Bandaids

Imaginary bandaids. Animalia's new favorite thing. First, using both hands, she carefully plucks an imaginary bandaid from somewhere, the couch, her patient's hand, Mama's pansa. Then she approaches her patient and identifies the coco. This can be anything from a tiny scab to a mole. Any imperfection will do. She carefully smoothes the bandaid on the "hurt" place, again, using both hands. Then she pats it softly and says "Are you ok? It's ok" and she moves on to the next object of her tiny doctoring.

Schedule, schedule, schedule

So it took a few days but we're somewhat settled into our routine again. Animalia is much calmer and nicer and easier than she was on vacation. Routine is important to her, makes her a nicer kid to deal with.

The "somewhat" part of "somewhat settled" is really that she's been exceptionally clingy with me. She cried yesterday when I left Nana's post-lunch break. This morning, when I told her she'd be eating breakfast with Daddy, she said "No. With Mommy" and when I told her I had to go to work, she asked, "With Aya?" I think it's a little rough for her to go from spending all waking (and sleeping) hours with Mama for an entire week to having to spend big chunks of time without me. It's hard for me too. Going back to the regular schedule gives me a bit of guilt. Vacation just reminds me how many more important things there are than work, with Animalia, of course, being at the top of the list.

So. It's this week and the coming week of schedule, schedule, schedule. Then we'll throw it out of whack again when we head to the Grand Canyon with Daht and Britta over Labor Day weekend. Then it's back to schedule, schedule, schedule. Unless I win the lottery.

A visit to the Nina

Considering it would take me a month to have time to create a play-by-play posting of our vacation to the Nina and fabulous Washington, DC, I'll post a highlights/lowlights list instead.



Highlights:

-All of the flights! Animalia was fantastic, so good that she elicited compliments on ALL of the flights, both to and from. One man actually praised not only Animalia, but my very own parenting skills. Someone else, seated in front of us, also told me that my baby is very very smart as they could hear her counting to 20 during the flight.

-Animalia recognized Nina immediately and not only did she know her as Nina but she also knew her name and got it only slightly wrong, calling her Amarisa. It was very adorable.

-When we took her to Sesame Place, the very first time she saw the characters, she was so excited she shook!

-She was very lovey to Gloria and remembered her name.

-She saw the creepily taxidermied animals at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History and was ecstatic, especially when she noticed the panda bear, repeating "Panda Bear, Panda Bear, What do you see?" over and over again. She also loved seeing the "dinosaurus" and the big elephant.

-She was thrilled at the Natural History Museum's special butterfly exhibit. It's a small structure inside the museum built specially for live butterflies with many lovely flowers planted in planters. We walked inside and there were butterflies everywhere. Animalia ooohed and aaahhed, especially when one landed on her. Very exciting.

-Happy as a clam on many rides including the carousel on the National Mall and the teacup-type ride and flying fish ride at Sesame Place.

-Happy as a clam in any water attraction at Sesame Place.

-She burst into song, singing "Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you, tomorrow! You're only a day away!" as I was trying to put her to sleep. I guess this one is a highlight AND a low point because she was being very difficult at this point but it was so hilarious that we stifled laughter to maintain the serious environment that sleeping requires.

-Happy as a clam at H&M, totally thrilled about getting new clothes, especially the Hello Kitty tunic like thing.

-Loving the fried foods. It must've been crazy for her to eat french fries more than once during the week (I'm a terrible mother on vacation, a better one when we're home). She also LOVES dip. ANY dip. Ketchup, honey mustard, ranch. Dip! Yay!

-Her new Count Von Count that "Mama bought you" at Sesame Place. She calls him her "baby Count" and puts him to sleep tenderly.

-Italian ice on the National Mall.

-Buckling herself into her stroller all by herself.

-Most of the driving from DC to PA was fairly decent. She spent much of the time talking to herself if she wasn't asleep.

-She pooped in the potty for the very first time!!!

Lowlights:
-The National Zoo visit. Although the Animalia enjoyed seeing the first few animals very much, there were very few animals out by the time we got there. Then she was flopping around on the ground and at one point hoarded food in her mouth for about 20 minutes until she spit it all out near the horseys. This is her new and totally disgusting trick that I hope passes quickly.

-She spent a little time being defiant, a few times reduced to screeching. I think mostly she was tired and disoriented from not being at home and being totally out of her routine. Every car trip resulted in her asking to go see Daddy, or to go to Nana and Tata's house.

-Our visit to the Library of Congress to see Nina. When Nina took her stroller for brief storage, Animalia started screaming, "Aya's stroller!!!" and crying real tears. In a very quiet place. Where researching people could hear us. Because Nina stole her stroller.

