I laughed my head off

Chloë and I went out shopping Monday to get some fruit and other things. We decided to stop at Meijer for "Daddy's special drink" (cans of powdered Gatorade). Chloë needed to pee, so we stood inside the bathroom while she did so and I told her we'd change her in the car if there was a Pull-Up in the diaper bag. We bought the Gatorade (and looked at the fish in the pet section) and went back to the car, where Chloë reminded me hopefully to look for a Pull-Up. We had one, so I had her stand in the front seat to be wiped and changed. "When you're three, you're going to be too big to be changed like this," I muttered as I held the Easy-Up out so she could step into it. "Of course, when you're three you're not going to be changed at all. You'll be in underwear."

Chloë looked worried and I braced myself for a discussion about how she doesn't like using the potty. "But I will still be Chloë," she said.

I laughed and agreed, "You'll still be Chloë," and helped her into her carseat. When I got into my own seat I turned on the air conditioning and said, "Let's blow this popsicle stand!", expecting her to ask "what popsicle" or somesuch. Instead, she sucked in a breath and blew.

Status report: Maia, month 13

Oh my Maia, the walker. In just the past few days she's shifted from mostly crawling to mostly walking. It's still that funny, move-the-whole-leg-as-one-unit walk, but it won't be for long. I told her months ago that I'm allowed to call her a baby until she walks, but I changed my mind. I'm allowed to call her a baby until she can tell me to knock it off. Even if saying it doesn't make it true.

One of her books is Sandra Boynton's Moo, Baa, La La La, and I've noticed she especially likes the little dogs (they go ruff ruff ruff). We read Biscuit the other day and she pointed to Biscuit and panted like a dog. And I was delighted because that's exactly how Chloë used to identify dogs, and then to identify the noise they make. Ask her now and she says, "Dogs say wuff wuff." But Maia has taken up the mantle! I love it!

"Cheese" is definitely her first word. We may be working on "ball," but I'm not positive yet. I've asked her to say "up," but whenever I do she just raises her arms, which is "up," so I can't really argue.

She climbs stairs now--did I mention? She loves climbing the stairs. At first she was off like a shot whenever we forgot to put up the gate, but now she looks and waits for our approval before she climbs. She's much more adventurous than Chloë was at this age (or ever); she rocks the rocking horses hard, stands up on them, climbs up and down and around.

She's also gotten interested in her stuffed animals lately. There are a few in her crib, and the past few nights I've offered one to her. Sometimes she'll shake her head, and sometimes she'll accept it and hug it to her as I lay her down to sleep.

In just the last few days she's gone from a water baby to water-phobic and...probably...back again. She generally can't wait to get in the bath, but the last two baths she cried the entire time she was in the water. I vaguely recall a phase like this with Chloë, in which we got in the bath with her at least a couple of times to make things easier. I tried putting my feet in the water so she could hold onto me while I scrubbed her this last time, but it didn't help. Then, we went over to Nancy and Don's for Memorial Day, and Maia had her first barefoot-in-the-grass experience, and also her first splashing-in-the-water-table experience. Her bath yesterday went just fine. So we'll hope that was a momentary phase.

As mentioned, she didn't get to eat her birthday cake because she was sick; but Mom and Dad sent us an anniversary cake, and she had some of that instead. She enjoyed it. A lot.

On a different occasion we also gave her something chocolate. I forget what. Does it matter? She loved it. Not just a baby, I guess.

(We started her on using a spoon, but haven't been real serious about it. Second baby syndrome, I can see it.)

She likes playing with the diaper pail and in the garbage, though she doesn't like the yelling she gets once we notice. And she LOVES books. Loves them. A lot. With a lot of love. She points to them before, after, and during nursing. She loves to slide down from my lap, point to one, and wait for me to pull it out and hoist her back up. Sometimes I show them to her, as with her stuffed animals, and she'll either shake her head, grinning at her power, or make an interested noise and settle back in my arm, and I'll start to read. She screams when we say "enough" and put her to bed.

