Meow, Melmo and Christmas

Oh Christmas! (A recap)

Christmas Eve was lovely. The Animalia and I woke up lateish (8:30am, yes, gasp, but we're used to it now) and went to pick up a deli tray and other supplies at Costco. Then we went home and did other things but I don't remember what. Then we showed up at Nana and Tata's for lots of food and family. Eventually the kids opened presents and of course the Animalia ended up with TONS of stuff including Elmo Live! the crazy Elmo robot thing that tells stories and asks to be picked up when he's tipped over, or in this case, thrown to the ground. The Animalia was puzzled when her Elmo talked and after awhile even tried to close his mouth for him. Later, he would bite me when I accidentally pushed his foot as I was carrying him out to the car. We stayed at Nana's late and came home to get some rest before the morning and more present opening.

Christmas morning we woke up late again. We immediately got to eating and opening presents. We thought we'd be back to the Nana and Tata's by 10 but the Animalia took more time to open presents than I thought she would. She liked ripping the paper OK, even did it once or twice but once she figured out that the paper contained boxes that contained THINGS FOR HER she didn't really want to finish the unwrapping and went right to trying to pick the boxes apart. This was somewhat unsuccessful, so we finished the unwrapping for her and opened the boxes. Then she had to inspect things, play with them, touch them each before she'd move on to the next thing. This was somewhat hilarious though time consuming. She got lots of awesome stuff that she seemed to like, not the least of which was a piano from Santa Claus. She doesn't play it that much but she checks in with it every single day, pounding the keys as soon as she sees it before moving onto other things. She also likes to use it as a bench and also a step stool, something we're discouraging. She also got some mice in a box that she loves to kiss, ANOTHER ELMO, this one a TMX that laughs and speaks Spanish, clothes, stacking boxes, books, etc., etc. We made it to the Nana and Tata's house for MORE PRESENTS and breakfast about half an hour late. I think they thought we weren't coming over at all because they seemed absolutely thrilled when we arrived. Anyhow, there were more presents and there was breakfast and we were all very happy. Later, we'd all have dinner together, the Animalia showing off her toys and seeming totally excited that we were all there again, at the same time, and no one was working, and she was the center of attention.

A couple of days later she started saying Melmo, very clearly, for Elmo (duh), and not Ehrmoh, like she'd been saying before. Learning language... baby steps, people. And she finally started saying MEOW for cats. She mastered "babao" months ago but "meow" was elusive and now she says it with gusto.

I hated having to work the day after Christmas and having to suppress the desire to cuddle the Animalia indefinitely but it had to happen. We did, however, get a visit from the Nina AND the Nino and the Animalia was most happy to accept even more gifts from them. The boots the Nina gave her were a hit and she insisted on me putting them on her so she could stomp proudly around the room. She also got this cutest book with her face on the baby's face inside. We were excited about that too, probably more than she was, but she was nice and read it and had me read it to her. The Nino gave her a Sock Monkey that got besitos. It was enclosed in a lovely box that had awesome stencils on it. We'll save that one for later, when her tiny hands aren't so destructive.

This Christmas was fantastic actually. It was so much fun to have Christmas with a baby in the house and decorate and have friends over and just enjoy it. It's different (cliche, I know) when there are kids to celebrate with. It was fun. We even put up Christmas lights, a first for us, and her Daht promises to make the display more elaborate as the kid grows. Funny what kids do to us, especially the most cynical of us (me, obviously).

Next, a new year.

Abrazos a Baby Jesus

The Animalia's Nana has nativities galore and The Animalia loves them.

She loves to wave hello to all the figurines and most specially loves the Baby Jesus, tiny Baby Jesus. She's the big lumbering giant, picking him up and delicately hugging him. He's tiny in her hands. She puts him up to her shoulder and pats his back. Then she puts him back to his bed to go mimi, patting him once more for good measure.

My Little

Every day during my lunch break I run over to see the Animalia at the Nana and Tata's house. I open the door and sometimes she hears me and runs and says "Mama!" and I say "Hi, my little!" Sometimes she hugs my legs. Sometimes she throws a mini tantrum, revenge, I think, for not being there all morning. Those times her Nana says that she didn't cry til I got there. But I never touch her until I've washed my hands. Most of the time she's ok with this but sometimes she's impatient and wants me to pick her up and makes slightly angry, slightly dejected sounds. I tell her "lavando las manitas," which is actually a lyric from a song I sing her when I'm washing her up. Sometimes she knows, and it's fine, but sometimes she's still impatient after the explanation.

