Uh-oh, Mamamamama!' as she was washing sippy cups yesterday morning, she quickly stopped and looked around to see what the 'uh-oh' was bound to be. Strangely, the baby had nothing in her hands, and mama coudn't see anything spilled, dropped or broken. The tiny toddler smiled at mama, and walked off to play with her toys, and mama, satisfied that nothing was amiss, continued her work at the sink.

It was moments after leaving the kitchen that Babymama realized she'd missed something. A few steps from the doorway, mama felt something cold, wet and a little squishy under her bare foot. Holding her breath, she looked down to see what horror lay under her foot. It was a baby-wipe . . . that led to another baby wipe . . . which led to another baby wipe, which in turn led to a pile of baby wipes nearly eight inches tall. Nearby was the nearly empty remains of what had been a brand new package of wipes picked up specially by Babydaddy only yesterday. Seems they somehow made their way, one by one, out of the package and onto the carpet, and baby-truthful came to let mama know right away.

Luckily for Babymama, wipes are easily rescued from the carpet, so the 'accident' was only a tiny hiccup in our morning routine. The real problem here is the timing change of the language. It seems our system of recognizable foreshadowing is disappearing in favor of a contextual expression of the word, leaving we-the-parents without an early alarm, less time for accident interception, and more time for berry juice to soak into the carpet. Uh-oh for real.

*Some of the words Baby-brilliant loves to speak: Daow, hi, bye, stars, mama, daddy, tack-tack (quack-quack), hot, dat? (that, as in 'what's that?'), truck, juice, ruff-ruff, hop, tree, all-done and of course, uh-oh.

. . . a 'new' toy

2008-06-27T14:59:00.002-04:00

When babymama was a little girl, her own mama and daddy gave her a hand-made doll-bed for Christmas one year. It was tiny and the perfect fit for all her dollies, and it came complete with a quilt made by her own mama and two afghans made by her grandmama. Babymama loved to play with her babydolls and made sure she tucked them soundly into their special bed each night.

Babymama grew up, but never out-grew the love she had for her childhood doll-bed. She kept it with her, taking it from one college apartment to another, moving it carefully each time, before it ended up in her current home. Until recently, it's been stored away - a secret memory of mama's growing up, waiting to be revealed to a new little girl with new little dolls. And earlier this week, mama spent a little time with a polishing cloth getting it shined up to share with baby-adorable.

One evening, before dinner, mama sat down with baby-sweetest to show her how to make up the little bed and how to tuck her 'babies' in under the now-vintage blankets. Mama was so excited to see how much fun her little girl would have putting her babies to sleep - just like she did twenty, um thirty?, years ago. But baby-sweetheart is an independent-kind-of-gal, and promptly tossed the babies out of the bed. She has her own ideas about how that bed should be used, and she immediately set about putting those ideas into action.

. . . a cucumis sativus with a pH less than 4.6

2008-06-12T21:52:00.002-04:00

If estimates are correct, baby-so-sour's favorite pickled snack was probably first picked and rotted about 4400 years ago in the land between the two rivers. In terms of holiness, you probably couldn't find a fruit closer to earthly paradise (now, before you protest, think about where that infamous 'apple' lead), so it is nothing but fitting that our little angel absolutely loves them.

Her first taste of the salty, sour cucumber happened at a barbeque restaurant of all places. It was served along side babymama's pulled pork sandwich - cool and crisp, a refreshing sour to the sweet, rich, buttery melting of meat on mama's plate. As mama ate, baby-insistant kept pointing to what mama thought were her french fries. After repeated attempts to quiet the increasing volume of the hungry girl's pleas with a fry, mama finally understood that baby-demanding wanted the pickle.

You can easily understand the, ahem, pickle in which we-the-parents found ourselves. It's a pickle for goodness sake, and baby girl is a mere 15 months old . . . arguably an age that is entirely too young to appreciate, much less enjoy, the many virtues of vinegar and garlic combined with fruit and fermentation. It is, however, a near-impossible feat to distract the baby-girl once she has focused her attention upon any desired food item, and so, with warnings in baby-tongue intended to prevent what mama knew would be the inevitable tears, mama handed over the pickle.

Amazingly there was no crying, and thankfully, no vomiting (as was the case with the veggie puffs and cooked carrots). The baby's eyes widened as she took a small bite, quickly realizing the sourness of the fruit. She pulled her head back, puckered her lips, and then she shuddered - a full-body, head-shaking shudder that drew those puckered little lips down into a grimace. We-the-parents braced ourselves for the wailing that never came. Instead, we saw a smile, and our adventurous little eater leaned in and reached for a second helping of the pickle that mama pronounced 'soooo sour'.

Since that first taste of kosher dill, the baby-girl always asks for our pickles, often enjoying a whole side of them on her own. At her last trip to the land of lemon-pepper-wings, baby-sweetheart ate 3 spears nearly back to back, and mama and daddy now keep a jar in the fridge just for her. We've not introduced her to the gherkin yet, or the bread and butter variety, but we plan to do so well in advance of next year's International Pickle Week, so she's well prepared to celebrate with the rest of the world's pickle lovers. If you're so inclined, you can get some of Daddy's favorites here, and you can check out the 39 flavors (yes, that's right) offered here.

. . . the cognitive process of deriving meaning from written & printed text

2008-06-05T17:21:00.005-04:00

Baby-sweetest comes from a long line of readers and writers. Both her Grammy & Grampy and her Gram & Grandpa spend many of their days wrapped up in the printed word, and even her great-grandparents were poets and journalists. Babymama herself is an avid reader and has been since she was a baby - (Gram & Grandpa often tell the story of how it took 50 books before bed to get the infant babymama to fall asleep). Babydaddy is a writer and reader as well, though he refuses to consume one of the best books on the planet (- under 100 pages, free to download here, and a great read for a myriad of reasons). Needless to say, we the parents had hopes that our baby-brilliant would take to literature, and we began pumping various authors into her ears even before she was born.

Seeminlgy, our efforts to help baby-smartest develop a love of books and reading are beginning to pay off. It started with one to three books at bedtime - books chosen by the parents from the baby's ever-growing bookshelf. Babyparents would try to help the not-so-sleepy baby focus on the stories, or at least the pictures, and baby-tolerant would humor us with a few minutes of her time before returning her attentions to the contents of her toybox (our living room floor).

Recently, however, baby-brilliant is bringing her very own choices to us for story time, which now takes place several times a day. She toddles over to her book pile(s), picks out a book and walks it over to whichever parent she decides is the best to interpret the story within. At the conclusion of the story, she makes her way back to select another book, and again, chooses the appropriate parent for the text. This process repeats itself, oh, roughly sixteen times a session. Baby-mama knows this because that's how many books are currently strewn about the carpet after last night's storytime.

Baby-cerebral's current favorites include Hippos Go Berserk, The Belly Button Book, Barnyard Dance, Pat the Bunny, Moo, Baa, La La La, The Going to Bed Book, A to Z, Christmas in the Manger, Clifford's Animal Sounds, Dear Zoo, Big Little, Prayer for a Child, Little Bee and My Many Colored Days. Here is a picture of her with that Seussical story of color and emotions as she makes her way over to babymama's lap.

. . . a tumble and a goodbye

2008-06-04T15:41:00.007-04:00

She's a walker, but even so the baby-sweetheart is not quite the most balanced toddler on the beam. She manages her way around on two feet nearly all the time these days, and is much faster on her tiny legs than she used to be. She is, however, a bit wobbly, and is often found hands down, bottom up as she struggles to stay upright. Many more times than not, this wobbliness leads directly to a (mostly) graceful crash and the subsequent and variable punctuation of laughter, stunned silence or tears.

