In the last two months...

In the forever since my last blog post there were midterm elections (mostly sucked), Animalia has learned many bad habits from preschool, I was frantic with the last days of work before maternity leave, and I gave birth to a new baby girl. Her name is Magdalena Luna and she is now a month old.

She was 7 lbs 4 oz and 20.5 inches long at birth. At almost 4 weeks, she was 8 lbs, 10 oz and 21.5 inches long. She's definitely smaller than her big sister. Maybe she'll catch up or maybe she'll be more me than her dad in the range of genetic possibilities. Not that I'm tiny but I'm certainly not a giant.

This baby is pretty good, sleeps lots. We wake up 2-3 times per night and sometimes only once. If it's just once it's at 4am. She's noisy and funny and occasionally demanding. When she's alert and awake she just looks around and makes sounds. When she needs a diaper change or is hungry, she wants it NOW. The hunger reminds me of her sister. Her impatience with diaper changes is her own. Animalia could marinate in a dirty diaper. Magdi just howls and grunts and groans and insists that it be changed or else she screams like she's being neglected. She has no patience for long walks unless she's being carried either. Animalia says I look like a kangaroo when I'm wearing the baby.

So Magdi or Madi is what Animalia calls her sister and I think Madi will stick but it could change at any time. Animalia loves her baby sister like crazy, likes to help, likes to hold her, wants to squeeze her hard but doesn't, is a little protective, is very proud. The helpfulness is a little scary, sometimes she's like a bull in a china shop so we watch her closely but so far it's been ok.

What else? I'm definitely more insulated or isolated than when Animalia was born. It sounds a little weird maybe but my gazing at the new baby time is more precious since there's less of it. The days just fly by and I realize that I haven't done as much as I meant to or returned all the phone calls, emails or text messages. I just want to sleep, eat and stare at my beautiful tiny girl.

More sooner rather than later. I just had to get some random thoughts in before I forgot them all... the last few weeks have been a pleasant blur with all the nesting going on.

3-year-old

At age 3:

34.5 lbs
40 inches tall

Napuda!!!!

I had to go backwards, searching many blog posts to figure out if I'd ever written about this word and I hadn't. Which is weird because we say it almost every day.

So the deal is that at some point a long while ago I started to yell out a made-up word, nakuda, when Animalia was naked, like in the middle of a diaper change or just after a bath. Nakuda, like naked. And when Animalia began saying it, she missed the k sound and inserted a p. Napuda (pronounced nah-poo-dah). Which still means naked. And can mean any form of naked. Dad wearing his boxers and a tshirt? Napuda! Me showing her my pregnant pansa? Napuda! When she's getting out of the bath she actually requests that her dad yells Napuda! at her.

Sometimes she abbreviates it to Naputs, especially when she's had a long, hot day and she walks in the house, stripping off her clothes and shoes immediately. Then she's naputs (nah-poots). And that's pretty much what she does the second she gets home almost every day. Naputs.

3 years old

I'm so disappointed in myself for not blogging. Not really though. I'm just busy, braindead, tired, pregnant, working, mothering, laundering, etc. No really. I think I was asleep before 9pm more than once this week too.

Animalia just turned 3 years old. We celebrated some the week before with family that was in town for a couple of days at the same time as celebrating her 14-year-old cousin's birthday. Then we celebrated again at Disneyland which has to be it's own post with pictures. Then we celebrated with Nana and Tata on her actual day. Pretty low-key. Pasta, cake, ice cream. Would have been lovely but Animalia was really grumpy and fell asleep in my lap during the pasta. I only realized at that point that she had a fever. Poor thing.

So we went to Disneyland, got back, Animalia got sick for a few days, took her to the doctor who decided that she was fighting off an upper respitory infection for which she prescribed a nasal spray that wasn't covered by our insurance and cost slightly more than $100.

So there's all of that.

And then there's all of the stuff we're looking forward to:

Animalia starts preschool on October 11 at a new Reggio Emilia program mere blocks from home/work. It's half days. Bilingual. She loves the classroom and she cried when we left our visit. Later, she asked Nana if the teacher made her leave so that her mama doesn't hit her. Seriously. Sigh. She's trouble.

