family weekend

E and I have been visiting family this weekend, and she played with her cousins WITHOUT ME for long periods of time, and quite happily! No outbursts to speak of. Either the cousins were tolerating her extremely well or she was actually following some social rules, or some of both maybe. She had one good, long, happy day today. I would describe her mood as "joyous" almost the whole day. Too bad I didn't take a single picture.

One cute saying: when she wants to get everyone's attention from another room, she shouts "Hey, everyguys!!"

One small triumph for me: at the family reunion I got her to take a few bites from a fried chicken leg by calling it a chicken nugget on a stick.

here come the singing princesses

Here is another video from 2 weeks ago. E has been doing variations of this since then. She's a princess, she's a ballerina, she's a Cinderella girl. And what all those kinds of people do is DANCE. And then people clap. And you say "I did it!" and everyone hugs each other at the end. She has been adding high-pitched nonsense singing to her routine and I will get video of that one day. She was doing it last night but by the time I got the camera set she told me firmly to stop making movies.

Love is good for your heart

Writing affectionate notes reduces cholesterol!

likes and dislikes

E has decided (for now) that she doesn't like insects, and she doesn't like for stoplights to be green. She doesn't like for me to like them green, either. Apparently, we have to like the same things.

Yet, she hears a song on the car radio and says "This is my song. Mommy, you not like this song. This MY song."

parade princesses

A few weeks ago, E and I went with my sister and her kids to our old hometown and we saw the Watermelon Festival parade. The trip has many blog-worthy components that will take me weeks (at my pace) to upload and write about, but here's the start. One of the things E liked about the parade was all the "princesses," big and small.

new members of the family

I'm so excited! E has started to name her dolls and animals. A few days ago she was trying out names, changing them every time you asked. But now it's clear that she has attached certain names to certain dolls. I only know two of them so far: Dorothy and Wally. David said she named her black and white cat Emily. The other day she said something to me about "Emily" doing something, and I said "Who's Emily?" She said it was someone on Wizard of Eyes and I realized it was Auntie Em. Someone refers to her as Emily once I think.

More Wizard of Oz (Eyes) influences:

She said, out of the blue, "You cut me to the quick!" Surprised, I asked "Who says that?" She said "the old man on Wizard of Eyes" and then I remembered the wizard saying it.

Cutest thing is when we open the door to go out in the morning, she opens it slowly as she peers out and says, "It's Munchkin-land!"

her own style

These pictures were taken Saturday morning on our walk to the local coffee shop. E is wearing a new ballerina dress (over her tutu), a gift from an elegant Italian colleague of mine. She felt beautiful indeed.


She says she likes to ride her trike slowly, and that she does. It makes a loud squeak that, somehow, I like.

no way around it

I (we) need to cook. I was just reading something I didn't want to know and really already did but didn't want to face: the food that's easiest and tastiest to our family is really bad for you. (Read the article by clicking here.) Fast food was a big treat when I was a child - going to Hardee's or Burger King was a special event! It was rare. For E, I think she knew what the drive-thru was before she could talk. One of the first full sentences I remember her uttering was "that thing going to talk to you" as we approached the drive-thru. So of course I wasn't surprised to find out about our high cholesterol. No wonder, for a lot of things.

All the "tips" I read for getting a two year old to eat better involve preparing food at a more advanced level than making a sandwich or putting something frozen on the toaster oven. And I do not want to invest the time and effort (thinking, planning, learning, modeling...) but I need to. I have a plan to start simply and I know it's not rocket science. You who offer advice to "throw this in with that" when making dinner just don't understand how little we cook at our house. There's no menu planning, and the 3 of us don't eat the same meals or even at the same time. ANY effort is going to to be extraordinary for us. Boiling pasta or making a salad pretty much feels like it takes too long to me! I have just an hour window when I get home from work before it's time to give E her bath and start getting ready for bed. She needs to be asleep by 7:30 or 8, ideally, and starts being over-tired-unreasonable around 7.

So my first efforts will have to be on the weekends. Food, money, and energy will be wasted, but I'll try.

(By the way, I'm not asking for advice here, because it overwhelms me. Just making a public statement to boost my commitment!)

*sigh*

Mommy, you say "Here come the ballerinas!"

wired at bedtime

This was taken about 8 pm last night. E is saying "I'm going to bite you!" (in a friendly way!)

attention to schedules

After my hair appointment the person says to me, "Would you like to schedule...?" I'm saying yes and discussing the date, not paying attention to E in her stroller who is trying to insert herself into the conversation and try out the word "schedule".

So finally she grabs my pants leg and says, in a firm voice like a pint-sized parent, "You need to 'tention, Mommy." So I look at her and then her expression changes from firm to patient as she repeats herself for my benefit: "I don't love schedules."

teach her the serenity prayer, please

Miss Cranky-Pants had fits about the following, while we were driving to the sitter's house this morning:

a) what I was wearing
b) the direction in which I was driving
c) progress and technology

E: "What's that ladder, Mommy?"

me: "I think it's a cell phone tower. It picks up signals in the air." (blah blah blah)

E: (suddenly angry and crying) "I want to see something different in the sky!!!"

Now, children, work yourself into a lather, rinse with tears, and repeat - even louder.

what they dream about

E just whined loudly in her sleep and I went to see if she was okay. She opened her eyes halfway and told me, "I need green soap! Not red soap!" Then she rolled over and got quiet.

back in business

My computer monitor is working reliably again, thanks to David and one of his friends who gave us a "spare" video card. (It's so foreign to me to think of having extra computer parts just lying around.)

We had a good weekend visit with Grandma Mickey and Grandpa Bud, up in the cool Virginia mountains. And they took us on a scenic steam train ride in Cass, West Virginia, with a one-of-a-kind steam locomotive designed for logging, called a Shay engine. It has gears instead of pistons so the wheels don't look the same and it doesn't sound the same (except for the whistle). E did well on the 5 hour trip, spending her time playing with toys from my bag, eating snacks, swinging with her sharp little elbows on my knees, sucking her thumb and cuddling her blanket. There were a few opportunities to stop and stretch our legs. She enjoyed picking flowers. On the long car ride there and back, one of her most engrossing tasks was unlacing and relacing (creatively) her shoes. "This shoe is suss-ter-ated!" (or something like that) was what she would yell out suddenly when she got frustrated.

One of the latest demands she has of me is to sing "This Old Man" over and over while she stares at my mouth (apparently trying to memorize the words I guess). She refused to sing it herself, vehemently, for the longest time but finally this weekend sometime she let herself slip and offered up some of the lines. In the long car rides I also made the mistake of trying to entertain her with that finger play song, "Where is Thumbkin?" She now thinks it must be done with a "rubber ducklet hat" on one of the fingers (a baby bottle nipple). That song is now on the play list too.

analogy

E was sort of blowing her nose, in & out, and wanted me to hear the mucus noises. I offered her a tissue. She said she didn't need one, because "it's just gas in my nose."

not a pie

This weekend E and I took a trip with my sister Helen and her kids. In the minivan, MC (3 1/2) said to E (2 1/2), "We're up high!"

E misheard her and said, "I'm not a pie! I'm a little girl named _____!"