Her most recent tumble of note began with the 30.5 inches of baby girl chasing the 70 inches of daddy around the bedroom. Alas, baby-sweetest is not so adept at changing direction quickly, and she lost her footing during an atempt to turn on the proverbial dime. Her tiny feet got tangled and she fell, ka-boom-splat, face (forehead) first into the (metal) bedframe.

Although babymama moved with lightening speed, she was not able to swoop in before the collison, and only arrived in time to gather baby-goose-egg in her arms just as those first, horrible screams started. Thankfully, this injury, (unlike her recent lip puncture) did not draw blood, but it did leave a 2 inch wide purple and red line across her little head, and a sizeable knot accompanying it.

As you may well imagine, babymama is not accustomed to the sounds of her baby-adorable crying in fear and pain, and mama's immediate response to all of the baby's wounds is to insist, with tears in her eyes, that babydaddy drive the family to the doctor immediately, now, this second.

Babydaddy, on the other hand, is definitely in the 'let's take a moment to see how this looks and then decide if she needs an x ray' camp. You may be able to picture how this little scene unfolds again and again - much to the entertainment of the baby, who after a short cry and some hugs is happily chewing on her shoe and watching her parents debate whose philosophy of emergency medicine is the best.

Suffice it all to say that in the end, babydaddy called the nurse, who gave firm instrutions to watch the baby, wake the baby, and wait to see how the lump progressed. Which is what we did, to find the following truths:

1. Babies heads really are tougher than we think. This appeared to be a serious knot - and even so, a mere 24 hours later, the red mark from the edge of the frame was nearly invisible and the bump was beginning to go down.

2. There is no procrastination like the procrastination of two sleep deprived parents who know that they must go in and wake up the very baby who they just spent two hours preparing for bedtime. Each time we had to do it, we sat on the edge of the sofa contemplating just what the nurse meant by "check to see that she can still perform age appropriate actions like walking, talking, etc."
Does she really mean walking, or just moving her legs? Does a sigh count as talking or do we need to sing "itsy bity"? Um, what does she mean by "etc"?
And what if she won't go back to bed?'***

3. Our baby is fine - walking and tumbling normally, eating normally and playing normally. She's even sort-of sleeping normally, which is amazing in itself as we are in the middle of the 'transition' to big-girl-crib in big-girl-room. We, too, are fine, though watching these types of injuries is enough to shred and nearly stop our hearts.

. . .

It's been a heart-shredding kind of week here at the house, and while babymama usually does not high-jack the baby blog with other happenings, it feels somehow wrong to leave a space empty of the mention of one of our other babies, our little cat Darlin'.

Dar', as baby-sweetheart so lovingly dubbed her, was with us nearly eight years, and was, until the baby girl arrived, strictly her father's cat. Averie's arrival, however, saw a softer side of Darlin' who loved the baby as much as the baby loved her. She was a good cat who never bit, scratched or even hissed at the tiny girl who daily pulled her tail, pinched her toes and often fell directly on her furry tummy. She left us suddenly a week ago tonight, not sick or ailing, not really old, just gone. We all loved her much, and miss her terribly. Here is a photo of our Darlin' One with the baby who was her constant companion.

*** The baby girl does not go back to bed. Not really. Once awakened in the night and made to do things like walking, moving, talking and other age appropriate actions, baby-princess fakes sleeping in her crib for about two and a half hours. After that, she will only sleep if allowed to first cuddle on mama's chest and then sprawl out horizontally in mama and daddy's bed - no covers or socks allowed.

. . . a clean deciduous set

2008-05-21T15:11:00.005-04:00

As diphyodonts, we humans only get two chances to grow some pretty pearly whites, and baby-smiley is in the early stages of getting her 'milk teeth'. The process through the eyes of we-the-parents, seems to be long and painful for our tiny girl, and we want to do as much as we can to take extra special care of those itsy-teeth that have been so difficult for her to grow.

Thanks to the ingenuity of rioting Englishmen and a few hundred years of continued innovation, baby-adorable has a head-start on her first set of healthy teeth, and with her improving coordination, it certainly won't be long until she's brushing all on her own.

In other itsy-news, baby-sweetest is learning how to sing. Songs with gestures are her favorites, and just two days ago, she surprised mama and daddy with her first ever vocal rendition of this children's classic ode to an arachnid. Her sweet little voice was matched with her sweet little hands and fingers - twisting and turning their attempts at making it up the water spout.

. . . Mothers' Day

2008-05-11T21:31:00.006-04:00

    Dance little baby, dance up high,
    Never mind baby, mother is by ;
    Crow and caper, caper and crow,
    There little baby, there you go ;
    Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,
    Backwards and forwards, round and round ;
    Dance little baby, and mother shall sing,
    With the merry coral, ding, ding, ding.
        ~ Ann Taylor, The Baby's Dance

. . . a study in green or 'the expression of sentiment and imagination through the medium of crayon'

2008-05-04T11:50:00.002-04:00

Both babydaddy and mama believe that art, in all of its forms and the creation of such is an important part of life, and we do our best to bring the creative into our growing baby's life as much as we can. We're by no means the 'arty type', but we were beyond pleased when baby-sweetheart began to show her appreciation for things beautiful in her early months. Each day, she is more attentive to the colors, sounds and textures around her, and recently, she's begun to demonstrate her very own emerging creative talents.

Baby-artistic has two sets of crayons - one which is specially shaped for tiny hands and use on paper, and a second which is specially designed for use in water. Ironically, the second set, which are shaped like a rubberized version of the regular, original crayons that baby-parents grew up with, seem to be easier for her to manage. A portrait of the artist as a young toddler follows, and you can see the art of the day by clicking here.

. . . her first steps

2008-04-20T22:12:00.007-04:00

It happened today . . . with smiles, laughter and much revelry. Baby-sweetest chose today for her first steps. The grand event happened after the closing credits of Bunnytown, today's episode featuring Pinky Pinkerton reporting on the age old race between the chicken and the egg, as well as the amazingly catchy (in the sticks-in-your-head-all-day-kinda-way) theme song, The Bunnytown Hop (hop, hop, hop, hippity hop).

That adorable girl was hopping on mama's lap when she suddenly decided to hop right into a standing position. She repeated this motion for a bit, and then proudly, certainly, determinedly stood up and walked 3 big, brave steps all on her own.

Babyparents are so proud. We tried to get her achievement on video, but all the excitement has Baby-sweetheart thinking this is some kind of game, so instead of continuing to walk, she throws herself down to the floor, laughing each time, between babydaddy and mama.

Until we can get her on film, here's a picture of her in her yellow animal dress. Of course, you know we think she's beyond adorable.

. . . A little Respect*

2008-04-19T12:09:00.000-04:00

1. Baby-sweetest has long, long hair. It's very straight on top, and very curly in the back, and looks cuter than cute in it's naturally disheveled state. This is key because it's also unruly and we the parents are not able to force it into any particular style. However, we have found a temporary solution.

2. The tiny tot has friends at school! Babymama is exceptionally happy about this, and especially about how she smiles at them when she arrives at school and waves to them when she leaves. She and 'A' have been good friends since their last classroom, and are back to chasing each other around the room. She still loves her 'boyfriends' 'L' and 'G', but was recently bitten by another playmate. She's a-o-kay, and thankfully has not picked up that bad habit herself.

3. Knock-on-virtual-wood, baby-so-sleepy has been on a schedule again for a week. This is a huge accomplishment for the entire family, since it's taken us months to recover from the last time her schedule was disrupted.