We're looking forward to the New Baby. Well, mostly me and a whole lot of it has to do with maternity leave and not being pregnant anymore and spending precious moments gazing into her eyes. Animalia, when asked one day if she was the baby, responded that the baby is in her mom's pansa. But she goes back and forth. Sometimes she points out a tiny piece of clothing at a store and asks if that was hers when she was born. On vacation she wrapped up a towel and said it was mama's New Baby and wouldn't let her dad touch it. I think she'll freak out everytime he touches the New Baby but maybe she'll not. I have no idea.

So everything is going fine. She's still really hilarious.

I'm being punished...

For some terrible thing I did. Or maybe Animalia is considerately preparing me for the sleepless nights coming after The New Baby is born.

Last night, she fell asleep at 8pm, woke up around 1am, thrashed around in my bed for awhile, then at 2am decides she needs to go potty after which I drag her back to bed where she kicks and rolls around and puts various parts of her body on top of me. I think she fell back asleep around 3am but I'm not sure as I was asleep at some point. At least she fell back to sleep then and not at 6 again but I'm exhausted and so is she.

The last two days

Have been torture. Animalia wakes up at 3 or 4am and is instantly and happily awake. I try in vain to put her back to sleep and she doesn't go to sleep. She wants to watch Scooby Doo and have a snack. This morning it was fruta, jugo, and Goldfish Crackers. See... at 3am or even 4am I shouldn't be awake. Waking up this early is bound to give me diarrhea or some other random and uncomfortable ailment. But there we are, in the "libbing room" watching Scooby Doo.

I don't think I've mentioned her love for Scooby Doo here. She loves him and I guess if that's the way we ruin our daughter then that's the way we do it.

Anyhow, there I am, eyes barely open. Then at around 6am she asks me to lay down with her on the couch. We cuddle, she falls asleep, I doze until my alarm goes off and I have to stumble around sleep deprived to get ready for work. I carry her sleepless body to the car where she seems awake enough for a brief conversation. Then she stops talking and I look back-- asleep again! I am terribly jealous of her, being chauffered around in a padded seat, comfortable enough to fall asleep. I take her to Nana's house and she continues to sleep as I arrange her on the couch.

She sleeps til 10:30. Of course that means that she didn't take a nap which could mean that she's in a terrible mood, an angry, vengeful mood. Or it could mean that she's tired enough by the day's end to fall asleep tonight without incident. Or she could wake up at 3am and be ready for her day again. And then I'll continue to be sleep deprived and diarrhea-ish.

Fixing it.

"Stop picking your nose," her Dad tells Animalia.
"I'm not picking it! I'm fixing it!" she replies.

Best excuse for nose picking ever.

Alright.

Alright. It's what she says when she's in agreement. Alright can be said with happiness and enthusiasm or with anger and resentment.

Last night, the Animalia was exhausted. She'd refused to take a nap and had an active day so at 6pm, about an hour before it's ok for her to go to sleep so that she won't wake up at 4am, she started to doze off. I came up with the brilliant idea that I would bribe her with a popsicle. That would surely keep her awake.

So I ask her, her tiny eyes closing, if she'd like a popsicle. Alright, she said quietly. I brought her a popsicle and opened for her. Her eyes were tiny slits but still, she took it. She held it for a second and her head drooped. Are you going to eat your popsicle? I asked her. She opened her eyes just a tiny bit. Alr...

She was done for the night. I removed the popsicle and put her in bed at 6:05pm. She slept til 5am. Alright.

Protein Monster

Animalia loves to eat:
Carne which includes beef, pork, and all veggie meats. Hard boiled eggs, but mostly just the white part. Pollo. Frijoles. Greek yogurt (more protein than regular yogurt). Almond milk, any flavor. Avocado.

She also loves black olives, tomatoes, cereal and milk, corn on the cob, pasta, queso, and sopita.

There are other foods she eats too, but this list represents her true loves-- mostly, as you can see, protein.

When does practicality become hoarding?

We sorted through Animalia's clothes the other day, me and Nana. It was something I'd wanted to do ever since we found out The New Baby is a girl. There were lots of clothes from the last two years, ridiculous amounts of clothes. Hoarding amounts of clothes.