As soon as I can I lift her up and give her besitos. I ask for an abrazo and she mostly obliges. Sometimes she's too excited though and has to show me what she's been working on. She'll point to her project, usually a pile of libros or her Elmo that is wearing a new vestido or needs to be diapered, a packet of seeds that needs shaking or a puzzle that needs putting together. We'll go look at that for a few minutes. She starts telling me things, her own language, punctuated with the words Nana and Tata. She's telling me what they did so far and I respond appropriately with "ooohhh" and "mmmmm" and "¿si?" and "¿y luego que pasó?"

Then Nana takes over. I need to eat. Sometimes the Animalia is ready for food too though. Sometimes Nana feeds her, sometimes I do. Sometimes she acts like she's not hungry until she sees my food. Those times she wants the food off my plate and hovers around me, mouth open, like a baby bird. Sometimes she's already eaten but does the baby bird thing anyway, with me, with Nana, with Tata, with Tío Tío, whoever is there and eating.

Sometimes she hasn't napped yet and she's cranky so I take her to a quiet room, close the door behind us, and put her to sleep. Sometimes she takes me there, expecting to be put to sleep I think.

Then lunch is over and it's time to get back to work and leave the Animalia behind for a few more hours. I never actually want to leave but it's easier now that we're used to it. I guess.

Did I tell you that she's a puppy?

Did I tell you that she's a puppy, or more specifically a babao?

Here are the signs:
1. When asked, "¿Como te llamas?" she answers, "¡Babao!"
2. She's into tipping her food out of her bowl and onto her high chair tray and just eating it straight from the tray, no hands! She'll also eat from my hand like that, not even bothering to take the Cheerios from me with her own hands, just mouth to hand.
3. She cannot be trusted around dog food. She hasn't eaten any yet, that we know of, but sure seems fascinated by it. She'll even say "Babao" when she approaches it.
4. She'll drag around Cooper's leash and collar as long as we let her, all day even.
5. She loves his tags, wants them even, gets mad at Cooper when she's playing with them, still attached to his collar, still around his neck, and he moves away from her. She gets MAD.

Poor Cooper

Poor Cooper. First he was replaced by this tiny screaming pooping thing named Animalia. Then, when he reconciled himself with that, we wouldn't even let him lick her. He didn't want to bite her, he just wanted to lick her and nudge her some. Sometimes he even wanted to protect her from other dogs and random noises. Sure, he knocked her over a couple of times. She wasn't steady on her feet then and he can't help weighing 100lbs and all he did was brush up against her. He was sorry those times, he even whined appropriately. But he thought they'd finally gotten to the point where they could be friends. The Animalia would pet him and sometimes pull on his ears and he'd sit patiently and desperately fight the urge to lick her tiny face. Sometimes he'd lay next to her and roll over and she'd pat his belly. She'd even share her Cheerios with him, giggling as he licked them out of her hand. He was happy those times, even if we told them both No. He'd even learned, somewhat grudgingly, that we weren't always referring to him if we said the word papa.

But now. She starts saying "NO!" when he's within two feet of her and will complain loudly when he's too close to her or her stuff. The answer to the question "¿Que dice Cooper?" The Animalia says "¡NO!"

Poor Cooper.

Love, love, love.

So the Animalia was invited to the Peanut's birthday party. She started out upset, a little nervous I think, because of all the people. When we walked in and her Daht tried to put her down she wailed Mama over and over again and seemed so sad. The Peanut's Nana said "Tiene vergüenza." Then Elmo showed up, walked right through the back gate, and she was fine. She was more than fine, going on a hugging rampage. First she loved all over Elmo (picture coming soon). Then she loved all over the birthday girl. The birthday girl was just not having it though. She wasn't totally angry, she was tolerant, but that was it. Tolerant. The Animalia however was full of bliss for her friend, hugging her more than once, much to the Peanut's dismay. This photo prompted an observation from the Nina that "Why is [Animalia] me and [Peanut] you?"

The Tantrums

The following conversation is not imagined but rather inferred.

Me (singing): Poniendo los pantalones, pantalones, pantalones.
Animalia giggles.
Me (singing): Poniendo los calcetines, calcetines, calcetines.
Animalia giggles again.
Me: ¡Manitas pa'rriba!
Animalia complies happily.
I take off her shirt to replace it with a clean one.
Animalia screams: MOTHER. I DO NOT WANT TO WEAR A SHIRT TODAY. ONLY PANTALONES AND CALCETINES. PERHAPS ZAPATOS. PERO NO QUIERO UNA CAMISA. NO. NO. NO.