4. Food is good, and this baby definitely has an already well-developed palette, which both babydaddy and mama are working to train. She loves peas and cantaloupe, (two of the world's wonder-foods) and also eats cucumber, tomatoes, corn, lettuce and a large variety of other fruits and veggies. Like her daddy, that thirsty babe loves water and milk. Like her mama, she loves sweet tea (decaff of course).

5. Le bebe is tall, a full thirty and one half inches tall. This puts her somewhere around the 80th percentile, nearly ready for the haute runways of Paris.

6. Baby-athletic is not quite walking yet. However, she is a super-speedy knee-walker, and her tiny baby pants have the dirty worn spots to prove it. Although she refuses to walk on her own, she does regularly use her accomplished standing powers to boost her over our improvised baby-gate and into the kitchen, where those aforementioned 30.5 inches put her at the perfect height to examine the cabinet knobs. (Note to selves: must invest in handy cabinet locks as well as a proper safety gate.)

7. The super-spring-time-baby has her first pair of flip-flops - something every girl needs at least fifteen pair of. (Yes, babydaddy, let me explain again. See, you need the black ones with the cushion-y heels, the regular flat black ones, the neutral colored ones, the dressy ones, the beach-only ones, the pink ones for being super girly, a pair to keep in both cars - just in case, the sporty-ones, etc. . . .)

8. In addition to her first flip-flops, baby-beachy also has a new swimsuit. Polka-dots make it sweet, but the ruffles make it extra-adorable.

9. Baby-sweetheart has mastered the art of blowing kisses. Her missiles are delivered with a sweet smile and a loud 'mmmmpwaah', and never fail to send both of us doting parents into that happy, melty-heart place.

10. She is very helpful, and likes to give us things over and over again. Each morning, when she tosses her cheerios on the floor, she helps us pick up each and every 'O', one at a time, of course. She will help us pick up things like our shoes, slippers, and the remote, but not necessarily her toys.

11. She also likes to share, and is very good at sharing her food with everyone around her, including her beloved 'Dar'. One cheerio for you, oh, have another . . . ok, now one for me, well, no, it's only a little wet - you can still have it. Babymama distinctly remembers being grossed out watching other parents swallow the food offerings from their little ones . . . but she now realizes that the wounded look on the face of baby-adorable when someone refuses her gift is much worse than a little soggy food in the mouth for a second. Babymama does, however, draw the line at sharing peas.

12. The stickiness that once lingered in her teeny little hands has transferred itself to her teeny little feet. Somehow, those little toes are always sticky . . . we don't have any ideas why.

13. More evidence that baby-graceful is bound for ballerina stardom - she dances! Truthfully, at this point it's a bit more in the line of bouncing than twirling, but those bounces are helping her get ready for her first grand jeté.

14. That grown-up-baby is beginning the journey away from bottles and into sippy-cup land. These are arriving in a few days time, and soon, babymama and daddy will no longer be washing bottles every single night. Baby-adorable also drinks well from straws, although she occasionally decides not to swallow and instead, allows the drippy beverage to run slowly out of her mouth and down her chin. It's somewhat reminiscent of her milky-face days of yore.

15. Our tiny baby is now 36, 806,400,000 milliseconds old. That seems like a lot, but it's also only 613,440 minutes or 10, 224 hours, or a mere 426 days. Not very many at all when you think of it, but on the other hand, it's so very, very many seconds of adorable-ness.

16. One of baby-techie's earliest toys was an old computer mouse (optical, not ball), and she has since moved up to the laptop. She enjoys 'typing', scrolling and watching videos of herself. She even claps at the appropriate parts of these videos, applauding herself for good behavior, standing 'so0-tall' and taking a 'big-bite'.

17. While she'd mastered 'beep-beep' very quickly on her little red riding car, she was slightly directionally challenged and could only move backwards. Recently, however, that smart baby figured out how to drive forwards, and she's using this skill and her own wheels to get around 'town' much more quickly.

*A select few of you will be familiar with the title of this post. Babymama gives a shout out to y'all, and does apologize for borrowing part of the secret slang of the Minneapolis crew. But, it must be said that even before we were married, some of that Minnesota-cool rubbed off on her
. . . and, respect or not, babymama beat that super-hip daddy every game of crib during the first 6 months of our courting.*

. . . Easter and her first PEZ

2008-03-27T21:49:00.004-04:00

Baby-adorable did not see the Easter Bunny this year, except briefly in passing as we made our way from our favorite store to Dillards one Saturday afternoon. She paid the vest-wearing impostor no mind as we strolled by, and was instead, completely focused on the tiny-voiced conversation she was having with everyone and no one in particular during her stoller ride through the mall. And since baby-can't-be-fooled-by-fake-fur was uninterested this year, Babymama is thinking that we should continue to avoid the long lines and general scariness of the whole mall-bunny tradition.

However, baby-adorable would not be deprived of all the holiday traditions, and on Easter day, after demanding to be removed from her Reformed perch so she could chat with the pigeons, (this action itself potentially saving Babydaddy from a swift and sharp retaliation), that pastel-dressed Easter baby did have a chance to experience the joy of the Easter basket.

Baby-sweetest had a grand time pulling everything, including the edible grass (green apple flavored, y'all) out of her little yellow pail. Along with her first chocolate bunny, she found a series of sparkly eggs, a Reeses-filled carrot,some jelly beans, bath-tub crayons and her very first PEZ dispenser - a cute little lamb. Baby-healthy doesn't really like sugar, so she donated her candy to Babymama & daddy who're happy to oblige by taking it off her hands.

Although there was no ham (the main Easter meal this year did include bacon), baby-sweetheart made the day a perfect one - with lots of smiles. Check out this one, and her growing line-up of pearly whites.

. . . a systematic means of communicating by the use of sounds

2008-03-22T12:34:00.000-04:00

Do what?

Yep, that's right, baby-smartest is starting to talk. A little bit. And mostly, it's very difficult to understand, but still. She's talking! Babymama & daddy, of course are ever so pleased and more than proud.

For months we've had some sneaking feelings that somehow, as parents, we weren't doing quite enough to feed the brain of a growing baby-adorable. Sure, we read to her (thanks much to A and T for helping us discover one of our favorite authors), and we expose her to lots of music (most recently we've purchased this), and we try to only buy learning toys and we go over her Spanish/English flash cards, but, still. Shouldn't we be doing more to teach her? So she doesn't fall behind? And what about that super-smart 18-month-old reading baby? How are we gonna rock that in less than 6 months?

Babymama's been keeping an eye out, watching the other babies, (some of whom are already walking) in baby-sweetest's class, listening as they shout out garbled phrases as their parents pick them up. Prompting, cajoling, trying desperately to get a little language out of our cute girl. Ok, yes. She said ma-ma and da-da a long time ago. But who's to say that she really knew what those words meant? Babymama's been looking for something in context. And finally . . . it happened!

It started one morning in the recent past. As reference, each of baby-adorable's days begins with the same ritual:

Babymama begins falling off the bed and wakes just in time to catch herself, thanks to the soft, but insistent sounds of baby-hungry, who is lying perpendicular in between mama and daddy (this is a story for another day).

Then, the least disoriented parent makes his/her way to the kitchen to heat up a bottle - a feat which suddenly takes much longer than it did previously, largely due to our recent transition to whole milk.

Said parent returns to the bed with warm bottle, where baby-adorable wrests it from her parent's hands and plugs it quickly into her mouth. Both parents snuggle back into bed and doze to the happy sounds of the baby with her bottle.