I think was being both practical and lazy. Lazy? Maybe or maybe just busy. See, what happens is that there are lots of clothes. Animalia grows out of those clothes. I put them in a bag and put them in her closet for later sorting. I figured I'd sort them and keep some for any possible New Baby Girl or sell them for later clothes for Animalia or give them away to a friend or family member in need of baby girl clothes or donate them to one place or another. So I did that for over two years. Animalia's tiny closet was beyond stuffed. Then I pulled everything out into laundry baskets and said that I'd start the sorting project any day now. And I didn't, you know with little things like work and mothering and sleep getting in the way. And then one day Nana says that she has some things to go through, did I want to bring all the stuff over and we can do it together? Sure, I wasn't getting it done on my own. So I packed it all up. Three baskets and a trashbag full of tiny clothes. Nana had a couple of bags of her own. And we did it while Animalia napped on the couch.

The results? Poor New Baby. She has her complete wardrobe all set. No new clothes for her. She has her first two years wardrobe all complete.

Eighty-four Five

Eighty-Four Five is the name she's given to her notebook. It's just a regular old steno pad, maybe it looks official? Eighty-Four One Five is the name she's given to the pencil she uses to write in the Eighty-Four Five. Those are her favorite numbers.... those long, hyphenated sounding, official looking things. Those and "two."

Jan Brewer

You know the part of Sleeping Beauty where Maleficent, the evil witch, comes into the castle during baby Rose's (Sleeping Beauty as a tiny baby) baptism and curses her? Animalia asked me if Maleficent was Jan Brewer and if Jan Brewer was there to hurt the baby. So I said yes. What else was I supposed to say? No, baby, Arizona Governor Jan Brewer, signer of the infamous SB1070 and HB2281, is a nice lady and wouldn't hurt anyone? I can't lie to her. At least not about Jan Brewer.

Animalia is relieved

because The New Baby is definitely a girl. Definitely. No chance a mistake was made.

I am.

Are you really happy? someone asked.



I am.



Really? The reply.



I like my life.



But you're stressed, she stated.



Mmmhmm. A 2-year-old. A husband. A full time job with another full time job on the side. A little extra money making here and there. Another baby on the way. The constant threat of lupus flare up. There's stress. But I'm happy. I like my life.

Love, true love

"Mommy, thank you for loving me."

I don't love you

"I don't love you," she tells me. She's irritated because it's time to get out of the shower and get ready for bed.
"But I love you," I reply.
"I don't love you. I love my daddy."
He makes faces from the other side of the bathroom door. Faces like he won something. Faces like he's gloating. I myself am trying not to laugh. I leave the bathroom telling him that he's on his own for the bedtime ritual. I start laughing and it takes awhile to catch my breath.

She's reasonable.

The reasoning of a smart, defiant toddler goes like this:

"It's time to take a nap," says Nana.
"I can sleep with my eyes open," says Animalia.

"Let's go to the jumping castles, " I tell her in an attempt to take her to Pump It Up (where we've never been but it looks like she would love it).
"I want to stay home," she responds.
"Come on! It'll be fun!" I put a huge smile on my face.
"If I want to jump I can jump in your bed," she says, conversation over.

"Naptime!" I say.
"I will not sleep, I will eat my foot!" she yells.

These, and discussions like these, happen daily.

The New Baby

The New Baby is what we're calling it. Not bean or bun or muffin or whatever food references people make about the things growing inside them. The New Baby. Like that, capitalized.

The first time we mentioned The New Baby to Animalia, we showed her the sonogram. She said, "That new baby is not coming in my house." She really cracks me up.

The last week or so, the response had been more positive. She says that we'll read to the new baby and walk her on the ceiling (because Dad walks Animalia on the ceiling) and protect the new baby. I'm sure that ceiling walking and protecting conflict a little but I don't contradict her. According to Animalia, The New Baby is a girl, not a boy, so that she can be a princess and be lovely and smart. Now that she's said that, I'm sure that The New Baby will most certainly be a boy or a tomboy and hate dresses with all the passion in the world. That's just how life is.

The Sleepiness

I find myself nesting again, pregnant again, wanting to do nothing but gaze at Animalia while she sleeps. The problem is that she doesn't sleep like she used to. Naps still happen but mostly with a bit of anger and crying. Bedtime for the last few days consists of me putting her to bed, her sneaking off to be with her dad, me not hearing her because I'm asleep, and, the next morning, hearing Jimmy tell me that she played until 11pm and that's why she's so cranky. So basically, I'm tired. Animalia is energetic. And Jimmy is nice to both of us.