She's a funny, happy girl, on the move, and I think falling over that precipice of "good grief how can she learn so much so fast." She's definitely expressing her wants and preferences, and becoming all the time more independent, knowledgeable, dextrous, and capable. And beloved.

Status report: Chloë, Month 34

At just two months to go before her birthday, I sometimes forget that Chloë is still two. "I'm two!" she said the other day, in response to my idle question. "No you're not," I said scornfully, and then remembered that she was, and had to pretend that I'd been joking ("You're seventeen!") to save face. In front of my two-year-old.

But really. She speaks so well, except for Ss, and she remembers things, and makes up songs, and notices things I don't, and can be so eloquent on what she's feeling and thinking and wanting. Oh, the wanting. She's very good at demanding things. Also at saying "You don't tell me what to do." She's funny to listen to sometimes, when we tell her to, for example, put down the Swiffer and come put pajamas on, and she goes into this long explanation that doesn't explain anything: "But I have to. Because I, because I, because I don't, and I need the Swiffer, and I don't want to, I don't want pajamas, I want more naked time, and you don't tell me what to do, and Mama doesn't tell me what to do, and Maia doesn't tell me what. To. Do." 

She's definitely been getting more time-outs this month. I don't think it's an unreasonable amount, just a normal testing of boundaries, but it does take up some time. 

Also, the potty thing. Dude. We switched her to Easy-Ups, to see if getting away from her beloved diapers would help, but it doesn't seem to be the comfort of the diapers specifically that holds her in thrall; it's the not going in the potty. I've been getting her to sit on the potty at night, Easy-Up on, and was able to persuade her to do it bare-bottomed once, though only for a few seconds before she started crying. I swear we didn't tie her to a potty and beat her or anything. Why is this so traumatic for her?

And sleep continues to be our other big trial. She's still taking hours, sometimes, to fall asleep, and feels free to roam around her room as long as I don't catch her (the standing rule is that if she's out of bed, she doesn't get a story the next night). Half the time she ends up sleeping on the floor, like so:

If she's in a really ridiculous position, we'll move her; if not, we've been leaving her. She sometimes ends up in her bed come morning anyway. She doesn't like going down for a nap, either, but she definitely still needs it. Switching her to an afternoon nap may have been part of the problem, but it may also have been merely another symptom. This situation is still developing.

On to happier topics. She had her first real haircut this month, meaning anything other than my straight-across-the-front bang job. The hairstylist was marvelous. I'd been worried since Chloë has hated the head/hair part of baths forever, and consistently screams and wails when any bit of water gets in her face, but the hairstylist managed her perfectly, reassuring her and getting no water whatever in her face, and Chloë was perfectly behaved and even excited about having gotten through it without tears. (Also, the stylist mentioned that normally with the really little kids she doesn't shampoo them, just spritzes their hair with water in the chair. But Chloë didn't take the soft option!) She liked the especially-for-kids cape she got to wear:

She didn't get impatient while her hair was being cut, and kept as still as you could reasonably expect a toddler to do. Such a big girl. She went from this:

to this: 

and is utterly pleased by the seven seconds it now takes to comb her hair on bath night. I've now adopted part of the hairstylist's technique when rinsing Chloë's hair (the key is bringing the showerhead really close to her head), and we're doing a little better on baths now. 

As Eric noted recently, she's turned a corner on eating; now unless the food is meant to be eaten with hands, like pizza, she almost never requires more than a napkin after meals, and can handle her fork and spoon with aplomb. She's slowly learning to cut (we have a knife but have only brought it out once or twice, but she's doing okay with the fork edge) and has been practicing drinking from a big-girl cup at meals and at tooth-brushing, and doing excellently. Normally she doesn't like water, but she gulps it expertly and greedily at bedtime. Otherwise it's mainly her new favorite, mango juice.

She got a Dora compendium when Mom came for Maia's birthday, and we've read very little else with her ever since. "How about a tory from the book that Gwampa gave me," she would say, and we'd groan. Lately she's been willing to hear something else once in a while, but Dora still features heavily, both in bedtime reading and in my nightly oral story, and also shows up in pretend play once in a while. That girl gets around.