A very few minutes later, baby-sweetest is full, and she pushes her bottle out of her mouth and away from her. If there's any milk left, Babymama tries to give it back. If baby is hungry, she takes it, smiles and finishes the rest. If baby is full, she pushes the bottle away, and Babymama says 'All done! Thank you' and takes the bottle.

Then, Babydaddy picks up baby-sweetheart and gives her a big hug while saying, 'Hi Averie!' He takes her over to the changer and says, 'Hi, Mama!'. Usually, Averie turns her head toward mama and waves, and mama waves back and says 'Hi Averie!'.

After a diaper change, the family heads out for coffee and Clifford.

That's how it goes . . . how it's been . . . nearly every morning for months. Except for the other morning, when baby-smartest surprised us with a very clear and audible 'Hi Da-da' as she patted her Daddy on the back. What?!? We both heard it, realized it had really happened, burst into laughter . . . and were promptly joined by the cutest little laughter from our baby girl.

Since then, 'Hi' is a regular expression, along with others including 'maooow' (meow), 'Dar' (darlin' the cat), 'wrah?' (always accompanied by a questioning look, so we're guessing this is some interrogatory expression) and the latest, just yesterday morning as she took her last bite of breakfast banana, 'Ahh done' (all done). Outstanding, says Babymama.

Talking is tough work, though, and all that smartness can really wear a girl out. Here's what our talking baby looks like after a long day of babbling . . .

. . . her first birthday

2008-03-02T18:56:00.003-05:00

The days, 365 of them, and all the milestones in between the first and last of that number, came and went faster than baby-adorable's parents imagined. Maybe it was our still-sleep deprived brains that couldn't process the speedy countdown of days, maybe some of those weeks were magically gobbled up by the black hole that exists inside the diaper genie . . . babymama does not really know how it happened, but the truth is that time really did move faster (just like other parents promised it would) in the minutes, hours, days, weeks and months of the last year. And suddenly, our baby-sweetheart is one.

Of course, one comes with many accomplishments. Baby-smartest is learning more and more everyday, (how to quickly empty a kleenex box, how to circumvent babydaddy's improvised baby gates, how to remove handfuls of fur of the back of the 'meow').

An athlete as well as a scholar, she crawls faster than any adult can navigate the labryinth of her toys, and pulls up on anything that appears stationary. She loves to walk when babymama and daddy are holding her hands, and will randomly throw caution to the wind and let go - though it must be said that both her forward motion and vertical stance end at that moment.

Like all other special events in life, 'One' deserves a celebration, and baby-grown-up had 2 of her very own: One small one with babymama & daddy and her very own birthday cake, and a second, larger one with more children, balloons, and an even larger (and, babymama will say it, better) cake.

Baby-social partied hard and as guests were leaving, she promptly fell asleep.

.

. . . a great year

2007-12-31T23:53:00.000-05:00

We're leaving behind an amazing and beautiful year.
We wish you all the best in the new one.

Waiting . . . January 2007

February 20th

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

New Year's Eve

Happy 2008!

. . . the Merriment

2007-12-26T12:50:00.000-05:00

Hope your Christmas was filled with joy, wonder,
and much clapping of hands.

. . . the road less traveled

2007-09-06T21:24:00.000-04:00

or, I-20 West to be more specific.

Late Thursday evening, baby-sweetest embarked upon her first real road trip. Around 9 p.m., that tired baby nestled into her car seat for the long ride to Mississippi to visit her grandparents, auntie & uncle and baby Tyson and his parents.

Along the way, she was involved in a late-night taco fiasco, some drama outside a cheap motel, an unfortunate mattress-dampening accident, a trucker fight between some random redneck and a Fed-ex driver, several fartie-poopies, lotsa hugs, a little holiness and a trip to IKEA.

In addition to the aforementioned craziness, baby-so-funny also single-handedly entertained a room full of grown-kids with nothing more than her own personal amusement over the sweetest little dachshund ever. While the Mississippi crew was sitting around watching videos of the fierce Lucie catching (and maiming) a chimney squirrel, baby-amused was busy getting her entertainment on by watching that same Lucie-dog . . . well, run.

Normally, this type of craziness only happens after several minutes of babyparents tickling or otherwise attempting to be silly for baby-sweetest. This night, however, baby-laughs-a-lot spontaneously cracked her little self right up - all on her own. Don't believe it's the cutest thing you'll watch today? Click the play button and be convinced.

*More stories from the road . . . coming soon to a rockin' blog near you.*

UPDATE: Here's the very same video, in a google video option. Alas, babymama does not have quicktime production capabilities . . . yet.

. . . her first correction (or rather, babymama's)

2007-08-25T14:03:00.000-04:00

Babymama has been politely informed that Big Bird is not a chicken. While he is commonly thought of as a canary, he is, in fact, a Golden Condor.

Thanks to Ty's Mommy for the insight. Babymama apologizes for this mistake, and for any confusion it may have caused for any reader of this blog. Babymama most profusely apologizes to baby-adorable, who may have permanent animal-confusion due to mama's inability to differentiate between chickens, golden condors and other fowl-like members of Kingdom Animalia.

*In mama's defense, this doesn't look anything like this. *

. . . 8 secrets

2007-08-23T22:47:00.000-04:00

1. Baby-sneaky actually can roll-over. Apparently pretty well, as her teachers at daycare inform babymama that they routinely put her down for naps on her tummy since she's such a good roller. Funny how she refuses to do that for babydaddy and mama . . .

2. Additionally, said baby is also more particular about people than babymama & daddy knew. We've recently discovered that our sweet baby girl determines fairly quickly who she likes and doesn't, and then decidedly makes her feelings known with a stern gaze, a frown and a concluding round of tears.

3. The above mention aside, baby-sweetheart really is a sweetheart. When we talk about her being a good, easy-going baby, we truly mean it. She rarely cries, and when she does, the tears are easily stopped by a meal, a new diaper or a hug. She goes to bed easily, and has only been sick once, and then only for a day. As parents, we occasionally feel guilty. But then we think better of it . . .

4. Since we're sharing secrets, Charlie and Lola is babymama's favorite cartoon, followed closely by My Friends Tigger & Pooh. Babydaddy prefers Handy Manny, and Baby-shouldn't-be-watching-TV loves Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Little Einsteins. (Rah, rah, rah for Rocket!) Our good intentions failed, and that previously cable-free baby now recognizes almost all the songs on the early morning round-up of Playhouse Disney, as well as Ahh and Ooh.

5. Baby-smells good had a bath yesterday. She did not, however, have one today. She'll probably have one tomorrow, but sometimes it's an extra day or so before she spends some quality time in the tub. In between baths, babymama and daddy wipe her down with baby wipes. She is not usually stinky, but sometimes is a little sticky.

6. She grows, says mama. So fast. No, really. Baby-growth-spurt outgrew all her clothes in a span of about 2 days. One day they fit her fine. The next day her little torso was too long for the snaps at the bottom of her onesies. Somehow, babymama did not anticipate this happening so quickly. And now poor baby is nearly naked. *Note to Grandmas across the country: please send pants, size 6-9 mths* Baby-tallest is 26 inches high.

7. In terms of heft, she's a perfect 7.71107029 kilograms. Since you're most likely one of these 3, that's an angel-sized 17 pound bundle of cuteness (give a couple ounces). Now before you start in with the 'what a big baby' comments, you need to be aware that: 1. Babymama doesn't play when it comes to disparaging remarks about her baby-adorable and 2. This is the average size of a normal 6 month old. Which brings us to number 8.