-After she pooped in the potty, she finished it off by pooping in the diaper. Seriously. Yuck. Also, aside from the pooping, she wasn't too into using the potty, at least not as much as she was at home. I think the grown up potty was sort of weird for her, but also we were out so much and she was so distracted that she'd rarely mention it. On a more positive note, she seems to have readjusted quickly. Thank the lord.

-The mosquitos. Little bastards. Actually, they were rather large, the size of flies. And fat and slow off of my own blood and the blood of my teeny tiny toddler. We're still dealing with the itching and the total unprettiness. Here's hoping we don't get West Nile.

So there it is. A trip to see the Nina. All by ourselves. I'm exhausted but happy to see, after making a list, that there are more highlights than lowlights.

The car!

Sometimes, still, after 22 months, in complete wonder and awe of the fact that I have a child, or in complete wonder and awe of how big she is now, or how quickly she's grown, or how incredibly wonderful she is in many ways, I ask the Animalia, "Where did this baby come from?" A few days ago, she decided to reply, "From home." I laughed but promptly forgot about it. A day or so later, under similar circumstances, the Nana asked the same question just after Animalia had arrived. Animalia answered this time to, only this time she came from "the car." The best thing is that when we ask this, she's started to look at us like she thinks we should already know.

Eck. An open letter.

Dear You-know-who-you-are,

Did I ever tell you that when Amalia burps she thinks it's hilarious? And then she "makes" herself burp, which consists of her saying "ECK!" and then laughing hysterically at her own incredible wit? This is really nothing new, it started a few months ago, but every time she does it, all I can think of is when me and you used to make ourselves belch and how awesome we thought we were for being able to belch like drunken sailors. Didn't we also try to belch the alphabet?

Were we disgusting, or just ahead of our time?

Lots of love,
Animalia's Mami (she's recently started to call me that, Mami, or sometimes she calls me Parent.)

Let the Halloween planning begin.

Yesterday afternoon, Daht calls me at work. The very disturbing conversation follows.

Daht: So. I was thinking about Halloween.
Me: What about Halloween?
Daht: Well, we could be the Warriors again. Or we could all be serial killers.
Me: I could be Lizzie Borden although I guess she wasn't a serial killer. She's recognizable though.
Daht: I could be the Nightstalker. And your brother could be someone else.
Me: He could be Charles Manson.
Daht: And we could dress Animalia up in a clown costume and paint glasses on her face. She could be John Wayne Gacy!
Me, laughing: We'll have to talk about this when we get home.

So. What say you? Is that the absolutely most scarring thing that would ruin her forever? Or are we hilarious?

Disclaimer/plea: We are mostly excellent parents. Please don't take our baby away. We DO love her very much and would never do anything to truly harm her.

Big baby!

We arrive at Nana's in the morning, as per usual. Animalia, still a little sleepy, walks in and says Hi to Nanitas (her words, not mine) and Tatati (again, her word). Nana asks me if we saw the big baby in Animalia's high chair. We have yet to notice it. I turn and see a large baby doll. I tell Animalia to look and see the baby in her high chair. She looks and immediately assumes "shy baby position," taking my hand and puts her hand to her mouth. I think she thinks that it's a real baby, and though she has a good sight line to the doll, we're really in another room, and I understand her hesitation. This doll, from this distance, looks real and chubby and big.

We walk toward the doll. As we get closer, Animalia says, "It's a big baby!" And it IS a big baby. It has moveable arms and legs and eyes that open and close. It looks old, though, good condition but definitely not made recently. Nana bought it at a rummage sale, took off it's clothes and washed them, cleaned off the molded soft plastic body with warm water and bleach. The baby is marked "American Char."

She's a heavy baby and has a little hole in her mouth made for feeding with a tiny bottle. I immediately ask Nana if the doll can potty but she hasn't opened up the diaper to check. I think that this was one of those dolls made for institutional use, either daycare or to teach teenagers how hard it is to have a baby by dragging one along for a few days. We google. It is neither. It's an American Character Doll Co. doll called Toodles made way back in 1953. Nana finds one on ebay, similar condition to Animalia's big baby, starting bid $125. Holy. Crap.

It seems pretty indestructable. We're not taking it away from Animalia. She's attached. She spent most of the morning taking care of her and calling the Big Baby her "baby sister." BABY SISTER? Where did she learn that one?

Carreta World.

The scene: Target. Sunday afternoon. Many people purchasing, browsing, and milling about. In attendance: Mama, Daht, Animalia.

We're leaving the store, heading to the car. We cruise pass the stable full of shopping carts. Animalia notices.

Animalia: Welcome to carreta world everybody!
Mama: What? What did you say?
Daht: What did she say?
Animalia: The carretas are red. Red means rojo.

Discussion ensues regarding Animalia's brilliance and apparent sense of humor.

Scene close.