She continues to enjoy working in the garden and baking with me (she decided the other day that she wanted peanut butter cake with chocolate frosting for her birthday cake--birthdays are big lately too), and playing with her Duplos and train tracks, and eating Maia's yogurt melts. She delights in sharing food with Maia--especially so when it's a baby treat, such the melts or the "baby trail mix" I make out of Cheerios, puffs, melts, and dried apple bits, but she's also happy to share a bowl of Goldfish crackers or a string cheese. "We're sharing!" she announces, all pleased.

She's still a little skittish about cars and trucks in the road, and will say urgently "Hold my hand!" when we're getting out of the car in a parking lot, though that may just be her general sense of what the rules are. "No talking with your mouth full," she reminds me at dinner occasionally (sometimes when my mouth isn't full), and "No throwing," when I toss a toy off the table. She also enjoys telling her little sister the rules.

The park and bubbles are very big with her right now, as is (sigh) being "a princess," which mainly involves putting on her tiara and some jewelry and then maybe pretending her string of beads is a guitar or a horsey. Her exposure to princesses is mostly in Dora rescuing them (and in one of those stories, becoming one, but only for the purpose of rescuing her friend Boots), but she's obviously picked up that they're desirable things to be. Luckily she also still enjoys being an astronaut and a cowgirl (man, she rocks those horses hard), a bridge-builder and a shark. 

She's gotten through the "I don't like kisses" phase she was in a few weeks ago, which makes us happy. I told her "I love you," as I was hugging her good-night today and she said, "I love you too," matter-of-factly. I suppose it is very matter-of-fact, on both sides, but it's still a wonder and a joy, and so is she, even if she's also a trial sometimes. I'm probably a bit of a trial as a mommy sometimes. But we're getting through all right.

Say "tzhchshe" and smile

Maia walked twenty-one steps the night before last. She's getting more and more confident about being on her feet. Oh, my baby. Stretching toward toddlerhood. I think she's got a first word, too: "tzhchshe," which means, "cheese." We've also heard her say "dow" when being put in the tub (when we invariably say either "one two three, up....one two three, down" or "up we go...down we go") and I was amused thinking that maybe I'd have one daughter with the first word "up" and the other with the first word "down," but I think "tzhchshe" may have beat it out. Eric doesn't think it counts because she also says it when we read her new mirror book page that says "The sun has a sunny smile...say cheese!" but I think all that means is that she recognizes the word.

Yesterday after I came home from work Eric went upstairs for a nap, and while I probably should have taken the girls outside, I was tired too and suffering from allergies and didn't feel like it. So instead we hung out inside and watched a couple of Dora episodes. And it felt so good: lounging on the couch, cool and resting after a long day and a warm car ride, Chloë beside me clutching her beloved mango juice, Maia lolling against my leg as she played with a plastic bowl and occasionally pointed to the TV. "This is so great!" I said. "We're going to do this same thing in ten years! We'll have popcorn and watch chick flicks."

Chloë asked "What is popcorn?" and I got derailed trying to explain, but I didn't lose that feeling of being intensely where I should be, where I wanted to be, happy. I don't have that feeling much. But I don't think I'm really going to have to wait ten years to have it again.

More conversations with Chloë

Chloë (pointing to a spot on the ceiling): Is that a spider?
Jenny: It might be. It's too small for me to tell.
Chloë: Maybe it's a jaguar.
Jenny: It's too small to be a jaguar.
Chloë: A baby jaguar.

Chloë: Want me to sing another song, Mama?
Jenny: Sure. Let's hear a song about Maia.
Chloë: Maia, mister sister, steals my drink, steals my drink, steals my drink, steals my drink!
Jenny (laughing): Now let's hear one about Daddy.
Chloë: Daddy steals my drink, steals--
Jenny: Daddy doesn't steal your drink, silly.
Chloë: Daddy puts me in time out, puts me in time out, puts me in time out, he's a hero!
Jenny: Now I want to hear one about me.
Chloë: Mommy steals, steals, steals, steals.
Jenny (resolving not to clean Chloë's plate after dinner anymore): I'm not so impressed by that one.