8. All of this . . . the baby stuff of this life, the diapers, the spit-up, the nights of little sleep, all the normal clichés that no longer seem like such, the aches and pains, the worry and uncertainty, the striving and learning and wondering, all of it - every little bit, is the best secret we've ever learned.

*Babymama is so tired. She will strive to add 6 blogs to her tag list tomorrow. Promise.*

. . . the bird

2007-08-23T22:30:00.000-04:00

Babymama doesn't like chicken all that much, but baby-adorable definitely does . . .

What on earth would a bird-lovin' gal do without her very own baby Big Bird? Luckily, baby-A-O-K doesn't have to know the answer to that one, as her Mississippi Auntie made sure baby-plays-a-lot would have one several months before she was born. That same Auntie also included baby Cookie Monster (babymama's favorite), and mama is soon to purchase Baby Elmo. Now all baby-cutest needs are everyone's favorite nursery pals, and she's good to go.

Just close your eyes and make believe . . .

. . . the lashes

2007-08-19T23:26:00.001-04:00

Babydaddy has the longest, most luxurious eyelashes babymama has ever seen. They are dark, and slightly curved, and absolutely beautiful. You can see them below . . . perfectly mirrored on the eyes of his daughter.

...more sleeping

2007-08-18T23:19:00.000-04:00

Baby daddy is guest posting tonight. I've been meaning to do this since April - when I first took this picture. I'm not good with deadlines. (See, it's funny cuz I work for a newspaper.)

This was a Friday night and the stresses of the week bore down on all of us. Andie fell asleep in my lap, Darlin' flopped on the carpet and baby-sleepiest (did I do it right?) snoozed in her chair. I sat there, unable to go anywhere, peaceful with the knowledge that my girls were all safe and sleeping. I took this pic with my phone. Unfortunately, our other cat Remy was unable to drag a beer to me, mainly because he was sleeping in some other room.

And it's still a fairly representative portrait of our living room. There is still baby stuff and baby toys strewn everywhere because you really don't know what baby-needy might require on a moment's notice. So we might as well have it all out all the time.

Since I'm updating, the baby faux-hawk is pretty much gone. She's got new hair growing in. I'm once again the only person in the house with a faux hawk.

Andie quit the paper and got a job with a crazy hip design firm downtown.

I'm toiling at the paper still, although I'm printing a big project about the death of a doctor's wife on Tybee Island tomorrow. Check it out here.

Baby-won't-roll-over goes in for her six month check-up this week. Six months! She's growing out of stuff already.

I'll make sure baby momma posts some pics of baby-cutest in the next few days.

. . . an early bedtime

2007-07-12T21:28:00.000-04:00

For the first time since she was born and sleeping all the time, baby-so-tired has put her little self to sleep early. Like 2 and a half hours early. Babymama is anxiously continuing to check on that precious baby, each time expecting to go in and find her awake in her cradle, but each time, she is still all swaddled up and snoring the sweetest, tiny, baby-snores. Babymama can not believe it.

What all this means is yet unclear. Until tonight, baby-on-a-schedule goes to sleep every night between 9:20 and 10 p.m. She makes the exact same sleepy face, rubs her adorable baby-blues and makes that cute little anh-anh sound. Babydaddy & mama then transport her from the playground that is our living room to the dresser-turned-changer in our room. After a fresh diaper and a quick change into jammies, baby-sleepy is wrapped up in the miracle blanket (it truly is - our amazing friend gave it to us, and we OWE her for such a kindness). Thus prepared for slumber, baby-wants-to-stay-awake spends between 5 and 10 minutes walking in daddy's arms, and is finally deposited, with much kissed cheeks, into her cradle.

This is how it works. And in the brave new world of parenthood, we've learned that there is so much that one can't depend on, that things change more & more quickly every day, and that if anyone is so very lucky to find something in this world of babyness that is scheduled, regular, or consistent, that very fortunate parent should rejoice and exploit it to the fullest. So we have. We've loved every moment of our regularly scheduled bedtime routine. And so has baby-sweetheart. But now . . .

Now, it's back to that uncertainty. Is this a test? A new baby joke? Is baby-tricky setting us up for something? Is there some late-night party surprise happening this evening that we aren't aware of? Does this mean no more sleeping through the night? Or, is this (as babymama swears she will believe), the beginning of one less nap during the day and a few more hours of sleep at night?

Only time will tell what awaits us, so for now, here's one of those moments caught on digital and guaranteed to give you sweet dreams.

Beautiful.

. . . the g - l - a - m - o - r - o - u - s

2007-06-23T22:39:00.000-04:00

Babydaddy & mama love to take baby-cutest outside. We know that taking her outdoors is one of the things that helps build her awareness of the world, gives her new learning opportunities, and all that other stuff the books talk about with regard to infant development. Blah, blah, blah. In truth, we like to take her outside to play because it's fun for us, and we like to believe it's fun for her, too. Only time will tell if she grows up to be a happy camper, but for now, we pretend she is and that she loves the smell of grass and the feel of the wind on her balding little head.

Because babyparents want to be the very best, grown-up kind of responsible, we decided that these continued outings into the bright light of day (and late afternoon) demanded a bit of accessorizing. Now we're not talking about a pop-up tent or a cool new back-pack (although, now that babymama thinks about it . . . ). We're talking about the kind of accessorizing that's fabulous AND functional, pretty and protective, the kind of accessories that you just have to have. You know what they say when the future's so bright.

So, off to our second favorite store we went, daddy, mama and baby-blue-eyes, and wouldn't ya know it? They had just what we needed. In pink, of course.

After our shopping trip, baby-UV-protected spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out with babymama & daddy at Daffin park. She didn't seem to like her new glasses very much. She spent a little bit of time pouting, and some more time trying to lick daddy's hand, and she finally decided that they weren't her thing. Once baby-no-glare had pulled off her shades, babymama realized why that poor baby didn't like 'em. 'Too tight, mama' says baby-sweetheart.

Luckily, baby-sweetest didn't have to suffer too long for fashion. Ever the packer, babymama had an extra pair of more glamorous shades along. Oooh, the flossy, flossy.

. . . the wings, y'all

2007-06-17T23:09:00.000-04:00

With four exceptions, babymama has always disliked chicken. Unless that chicken was hanging out after being barbequed, fried, stuffed between the halves of an onion roll or prepared as a courting specialty a-la-daddy, it was not, repeat N-O-T, getting anywhere near mama's tummy.

All that changed when baby-cutest came along. After the initial months when babymama only ate a few foods (most of which were fruits), mama experienced a conversion if you will, to the church of chicken, denomination 'Wings, y'all'. Mama could not get enough of them. Grilled, fried, rubbed, barbequed and dipped into some heartburn inducing hotsauce, those wings made their way bite by dripping, delicious bite right into mama's mouth and baby's tummy. (On a side note, this made babydaddy really happy, because he was getting quite tired of eating mexican and BLTs every night).

The best wings of all were (and still are) babydaddy's wings - rubbed with love and spices and grilled to perfection right in our backyard. Babymama still asks for them, and wing-lover that he is, babydaddy is always happy to oblige.

It should come as no surprise, then, that baby-hotsauce still enjoys the wing experience, and while she can't as yet ingest them herself, she loves being as close to those wings as she possibly can. Sometimes that means watching from the window while daddy grills 'em up at home. Other times, like a recent outing to Sticky Fingers, she just wants to be as close as possible to the eater.

Incidentally, baby-sweetheart's blues name is "Fat Liver Parker" . . . but babymama takes the liberty of changing it to "Baby-fat" . . .