I just reread this and I realize that that's no way to make a big announcement. Hi everyone, I'm tired and pregnant. Exciting.

Ok... how about

We're having another baby in November. Animalia won't be an only child. We're thrilled. But really, we are.

Next post, Animalia's reaction.

Ambition

"When I grow up I can be a robot. I can't have eyes. Only lights. And I can be a girl and not a boy."

Two Friends!

Animalia was way too excited when I brought Ana (Raggedy Ann) and Petunia (teddy bear) to sit with her at her tea party last night. It was almost sad when she giggled, "I have TWO friends!" She played tea party with them happily but I couldn't help but think that she needs to see more kids. I need to put more effort into that.

Shump!

Shump. The sound Animalia makes when she is fake eating something. But not something regular. Something delicious and sweet like tea with honey or ice cream. Shump, she says when she is pretending to eat something or when she asks if she can shump something "for her mouth."

Crunch. This means something is healthy. She crunches apples and broccoli because "they're healthy because they crunch."

Neee-owwwww. This is what airplanes say.

ROOOOAAAAR. This is one of her favorite things, roaring. She roars at other children. Sometimes they get scared and run. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes she's a dinosaur when she roars, sometimes a monster. She loves being scared and tells us so. Sometimes she whispers, "Let's scare daddy and see what happens. Ready, set, go!" and then she roars and he acts scared.

She beeps and bloops and ticks and tocks and sings to herself too. Not sure what exactly she's doing with all that but I love to listen in when she's busy.

The time she was trying to hide but got stuck between the couch and the wall

She doesn't look upset but she was. All we did was laugh and take pictures.

Two dollars

"Mama?"
"Yes, baby?"
"Did you buy me at the Target store? Did I cost two dollars?"
"Yes, baby. I bought you at the Target store. You cost two dollars."

Then she gave me a hug and told me that she loves me very much.

The Great Lollipop Shakedown of 2010

Animalia, on her regular trips with Nana and Tata, visits an assortment of thrift and other stores and sometimes banks on a fairly regular basis. Many times, on these visits, she is given treats like lollipops by people working in these places. That is the backstory.

The real story is this:
Animalia walked into the credit union and asked for a lollipop. They didn't have any that day. She fake cried. A little while later she walked into a thrift store. She again asked for a lollipop. When she was told that they also had run out, she shook with rage. At both places, the person working at the counter apologized profusely. Terrible.

Easter 2010

April 4th, Tia Lupita's house, playing with cousins, egg hunting, eating Eegee's, posing with Nana.

Sandbox Incident

A few days ago, Animalia was at the Tucson Children's Museum sandbox with Nana and Tata. Apparently, she tried to kick some older kids out of the sandbox and then pitched a fit because one of them was using "her" tiny shovel. The kids were older, around 5 or 6 and not to be pushed around and after a few minutes of trying to get Animalia to share, Nana and Tata took her home and put her in time out. I guess she knew as soon as they took her away that she was in trouble, asking if she was in trouble and going to time out.

So today she explains the whole thing to Nana, telling her that her fairy godmother made her into a baby at the sandbox. I ask her if that's true and she just laughs.

It's time for preschool.

A bow!

This is a bow that I made with my own two hands. It has a barrette backing and is intended for Animalia's wild tresses. It is also intended for her to wear when she wears her lovely Easter dress on Sunday. I am very impressed with this bow as I didn't know I was able to create something like this. I would normally just buy something like this... actually, I wouldn't normally buy something like this as bows like this cost $10. $10! For a bow! I also didn't know I was a bow making kind of mom. But I guess I am a recycling kind of mom (materials left over from other random crafty things) and I am a crafty kind of mom, even if I can never craft, what with having a kid and a job and doing random acts of community type things. So here it is. A bow.

Preschool Search '10, part 3

We've hit a standstill on the search.

One school was awful. Super academic. Developmentally inappropriate. Viewed play with the whole "idle hands are the devil's workshop" adage. Sure, they were multiplying at age 3 but they weren't playing. They were being drilled. No decorations on the classroom walls because they're viewed as distractions from learning. I know quite a bit about early childhood brain development and this school was ignoring crucial things. You know, like real experiences in favor of rote memorization. Not for us.