Chloë: My hot chocolate spilled!
Jenny (on the glider with Maia): Here. [throws rag] Wipe yourself up with this.
Chloë (doing so): It spilled on the floor too.
Jenny: Try to clean it up too. Press down on the hot chocolate spot.
Chloë: It's not working. I need a wipe.
Jenny: Okay, go get one.
Chloë: [gets a wipe, wipes] It's working!
Jenny: Very good.
Chloë: See, I'm scrubbing it. You can do it next time I spill hot chocolate. I'll show you how. You just scrub, like this.
Jenny: Thanks for telling me how it's done.

Miss Maia knows

Miss Maia knows things! She can point to her ears, her nose, her head, her mouth, her belly, her toes. And to yours. She might be able to point to Chloë's, but Chloë is too busy doing it herself.

Miss Maia knows when I say "Lie down for diaper change" to drop down onto the changing table and wriggle around until she's on her back. She raises her arms when told "Arms up!" and can pull loose pants off when told. Of course, she can do it when she hasn't been told, too.

Miss Maia has started screaming at night when we put her down. Bedtime used to be this lovely soft ritual: pajamas, nursing, a couple of books, tooth brushing, night-nights, and being put down in her crib with her aquarium on. Now she's cooperative right until we get through the night-nights. Then, suddenly, she's wriggling and pointing at the glider (which means either "milk" or "books") and squealing, and instead of lying down and looking up at her aquarium she sits up and screams in rage. I've been a little worried that I haven't had enough milk for her at bedtime, but we've offered bottles and sippies and water and it isn't that. She just doesn't want to sleep because there's too much other fun stuff to do instead. Apparently Chloë is already a bad influence.

She's still not quite walking, but she takes three or four steps at a time now, sometimes. We've been out in the backyard a lot the past couple of weeks to do yardwork, and Maia gets put in the (sandless) crab sandbox she got for her birthday, with a blanket and the singing refrigerator she also got for her birthday (not from us, be assured) and some other toys. Aside from eating the grass, she does quite well. I know she'd rather be out with us, but she seems content with her lot.

I call her "baby" more often than "Maia," the same way I call her sister "sweetie" and "Miss Girl" and "Miss Bear" more than "Chloë." Of course Maia also gets called Sweetie and Miss Girl and Miss Baby. Chloë has taken to saying, "Maia or me?" when we say things that might be ambiguous...or things that really aren't, like "Use two hands to hold your cup." But I wonder how long I'll be able to call her baby. I want to, even though I know the toddler phase will be better, partly because I don't feel like I've had enough of her at this stage yet. What a lovely, sweet, giddy, smart, funny baby she is. How much she knows. And how much her mama loves her. Miss Maia knows that too.

Conversations with Chloë

Chloë (awakening at 2 AM): Mama! Mama!
Jenny (hurrying to her door): Yes?
Chloë: I want to wear my green shorts in the morning.
Jenny: ...Okay. Go back to sleep.

Chloë: Mama, it's raining! Are you going to get wet?
Jenny (carrying three bags and a plate of conciliatory baked goods): Yes.
Chloë: Okay.

Jenny: You have a lot of nice Dora underwear. And pink, and white, and with polkadots.
Chloë: I like my polka dot underwear. You should get polka dot underwear too, Mama.
Jenny: Maybe I will.
Chloë: It would be biiiiiig.
Jenny: ...
Chloë: The polka dots would be small.

Chloë (awakening at 3 AM): Mama! Mama!
Jenny (hurrying to her door): Yes?
Chloë: I want you to tuck me back in.
Jenny: Go back to sleep.

Eric (as Maia is throwing food onto the floor for the third time): Maia Verity!
Chloë: Maia Verity. Maia Verity. Verity?
Jenny: Verity is Maia's middle name. Like your middle name is Leeja.
Chloë: What is your middle name?
Jenny: Actually, it's the same as yours. Leeja.
Chloë: Mommy Leeja.