**BLOGGER'S NOTE: although this post says June 17th . . . that's only the date babymama tried to post it. It's actually taken 10 days to get a moment to put in the photos, so it's really going online on the 28th.

. . . the 'hawk'

2007-06-12T23:21:00.000-04:00

Baby-breck was born with a head full of soft, dark hair. So much hair, in fact, that babymama & daddy could actually style it as soon as we could pry the pink & blue knit cap off her little head. (The nurses, who both mama and daddy loved, chastened us repeatedly for not keeping her head warm enough. It seemed at times that they were going to rubber cement that thing on so we couldn't remove it after we left the hospital).

Baby-fuzzie looked, need I say it, adorable with that head of hair, and babymama secretly smiled each time she saw one of those poor bald babies running around in public.

In later days, however, babymama & daddy noticed a certain lack of hair in random patches around baby-balding's little head. It started falling out in little bits at the back, leaving a soft, dark duck tail at the nape of her neck. Then, the fall-out spread to the sides, and before long, baby-punk-rock debuted, you know it, the mohawk.

As parents who fell in love to what some might term a Celtic-Punk soundtrack, babydaddy & mama are ever so proud of baby-independent's early display of individualism, and know that it will lead to a lifetime of bravery, liberty, anarchy and hopefully, revolution.

PS: Baby-safest is only sitting in a car eating lunch. She is not riding around sans carseat.

. . . her 'affie' and a nap

2007-06-11T23:43:00.000-04:00

Days and nights are super-busy these days as babydaddy & mama practice one-handed multitasking. From bottles to diaper bags and daycare clothes to breast pumps, parents of baby-cutest juggle the strangely mountainous piles of baby necessities with other, more grown-up things like cooking dinner, doing laundry, washing dishes and vacuuming. (Ok, let's be honest, the vacuum isn't running so much these days. Lucky for us, baby-stays-put isn't mobile yet, so as long as she's on her playmats, we're all good.)

While said parents love to tote that darling baby everywhere, some tasks are just not manageable with an adorable infant on the hip - especially one that's still in need of a bit of neck support. It's moments like these that baby-brilliant spends some quality time with her Baby Einstein videos and her affie.

As you can see from the photo, baby-lotsa-drool has found that her affie is especially appetizing. She's also figured out that if she loops her fingers through the soft puffs of yarn, she can pull them right into her mouth. Yum! Thank goodness Grandma G. made such a nice size - there's plenty of puffs for baby-gummy to drool on. When one's too soggy, she just moves right on to the next one. It makes for a relaxing time for baby, and two extra hands (one each) for babymama and daddy.

Just because there's nothing cuter and more necessary for happiness than a healthy dose of adorable, babymama brings you the world-renowned baby-sweetheart in living color. Check her out as she spends a few moments of solitude napping in her froggy romper. So cute. What could be cuter? (Don't even pretend you don't know the answer to this . . .)

. . . first position

2007-06-11T22:56:00.000-04:00

Babymama can only say 'thank goodness' that baby-adorable got so much good stuff from babydaddy. She got his laid-back personality (and thankfully not mama's slightly anxious one), she has his gorgeous eyelashes (long, curved and totally wasted on a guy), and a mélange of other things-a-la-papa like his toes, fingernails and ears.

Also included in the list of great things to have from daddy, is his sense of balance and ease of movement. Princeton's wordnet calls it "elegance and beauty of movement or expression". These are things that mama doesn't have so much of, and when talking about ladies, we call these two skills by one hallowed and much coveted name: grace.

Now babymama always wanted to be a beautiful, fluid vision of grace and charm. She practiced and practiced, but somehow found those qualities just out of reach. Baby-sweetheart, however, is already showing her poise and penchant for that pinnacle of grace: le ballet.

Take as evidence baby-ballerina's near perfect exhibition of first position. Her heels are naturally aligned and just look at that turnout! Mama is so proud!

. . . daycare & the violent poo

2007-05-25T21:27:00.000-04:00

Babymama has been negligent in updating this blog over the past 2 weeks, but with good excuse. It was babymama's first week back at work and baby-adorable's first week at daycare. Baby-bravest did great, and babymama did pretty good, too, though managing the morning time is a daily task of herculean proportions. Babymama has decided that in order to really streamline the process, she needs a personal assistant, a part-time nanny, and a maid. Babydaddy disagrees, but mama feels certain she can win him over eventually.

The first day of anything is pretty important, and since 'you only get once chance to make a good first impression', babymama wanted to make sure that baby-stylish looked great for her big day. Averie's debut outfit was an adorable purple flower-print onesie with matching pants and purple socks. Mama even picked out a matching bib in reverse color print to coordinate and sort of tie the whole outfit together. Baby-cutest looked the cutest, and mama knew that she'd be the hippest looking baby in her class. Alas, her look was only to last for a few hours - the impending change of clothes would be necessitated by the emergence of the violent poo.

As new parents, babydaddy & mama receive a lot - A. LOT. - of advice and plenty of cautionary anecdotes from other parents on how to grow up baby-adorable. Everyone who shared a word or two from their own child-raisin' experience also warned us about the über-poo. 'Get ready', they cried. 'It's coming, and it's coming fast and furious', 'That stuff travels', and 'Just wait' are just a sampling of the phrases that fell from multiple tongues as we anxiously awaited the arrival of this legendary diaper surprise.

It took awhile to get here. In fact, it took a lot longer than we were told it would take. But it did arrive, and in what can only be described as a violently explosive manner. We like to call these events, 4-diaper changes, as that's usually the number of diapers it takes to get the whole mess cleaned up. They don't happen often . . . at least, until recently.

Baby-stinky-dirty broke her teachers in right-fast on her first day of 'school'. She didn't take her time warming up to them or letting them get to know her. She oh-so-sweetly and indescribably-adorably (like those modifiers?) smiled and cooed as her teacher held her for the first time, and then she demurely (at least babymama hopes this is the case) threw down the violent poo. Babymama knows this for sure because baby-poopie-bottom came home in a brand new outfit, borrowed from the daycare, even though mama put 3 extra outfits in her daycare bag.

As previously noted, the violent poo was once a rare occurrence. These days, however, it seems to happen more regularly. At least once every 2 days, baby-fashionable comes home in something other than what she was wearing when she left. Babymama is not sure if this is a result of the new activities in baby-stinky's routine or if those cute little Pampers are too small, but one thing's for sure: all that poopin' wears a girl out.

See baby-new-clothes after her very first day of daycare. Also pictured is her favorite car toy, Ricky the monkey.

. . . the ballpark sans nachos

2007-05-13T10:24:00.000-04:00

Every good babymama knows that the best part of attending sports events is the nachos. This is true of every sport and sport-like exhibition from football and basketball to hockey and baseball. While football games typically have the best nachos, those available at the Sand Gnats' games are pretty good, and babymama has been excitedly waiting to share this special treat with baby-adorable.

Saturday night, daddy and mama took baby-adorable out to the ball-game (sing it) with some friends. Babymama did not eat any nachos (dairy doesn't agree with baby-gassie's tummy), but she, daddy, and baby had a great time anyway. Babymama was a little warm from the refreshing mojitos our friends Bret and Adrienne served earlier in the evening and she forgot to break out the camera, so there aren't any photos from baby-sporty's first baseball adventure. Mama did, however, take some pix while daddy was up hangin' in the A-T-L, so you can see baby-sleepy pretending to nap while she and mama wait for that sweet daddy to come home.