Second school was good. Clean. Cute. Lots of outside time. Foreign languages. And then there were some alarming things on someone elses visit. Like dirty bathrooms. And elitist attitudes. Things I don't want Animalia learning, even if it's just filtered down through layers of administration and teachers.

Third school took my name and number because the program isn't quite put together yet. They're starting a Reggio Emilia based program, bilingual. Sounds awesome but I'm wondering when we'll know the details.

Fourth school never called me back.

So here we are.

Teeny tiny train vacation

Leave Tucson at approximately 10:30 pm by Amtrak. Animalia is overly interested in the train, asking if it's her train and if she's on the train. Also, she needed to go potty. Many times. Midnight lecture was necessary. I think I told her that she needed to go to sleep around midnight in my most exhausted threatening voice. Then she asked me if she could talk. I said no.

Arrive in Los Angeles at approximately 7:30 am. No sleep, or very little, since Animalia was hogging. Drop off luggage, eat breakfast at Olvera St, deal with unanticipated issues, take bus to museums where Animalia sees dinosaurs, animals, airplanes, roses, and other happy things. She keeps asking if we're in California.

Check into hotel, conveniently located near many delicious foods in Little Tokyo. Animalia loves the hotel. Eat an early dinner. Buy some pastries. Head back to the room. Animalia falls asleep early, before dessert.

Next morning, wake up, get dressed, get coffee and pastries, head to Santa Monica. The beach! The rides! This is Animalia's happiest part of the whole trip. Hotel, naps, wandering around, late dinner.

Next morning, wake up, eat breakfast, go to large Japanese supermarket, check out of hotel, head to train station. Train departs at 2:30pm. It's slightly delayed, then we're delayed en route. Animalia has good times. Spends time in the observation car which she correctly names unless she's calling it the raisin car. Home at 12:30pm (about an hour late). Asleep by 1am.

Spend the entire next day tired, though Animalia was missing the hotel, train, and Japanese food. Have I mentioned that she loves Japanese food? Miso soup, sushi, cucumbers only slightly pickled in vinegar, soba noodles. All of it.

Miss Dramatic

Getting Animalia To Sleep. Capitalized, as if it were the title of a nightly drama, played out by yours truly, Daht, and starring Animalia. I now think it's payback for having such a blissful infant and whenever friends would tell me that theirs wasn't sleeping, I'd smugly say "Animalia only wakes up once or twice per night." Well... now her brain is working like crazy maybe, or maybe she just likes driving me insane from sleep deprivation because she's been waking up several times per night giggling, calling to me, or talking about princesses. So I'm tired. But I hear her and I give her a stern "Es tiempo para mimis" and what does she say? "I understand Mom... I understand" in her most dramatic, saddest, most manipulative voice. Drama.



In the meantime, Nana and Tata have started to have the same problems with naptime. When Nana firmly tells her that she has to take a nap, Animalia wails, "Nana... why are you so mad at me?"



Drama.

Mandingo

"¿Como te llamas?" Nana asks.
"Aya Castillo Mandingo," Animalia replies, laughing hysterically.

And it's all Nana's fault.

Preschool Search '10, part 2

So I thought I loved the second school and then decided, after someone else visited the next day and reported that the bathrooms were filthy and some other major stuff, that I don't love it anymore. I'm not a clean freak by any means but filthy bathrooms are a deal breaker. Also, a certain elitest private school attitude that won't serve us well as we're hoping to put Animalia in public school for 1st grade. At least that's the current plan. Have I mentioned that this is really hard?

Left message at two other schools. One will get back to me when they have their Reggio Emilia-based program completely in place, the other, a well-known and -respected place, hasn't bothered to return my call.

The Great Preschool Search of '10

Realizing that my daughter was going to turn three this fall has sent me into a fevered frenzy of preschool searching. Actually, my fevered frenzy is more like "umm... I heard this one is ok, maybe I should call them." And then I tell myself that for a few days until I actually do it. So anyhow, this is hard and also time consuming, and, once a school is chosen, will be expensive. I guess I didn't realize that preschool is almost $500/month full time and although I'd like her to just go 2-3 days/week for the first year, I think full time might be good for her second year. Then, it's kind of weird, but it seems that either the schools are super structured, sitting at desks, doing worksheets and not being fun at all, or free and easy, hippy dippy, barefoot. It might be nice to find something somewhere in the middle. Then there's all these methods and philosophies and rules and registration fees and waitlist fees and... it's enough to make me just want to start school in kinder and skip all of this. But I know she'll love it and I know she needs just a little extra structure and variation in her life at this point. So I'll get through it.