Right after her first birthday she started throwing these tiny little frustrated tantrums. I've read that it's right developmentally, no big deal, but damn. They only last a minute or so, sometimes less, but still. Damn. She just TELLS me but good. Sometimes she throws herself backward and if I'm right next to her, I'll grab her and lower her tiny little head to the ground where she'll proceed to roll back and forth for a minute until she's not as mad anymore. This also happens when we take something away from her. You know, like a dime or a button or something else tiny and potentially hazardous. Sometimes, unconciously, we take something away from her that isn't hazardous and she gets mad before we realize that we took a spoon or a cheerio, something totally safe. Sometimes she finds an errant cheerio on the ground and puts it in her mouth and we see her chewing and automatically sweep the mouth only to get smooshy cereal on our fingers and a guilty look from the Animalia that says, "What the hell?! Why did you force my papa out of my mouth? I was eating!" And then she screams and we feel bad and give her whatever it was we mistakenly took away and also we apologize. Profusely. Because she's rolling around on the floor and at that particular moment, we could have avoided it by not taking our eyes off of her for a second and knowing, somehow, maybe telepathically, that it was indeed JUST A CHEERIO.

More zapato tales

So The Animalia. Last night, she put on her own shoe. Isn't that amazing? Isn't she brilliant? Putting on her own shoe, patting her pansa proudly, wiggling her foot at me to show me and her Da. OK, so she put the shoe on the wrong foot. Whatever. That part of the story is inconsequential. So is the part where she insisted on walking around, one shoe on (the wrong foot), one shoe off, and she kept stumbling because it was on the wrong foot. Inconsequential I say. But so damn cute, and also accomplished, I had to call her Nana to make a cuteness report.

"Who am I?" she asked.

So I have no idea who I am anymore. The Animalia got a birthday party invitation, a very special Elmo invitation for a 2nd birthday party for a kid that we love. And on the Elmo invitation it said that Elmo himself would make an appearance. And I got too excited. Animalia, I told her, and all she did was look for her Elmo puppet. Me, I started talking about how totally cool that was and I wondered what Animalia would do and it was going to be awesome, etc, etc.

Now I don't doubt that it'll be great but really. Who am I? I also think this when I'm doing storytime at work (so not me) and dancing and jumping and singing with the kids. When I do the Itsy Bitsy Spider with no sarcasm in my voice. When I don't automatically yell at kids for being loud or running around like animals. It's still crazy to me that kids actually like me, they did before I was even interested in the topic of them.

I guess Animalia has given me patience and more ability to be goofy but I still identify with people who don't have kids and don't plan to. The Nina told me, in a completely unrelated conversation, that I wasn't a Smug Parent. I'm glad of that. This new identity is still sometimes a little strange to me.

Tuberculosis

So I get a text from the Nina a day or two ago. She asks how Animalia is and I say sick and she says her niece, the almost 2-year-old Peanut, is sick too. With tuberculosis, according to the Peanut herself. And I start to feel guilty.

What happened was...
On Monday, the Animalia woke up cranky but I completely disregarded the mood. We were going to meet the Nina and her sister and a couple of babies for breakfast. We went to Target first as it was kind of on the way and then proceeded to Cracker Barrel. Animalia fell asleep between Target and Cracker Barrel, and though I thought she'd wake up shortly after smelling food, she slept through most of breakfast. During this time, I held the baby Lito, who is so smoooshy and cuuuute, and we all chatted. The Animalia finally woke up... snnneeeeze! Runny nose. Eating. Saying hi to the other babies. Snnnneeeeze! I'm like, maybe it's allergies, because she didn't wake up that way. Her eyes start running. Someone says that her eyes are running so it's a cold. I'm puzzled as she doesn't usually get sick that quickly, it's more of a gradual thing that warns us in subtle ways, but the only warning I got was the cranky wake up. Sucks.

So the Animalia is sick. A cold. And now, because of us, two other babies are sick. Yes, there has been a text message exchange... "I don't want to be THAT mom." (The mom who takes sick children where there are other babies with complete disregard for what we'll all have to go through that night when the baby can't breathe). The reply was not to worry, I'm really not that mom. But I feel like THAT mom. I just do. Especially because the tiny baby Lito is little and tiny and colds when they're that small are SO MISERABLE. So, in this very public venue, I'm sorry on bringing the plague to your house. You know who you are.

Another word.

Last night the Animalia said "TOES!" She was actually sitting on the floor at her Da's feet and suddenly started saying Da Tooooes. The T in toes was a soft T, almost a D. And the ooooo was almost oooohhhh but not quite. It was, however, clearly toes.

It was, quite honestly, one of the cutest moments yet.