. . . le langue et le petite singe

2007-05-11T23:28:00.001-04:00

In recent weeks, baby-licky has become more aware of her tongue. At first, it was just this cute little thing she did on random occasions. The cuteness began with a slow, shy smile and then a sudden flash of pink as she stuck her little tongue out at whoever happened to be looking. Now, however, baby-adorable is truly enjoying the taste of nearly everything she can maneuver to her mouth, and with her newfound grasping abilties, (ta-da! Superbaby is here!), that's a lot of stuff to cover with drool.

Her most favorite things to lick are her tummy-time boppy . . .

her little monkey toy . . .

and daddy's hand . . .

We are told by our books, our pediatrician and various other sources that this licking, or "mouthing" is good and means that baby-brilliant is getting smarter and smarter with each lick. Wonder if now's the time to work on finding the answer to that age old question . . .

"How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop?"

. . . her rectus capitis posterior minor & major

2007-05-10T11:05:00.000-04:00

Baby-strongest spends more and more happy time on her tummy each day, thanks to the amazing baby boppy and her strong muscles. Yes, her rectus capitis posteriors (major and minor) are working hard to hold up that adorable little head.

Baby-healthy is also getting longer. We hesitate to say "taller" (since she can't stand yet) so maybe vertically-larger is the best description. She's almost as long as her little leaf mat. Her last official height (length) check had her ranked in the 75th percentile. Babymama is so proud and happy that baby-tallest will be able to reach for the top shelves without a step-stool.

Now both of these growth milestones are phenomenal, but the absolute best measurement of all is the one that counts the length in inches of baby-sweetheart's feet. Her feet are long. 'How long?' you ask. 'Long,' says babymama. They are over one third (1/3) the length of mama's feet. 'And just how long is that?' you ask. 'Three and one half (3.5) inches,' says mama, whose own feet measure nine. Really. She's got some long, long, feet. And long, long toes. But aren't they cute?

. . . the ice and some tummy time

2007-05-05T11:55:00.000-04:00

Everyone who knows babydaddy knows that he loves hockey. Best hockey of all? The fierce, 5-time national champion Golden Gophers of the University of Minnesota. Second best hockey? Any well-played ice contest between any two teams that we can actually see on our home cable. So, it should surprise no one that baby-sweetest also loves hockey - (probably because of all the white and fast movement) - and spends a lot of time experiencing it.

Last night, while the NY Rangers were playing the Buffalo Sabres, baby-strongest was enjoying some tummy time (see cute video below). Babymama was trying to film in the dark, so she wasn't really watching the entire game. One thing that did stick out as she was listening, though, was the repitition of a name, one name in particular . . . a name that the announcer must've said fifty times. It stuck out because it's a name that babymama also repeats a lot during the day. "Averie, Averie, Averie . . . " except in this case, it's "Avery, Avery, Avery". Hmmm, thought babymama.

Many people ask us how we chose baby-cutest's name. "We just liked it," proud parents always reply. "It was just a name we thought was beautiful," we smile. Suddenly, babymama realizes the truth. She's been duped, and has unwittingly named her baby girl after hockey stars - a player and a coach.

That sneaky Daddy . . .

. . . her first swing, a rose, a sqare, some milk and a pizza

2007-05-03T21:00:00.000-04:00

Thursday was a busy day for baby-social. Daddy was on vacation and Auntie Sarah was visiting, so the family took a trip downtown to see the city. Baby-adorable enjoyed her first visit to Forsyth park, where she walked from the south end of the park, up past the newly renovated confederate monument to the big kids' playground so that she and babymama could spend a little time on the swings.

After her relaxing nap on the playground, baby-sweetheart took a stroll through the fragrant garden, and had her picture made next to one of the red blooms. Of course you know which is the most beautiful . . .

Next, Averie, Mama, and Auntie Sarah walked down through the squares to Gallery Espresso while daddy ran back and drove the car down to Chippewa Square. Daddy and Auntie went in to get coffee while mama and baby sat in the square. You may notice that baby-adorable is wearing her sweet, soft pink kimono. Be sure to note how cute it is, because while it appears that baby-smiley is contemplating her hand, that's not really what that little smile is all about . . . and she won't be wearing that kimono for long.

After a change of diaper and outfit, baby-poops-a-lot decided that a snack was in order, so she and babydaddy enjoyed some milk and the view from the Paris Market. Babymama noted how each passing mother smiled at baby-adorable and murmured about how daddy-adorable was so wonderful for feeding that little sweetheart. Babymama agrees.

Finally, baby-no-dairy enjoyed a trip to the Mellow Mushroom, where she watched as babymama enjoyed a no-cheese, no-butter, no-parm-sprinkle pizza. Check out those toes!

. . . recommended exercise from the Scottish government and her first state of emergency

2007-05-03T09:59:00.000-04:00

Who doesn't love a moment or two on the tummy? Baby-gassie (remember, the 'ie' makes it feminine) for one. Our pediatrician and the government of Scotland recommend 10 to 15 minutes a day of "tummy time" to help develop baby-athletic's neck and upper body strength, and to help prevent flat head syndrome also known as plagiocephaly.

Now, for sure babydaddy & mama don't want baby-cutest to get the flat head, so we dutifully place baby-fartie on her tummy every day. Only problem is, she hates, can't emphasize it enough, HATES it. Baby-screams-real-loud has a fuse of about 15 seconds when it comes to tummy time, and her struggling parents can handle it for about 2 minutes. This leaves roughly 13 minutes a day of unfulfilled tummy time obligations, and we're only banking this stuff, because that 2 minute stretch isn't increasing.

Luckily for the entire family, the makers of that all-time-best-friend of mama's, the boppy, offer a variety of products designed to make life with baby more comfortable. Babymama already has the amazing Uptown Dots Boppy, but just yesterday, at another (yes, another) trip to baby's favorite store, babymama found the Boppy Tummy Time Play Pad. The package pictured a happy, smiling baby, frolicking, if you will, on her tummy. The package baby looked so convincingly excited that babymama just had to get this special playset for Averie. Last night, we tried it out.

Baby-boppy likes it, and even reached out to grab the teethable (babymama made up that word) toys that are attached to it. Averie spent much of her tummy time licking the boppy, but we figure that's ok because she had to hold her head up to lick the tastiest spots.

This morning, baby-dangerous enjoyed her first day of heightened readiness as Governor Perdue declared a state of emergency for 21 Georgia counties, including ours. Also allegedy burning today: Beach High School. The state of emergency did not affect baby-smells-good's bath or her morning round of tummy time, which progressed well and lasted for the prescribed 15 minutes.

. . . those crazy bugs & officiality

2007-05-01T22:56:00.000-04:00

Baby-coordinated gets more so each day and is accomplishing feats of dexterity at the tender age of 10 weeks that even older babies are unable to perform. Take, for example, today's exhibition of bug batting.

For the past several days, baby-brilliant has been eyeing her Bugs on Board toys, but until today, there was no other action. Late this afternoon, Baby-sweetheart, Auntie Sarah & babymama were visiting the Clinique counter at Macy's when Averie began reaching for the dangling bugs.

Everyone present was excited to watch baby-adorable as she stretched every part of her little body, toes included, toward the ladybug and dragonfly attached to the handle of her car seat. She focused, concentrated, and reached, but couldn't quite touch them. Still, she persevered.

A short walk through the mall later, right next to the Dippin' Dots Stand, baby-coordinated made her move. See photos below . . .

Averie studies the bugs . . .

She focuses on her objective . . .

Success! Baby-advanced swats the dragonfly . . . with authority. Who dat think dey got the smartest baby? Who dat? Who Dat?