So far I've had one visit and one upcoming appointment. I think I'm going to call two more places and make appointments with them. Results to be announced but I already know it isn't going to be the first school. That one was pretty terrible.

Princesa

"This is my princesa. It's a princess. But daddy doesn't say that word, princesa. Daddy doesn't say it en español."

--Animalia, playing with her very treasured Cinderella doll

The Big City

"Can we go to the big city?" Animalia asks. Or sometimes she tells us about "when I was in the big city." The Big City. I think she means downtown Tucson with all the cars in motion and all the people walking from one place (the office) to another (lunch, probably, or back to work from lunch). It's funny for us because our street is so quiet, just south of "bustling" downtown, that she probably doesn't realize that we're pretty much downtown all the time.

When I was a baby...

Animalia is lately obsessed with making the distinction between herself and babies. Example: she found a pair of tiny shoes in a bag of stuff I was giving away and showed them to me, saying "Are these my shoes from when I was a baby?" She does that with anything small too. Like doll dresses, play food, and things she doesn't want to wear. Like pants. "They're too small!" she cries, "from when I was a baby!" Even when they're not... just because she hates pants.

But sometimes, like this morning, she still wants to be a baby, asking me to carry her "like a baby because I'm born."

At 2 years and 4 months...

At two years and four months, Animalia loves:

-dolls of any shape or size.
-her dog Cooper. She calls him "Cupa Coop," "Mr. Cooper," and "Zippy." The rest of us are only allowed to call him Cooper.
-making. Also known as cooking.
-yarning. Also known as cutting with sticks. That's knitting for the rest of us.
-books, especially Ghosts in the House! by Kazuno Kohara, Art (Petit Connoisseur) by Karen Salmansohn, Princess Baby, Night-Night by Karen Katz, and In Grandma's Arms by Jayne C Shelton and Karen Katz. Also, anything Maisy, anything with princesses, anything about dragons or dinosaurs.
-making pipis and popos in the potty, not like dogs or cats. According to Animalia, they do it outside because they stink.
-her ABCs and knows them well enough to purposely replace letters in the sequence. Hilarity ensues when she sings A-B-C-D-I-O-P or a similar sequence.
-to count.
-to tuck herself into bed when it's not bedtime. Of course, she doesn't love to tuck herself in when it is bedtime.
-being funny, making jokes, being tickled and everything else related to laughter.
-drawing. "Not on the books, only on the paper."
-dancing. She especially loves dancing in the kitchen to the oldies.
-humming random tunes.
-sopita.
-being scared. There are probably few bigger thrills for her than having someone jump out and scare her. Really.
-her family. Her happiest times are spent "together, with the whole family." She especially loves it when her mama, daddy, nana and tata are all in the same place at the same time.

Yarning

"Mom, I'm relaxing and yarning a scarf for my fadder"


-- Animalia, sitting on the stairs at Nana's house pretending to knit.

time out

So here's what happened:

I was moving laundry from the washer to the dryer. Animalia was actually helping me until the bag of dog food caught her eye. Then she started playing with the dog food. I told her to stop. I know, playing with dog food isn't the end of the world but she's acquired the bad habit of also torturing Cooper with food items, so I feel the need to retrain her to leave Cooper's stuff alone. Anyhow, she's sticking her hands in it. I tell her no. She does it again. Etc. When my hands aren't full of laundry, I physically move her away from it and she stops momentarily. So.. major plot point.. this is a rainy day. Some of the laundry needs to hang dry, so I scoop it up and start to hang it in the bathroom. She follows me and closes the door. I'm in the bathroom, hands full of wet clothing, and she's in the laundry room. Alone. I hang up the laundry, calmly, but irritated. I walk out of the bathroom when I'm done, only to find her standing in a puddle of dog food. Laughing. She's testing me. And she thinks it's funny. I'm irritated. I tell her that I told her no and she didn't listen so she's gotta go to time out. And I take her to a chair in the children's paradise that is our living room. And I sit her in it. And she cries. And cries. And wails her objections. And cries some more.

