. . . a prayer

"Mama."

Just like that.  It is a statement, not a question, not a calling, neither a wish nor a command, just a statement.  

Mama.

"Ma-ma," said the baby.

"Maaaaah-maaaahhhhh," said the toddler.

"Ma-ma?" said the three-year-old-adorable.

"Mama," says the five-year-old.

"Mama. You know, I pray every day."

Actually, Mama did not know that, not in the way the grown-up-girl means it.  Not in the way that clearly means "on my own", "not with you", not at meal or bed times, but "all by myself".

"You do, Averie?"

"Yes. Everyday, Mama.  I pray every day."

"Mama, do you remember that day when I went to go tt and then there was a spider, that big, huge, humongous, spider, in my potty? Do you remember, Mama? Every day, when I go in the bathroom, I pray every day that the spider won't be in the potty."

A.men.

. . . the vernacular

Four-year-olds have a lot to say.  There is a lot going on in their worlds, and a lot going on in their minds.  Regarding her world, Averie says:

"If we don't have sugar, then little kids can't have any candy."
"I love this salad dressing. Italian, its my favorite. I'll eat it 'til I go to heaven."
"Mama, please can you plant a tomato tree?"
"That music was hittin' on me. I felt it and I was like, just dancin'."
"This ice cream is making me hot hands."
"Mama, I rub your kisses in so they stay in my heart."

Wait, what? 

Did you say, "Awww, that's adorable?" 

Thought you did.

. . . le ballet

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

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.

... sweet nothings

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 interrogative

Today.

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

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

. . . it all by herself

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?"

. . . a phrase or two

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."

. . . a serious face

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

. . . a need for personal space

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."

. . . lotsa language

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

. . . 25 things

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. ***

. . . the 'hawk'

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.

. . . absolute cuteness

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.