In other news, baby-official took a trip down to the county's Vital Records office and picked up her Official Certificiate of Live Birth after lunch today.

More accurately and specifically, baby-legal took a trip over to the docs office, came home, pooped out of her diaper, changed her cute outfit, threw up on mama, changed her second cute outfit and then picked up her papers. After that, a short trip to the mall, during which time she spit up on mama again, (hitting her third cute outfit of the day in the process), was the last stop before the grocery store and home.

It was a busy, but triumphant, day for all.

. . . her rattle on video

2007-04-28T20:42:00.000-04:00

Here it is . . . two minutes of rattle-shaking cuteness from baby-adorable. Also note her sweeet new 'animals on the farm' sleeper . . . complete with cows, pigs, horses and a bunch of Old MacDonald's other barnyard creatures. Jammies like this only up the cuteness ante.

The music you hear in the background is from our cable's light classical music channel. Baby-sweetheart is experimenting with new genres every day, and finds this channel perfect for practicing her own rhythms. She especially enjoyed the performace by Josh Bell, who we recently read about in the Washington Post.

. . . her bunny slippers and a book

2007-04-28T15:47:00.000-04:00

Nothing's better for lounging around than a pair of soft, fluffy, slippers. Baby-bunny-toes models her very own pair of house shoes while waiting for daddy to finish grilling her dinner on Friday evening.

Early Saturday morning, that smart baby spent some quality time with Daddy, Leonardo, and one of her favorite books.

. . . Beethoven's 1st, 3rd, 5th, 6th and 9th

2007-04-27T08:47:00.000-04:00

plus various themes from Wellington's Victory - all together with a bunch of cute babies and furry toys. This celebration of sound and cuteness comes courtesty of the Baby Einstein company, where "discovery begins".

Ordinarily, babymama doesn't let baby-smartest watch tv. Many theories abound on this subject, and we're really not sure which is the right theory, but we feel certain that too much tv can't be good at such a young age. That said, Averie received Baby Beethoven dvd at her shower . . . and since she's really interested in music and colors, we decided to try it out.

Let there be no skeptics! She loves this dvd. She sat in her little pink flower chair and watched the entire thing - smiling, laughing and staring, transfixed at the lights and colors on the screen. Babymama has decided to go shopping for Baby Mozart and others soon. In the meantime, check out baby-brilliant watching her very first round of video . . .

. . . the rattles - two fisted

2007-04-26T22:49:00.000-04:00

Baby-coordinated trains daily to improve her athleticism and hand-to-mouth-to-other-hand skills. As evidenced by the photo below, she's developed her talents to such degree that she can shake it like a polaroid picture with little effort.

. . . the DTaP and some band-aids

2007-04-24T09:15:00.000-04:00

Baby-bravest had her 2 month check-up yesterday which meant it was time for her first round of shots. She did great, and only cried a little bit, although she did show mama and daddy a new shade of purple during the very brief screaming period after the first needle went in.

Her nurse was super sweet, which made the whole thing easier for everyone. Afterwards, baby-band-aids went to her favorite store with mama to restock her supply of baby wipes. Upon her arrival home, she played with her (mama's) rattle and promptly fell asleep.

More info on baby-girl at 2 months is here.

. . . absolute cuteness

2007-04-22T19:47:00.000-04:00

Self-expression is the name of the game these days, and baby-brilliant's parents couldn't be prouder of her achievements. Each day she learns something new, and this weekend, she demonstrated a wide array of her newly perfected facial expressions.

First, her serious face:

And next, her surprised face:

Now, these next two faces may appear similar, but if you look closely, you'll see that they are in fact, two distinct expressions.

Averie laughs:

And finally, Averie smiles:

We guarantee that this is the most cuteness you've seen today, this week, and possibly even this year. And of course you want to see more, so head on over to her galleries page to view the latest slideshow.

. . . the spit-up with babymama

2007-04-18T11:59:00.000-04:00

Fans of this rockin' blog have requested photos of baby-cutest with babymama. Said mama is not photographed often as she is usually at home alone with baby girl and has nobody to take her picture. Additionally, babymama is usually the one holding the camera, so most of the photos are of baby-sweetest with daddy.

However, daddy did snap this shot of mama, baby-burps-a-lot, and some spit-up. The spit up is nearly invisible against the white burp cloth, so those of you with weak tummies (baby-eats-a-lot does not have one) don't have to turn away.

. . . sticky fingers

2007-04-18T09:52:00.000-04:00

It's been mentioned before, and on more than one occasion, but it's such a part of daily life with baby, that it's worth mentioning again.

Those little hands can hold more sticky, smelly gunk than anything else you could imagine. We are continually cleaning out her fists - and finding more and more of this gooey stuff in there every time.

Since we're new parents, babymama & daddy didn't know if this was the norm. We consulted a more experienced parent to find out that in fact, it is normal. At least it was for her baby, which makes us feel much better about the situation, and less like bad parents for allowing our child to become so stinky-dirty. (*Note: 'stinky-dirty' is a new vocabulary word that babymama learned soon after baby-adorable was born. It comes on the heels of other new words like 'fartie-poopie' - the "ie" is the feminine form, 'icky-smelly', 'sleepy-sweetie' and 'yucky-diapie').

Combatting this problem is sort of like shucking an oyster. First you pry the fingers open, then you scrape out the gooey stuff (which incidentally, baby eats raw), and then you wipe out the palms with soap, a baby-wipe or whatever cleaning agent (baby-friendly, of course) you have available. Usually, baby-fast-as-lightning gets those little fingers back into a ball and into her mouth before we've had the chance to dry them.

Brilliant babydaddy (pictured below, with baby-dry-hands) came up with the perfect solution for this dilemna.

. . . her adorable milk- face

2007-04-15T19:53:00.000-04:00

We aren't sure what we'd describe as the cutest thing baby-adorable does, as everything she does is the cutest thing. But . . .

Her milky-face has to be top 5 in that list.

Standard operating procedure for meal and snack times has Averie concluding her dinner, breakfast, lunch, second lunch, etc. with the absolutely adorable grand, milky-face finale. Said grandiose conclusion to mealtimes proceeds as follows:

First, a quick toss of the head so that baby-I'm-so-full ends up with her head tilted back and her nose pointed to the sky, eyes closed. "I'm done", her expression seems to say. Next, she throws her arms out (if she's not rocking her swaddle) and spreads out her tiny fingers, exposing whatever gunk mama & daddy missed at last bath time. Finally, she opens that tiny, rosebud mouth to sigh softly. It's at this point that the milk she hasn't yet swallowed begins to drip down her cheeks.

So cute. Never mind the sticky mess pooling under her chin in the little wrinkles of her neck while mama & daddy sit and stare at the sweet little spectacle. This is top 5 cute - actually, it's probably top 3.

. . . the park, some ducks, a nap

2007-04-14T10:52:00.000-04:00

Averie went to the park for the first time on Friday. She and mama decided it was time to get back into a serious work-out routine, so they drove on over to Lake Mayer and took out the Larson family's super cool pram.

Being outside was great for both baby-athletic and babymama. An added perk was the baby ducks we saw waddling around their own mama on the side of the walking trail. The air was fresh, the sun was bright, and babymama realized after the first half-mile that she may have over-estimated her stamina. Undaunted by the remaining length of trail, baby-sweetheart and mama pushed on to the end, and made it, happy, a little sweaty, and monumentally hungry back to the car.

Upon her arrival home, baby-worn-out promptly began her afternoon period of relaxation. See below.