Two minutes later...

I tell her she can leave time out. She cries some more and stays in time out. Another minute or so later, she walks over to me, gasping. "Mommy, I'm sorry," she says. I say something parental, like "You got time out because you can't play with Cooper's food." She says something like, "Mommy, I'm really really sorry." She's dramatic, my child is. Then she asks for a hug and I give her one. Then she asks for a kiss and I give her one. The kiss part is weird because she grabs my face, one of her tiny hands on each of my cheeks, and squeezes me a little, and kisses me really hard. I can't help but think that this is the kiss of death, that my tiny child is some sort of mob godfather and I'll be smothered in my sleep tonight by a paid hitman. But I digress. So she gives me a kiss. Then she says, "Little girls don't play with Cooper's food." And I tell her that she's right.

Hair OR Things I don't know how to do

I was once told I was "blessed" with hair "como India." Until my teen hair experimentation years (dyeing and bleaching) my hair was blacker than black, thick, and so straight that it resisted most styling and rarely tangled. My hair could be, unlike the hair of many of my friends, combed when wet, then air dried, and look lovely. I didn't even really learn how to use a blow-dryer til I was well into my adult years. Curling irons and round brushes are still something of a mystery to me.

Fast forward to now. My hair, due to hormones and the previously mentioned chemical treatments is no longer as straight, nor as dark. There's a little wave in it that occasionally panicks me, but I mostly still wash, comb wet with a little product, then air dry.

And then there's Animalia. Her hair. Her fine, reddish brown, curly hair. I didn't need to bother with it for awhile. She was pretty bald for awhile, with a few tiny curls. Recently, though, her hair has come in full force, lots of it, lots of curls. I figured it out though. Her hair regimen. Earth's Best shampoo is great, I discovered with much trial and error. Then comb out tangles when wet. Then air dry, with some anti-frizz hair serum. Then pin bangs back with barette. If this is followed exactly, her barette can come out and her hair stays mostly out of her face, the back bouncing into little ringlets. If it isn't-- well, we have a frizzy, crazy, staticky mess. A bird's nest that looks crazy and disheveled and dirty, even when it's sparkling clean.

This is my penance for my many years of negligent hair care.

Lyrics

She's making me change lyrics to our made up songs. Where I normally say "baby" she wants me to say "little girl." Needless to say, this is difficult as it kind of screws up the rhythm of many songs to insert that extra syllable.

Directing the parent

While I was at an evening meeting...

"Daddy, I need to go poop in the potty. Right now. You need to take me." orders Animalia. So he does. Once she's finished what she needed to finish, she tells him, "Daddy. Now I need to eat dinner. Right now."

He says he felt like he was being reprimanded for coming up short as a parent. I reminded him that she's only two.

Fashion!

This fabulous little number was assembled by Animalia herself and consists of a Hello Kitty dress from Target, a ballerina dress, origins unknown, and some Hello Kitty rain boots, also from Target. Jewelery provided by Nana, who, helping Animalia dress, was asked, "Nana, am I fashion?"

The accident

This happened about a month ago.

One day Amalia, distracted by fun things like toys and playing, had an accident. I knew, as I approached her, that she'd done something. She was sitting in the middle of the living room floor, kind of frozen in position... and then I noticed her wet bottoms. I remember stripping her down and leading her to the shower. She kept covering her face with her arm and whispering "You don't go pipi in your chones, only in the potty." I felt so bad for her. I couldn't punish her or even say stern words. She was punishing herself. Then her Daht found the major puddle hidden under one of her doll's blankets. She knew. And she was ashamed. I was so sad that she was so sad.

I'll have to tell her that story one day, tell her that we didn't need to punish or chastise her, that she did it to herself.

So it's been a little while...

...since my last real post. In that time, Animalia has celebrated Christmas (she loves Christmas, she says), a new year (Happy New Beer! she says) and her Dad's birthday (Happy Birthday to cupcakes! she says). The holidays were happy and exhausting and I'm still sad that it's all over, all the extra time off, Nina Amarisa going back to DC, having us all together as a family more of the time. But here we are, 2010.

It's going to be a good year. I can feel it.

Holiday photos

Christmas morning. That blanket draped behind her is hiding a play kitchen!

Sometime after Christmas, holding Lito like a baby.