Chatty McChatterson she is

It's true. The Animalia has continued to become a chatterbox of incredible proportions. She's huge, chatting-wise, not really enormous physically (though she is tall, just not wide). In the last week or so we've heard a million new words. Or so.

Panta (pansa), moush (mouth), nose, babao papa (dog food), petatos (zapatos), toalla/tahwoh (towel), Elma (the name she's given to one of her dolls that is dressed in red like Elmo), aaaaahhhp (up), daahhhun (down). There are more but I can't seem to remember them right now, probably since I should be working instead of blogging. She is also adorably doing more and more of the motions to both Wheels on the Bus and Itsy Bitsy Spider, English and Spanish versions.

Some of these exaggerated spellings are feeble attempts to illustrate how exaggerated she actually says certain words, mostly English ones. I don't know why this is, or why she upspeaks a lot of the time. It's either because we speak more exaggeratedly in English. Or that she's Brit-tish. Not sure.

Krishna

One of my coworkers thinks Animalia looks like a baby Krishna. She showed me a postcard that she's had for years and I really couldn't argue with her. This isn't the picture, but the closest I could find to it (too lazy to power up the ol' scanner). Anyhow, you get the idea. I have to say, after seeing the picture she showed me, I really couldn't argue.

The Animalia in DC

The Animalia chasing pigeons on the Mall a few days after the Inauguration.

There were several spectators and other paparazzi.

Oh Inauguration!

The Animalia, she was, as per usual, excellent on the flights both to and from Washington, DC. Changing flights in Dallas, we even got the ultimate compliment-- "We didn't even know there was a baby on the flight!" "Thank you, thank you," I said, as if it were all my doing. I guess my baby, seasoned traveler that she is, just loves to fly. Thank the lord.

We got there in the middle of the night and once we got to the Nina's brand-spanking-new apartment, The Animalia spotted the air mattress and threw herself upon it. She was exhausted.

We woke up the next morning, and the Animalia, not getting nearly enough sleep, wailed like I was stabbing her with a hot poker. She wailed as I put on her many layers of clothing. She wailed when I put on her very-necessary-for-several-hours-in-20-degree-cold snowsuit. She screamed when I put on her warm cozy boots. It was a tight fit getting her in the sling, both of us layered, but we made it.

Then we waited in line. And the Animalia fell asleep. She was asleep through the wait, she was asleep through most of it. She was even asleep when the crowd cheered as President Obama took the oath of office. She was asleep. But the baby, she was there, something that we'll tell her when she's older and she reads about it in school. She was there.

Later, we ended up at Mr. Henry's for mmmmm papas! She ate turkey vegetable soup with gusto, my poor tired baby. Then we went to the Nina's old place, full of people, and the poor tired baby let the very energetic Peanut boss her around. "¡No en el piso! ¡Es sucio!" The Peanut told her as she slumped exhaustedly on the floor. She did, however, briefly energize when The Peanut brought a box, probably from the trash, and ordered her "Tiralo." And Animalia did. And she was happy.

Slightly nervous about the trip.

We're crazy. CRAZY. We're taking the baby to the Inauguration. LIKE MANIACS, WE'RE CRAZY.

We fly in the night before, actually early morning before, as our flight gets there at 12:30AM! BECAUSE WE'RE CRAZY. And not at all crazy like foxes, more like crazy like crazy people.

Can't wait to see the Animalia all dressed up for WINTER though. AND WHEN I SAY WINTER I MEAN THE KIND OF COLD THAT NORMAL PEOPLE DON'T TAKE THEIR SMALL CHILDREN TO. ONLY CRAZY PEOPLE DO THAT. JUST LIKE ONLY CRAZY PEOPLE WRITE ABOUT THEIR INSANITY IN THEIR BLOGS IN ALL CAPS LIKE YELLING. CRAZY PEOPLE!

Mou!

Me: Animalia, enseñame la rodilla.
Animalia points appropriately.

Me: ¿Y donde está tu nariz?
Again, she shows me.

Me: ¿Y que hace la doctora?
Animalia pokes her thigh and then whimpers. (Poor baby, I feel bad but also this is funny.)

Me: ¿Y que haces quando la doctora quiere ver la boca?
Animalia: AHHHHHHHH

Me: ¿Y donde esta la boca?
Animalia points and then says "mou?" (pronounced mau)
Me: Boca.
Animalia: Mou.
Me: Boca.
Animalia: MOU!
Me: If you insist.

I knew she'd speak English sooner or later. I was hoping just a little that it would be later. Because I'm terrible.

Time flies

I can't believe we're here already. 2009. By the end of this year, I'll be the mother of a 2 year old. Weird.

The Animalia is now fifteen months old.

In addition to the many things she says and does, she has started to say the word pato. This word is used for platano, zapato, and also pato. It takes me a minute sometimes to figure out if she wants the banana, the shoe or the duck. We'll get it down sometime. She's also started saying manos and clapping as she says it. Cute. She also knows sientate, acuestate, and parate, knows that her zapetas go in the basura, is figuring out the whole potty concept and all of a sudden will tell you what ratoncitos say in her tiniest voice. That's in the running for my new favorite cute thing. Oh, except for when she does Itsy Bitsy Spider/Arana Pequenita. WITH THE HAND MOTIONS! SO CUTE I WANT TO SQUEEZE HER AND BITE HER. Note to self: must learn to do diacritics on laptop.

And she's big. Officially, she's 32 inches tall and 25 pounds. Her head is a whopping 42 cm around... much much bigger than when she was born. It was 16 1/2 cm then, kid you not, and we just thought her head was going to be tiny, like mine. Well, we were wrong. I think it's the gods telling me I was an expletive for teasing the Nina about her big head. And now I have a baby with a big head. Baby hats don't fit her anymore. She's in toddler hats now, thank you very much, not that she'll keep a hat on to save her life, but still.