Toddler Speak

A list of funny things Lana said in the past week:

1. To her father, after he said good night to her:
   
   “Good night, girlfriend!”



2. To her Pop, after he passed her another french fry at dinner:
   
   “Good boy!”



3. To the My Little People Busy Town lift the flap book she was reading on the couch:
   
   “People, and bicycles, and boats, and doggy, and good buddies, and butterflies…”
   
   [Good buddies are what she has decided to call squirrels, it turns out.]



4. To the bin of diapers, which now includes Princess-themed Easy Ups and Dora Pull Ups:
   
   “Fun ladies, fun ladies, and dis… dis here panties.”



5. To me, after I asked how the newly-bathed Rico smelled:
   
   “Yummy!”



6. To the tissue I threw away after wiping her nose:
   
   "Bye, bye, booger!"

21 Month Updade

Dear Lana,

For 21 months now I have sat down in front of my computer on or around the 29th of the month to recap your most recent exploits. And each month when I think back on the things you have done or said, I feel so totally enamored with you that I can’t help but recall a passing comment from a neighbor shortly after your birth. As she watched me stroll my colicky baby (that was you) around and around our cul-de-sac, she looked at her own four year old son playing in the yard and told me she enjoyed him the most between the ages of six and 14 months. Her comment both disturbed and intrigued me. Most of all, it made me wonder if I would ever look back and identify a time span that I enjoyed you most. As it turns out, the answer is yes. Every month that we spend together is my favorite time with you. Every month I grow to love you more and every month you grow cuter, sweeter, and funnier. My only concern is that you cannot possibly keep this up. You will have to either stop increasing in cuteness at some point or run the risk of being squeezed to death by your adoring Mommy.

What makes you so ridiculously cute, you ask? Well let’s start with your talking, because there has been plenty of that in the past month. You’ve maintained a running dialogue of the events around you and become particularly adept at identifying all the people in your world. You speak at great length about your Granny and Pop, your Omo, Opop and Uncle Kyle, as well as your friends Gracie, Michael, Layla, Andra, and Preston. You pretend to talk to them on the phone and instruct your father and me to sing marathon rounds of "Happy Birthday” to each one in turn. My favorite part of your interest in names, however, is your tendency to call your father “John Mayes” and me “Jiffer” or “JMo” (your father’s nickname for me). You do it most often when you want to get my attention, like last Saturday when we were shopping at a Carter’s store and you were determined to show me something. “Mommy come!” you requested. “Just a minute, Lana,” I replied. “Mommy, COME!” you repeated, and then abrupty began howling, “JMo, JMo, JAAAYYY MOWWWW!” That turned a few heads, even in a store filled with moms who are used to hearing odd things from the mouths of toddlers.

You’ve also learned how to better communicate what you want, like “wanna eat”, “want popsicle”, “want nap”, and “want lick [insert name of any animal here]”. Your most frequent request as of late, however, is “Mommy hold you.” This is my cue to pick you up and comfort you whenever you are scared, hurt, or just unsure. You remain shy and want to be held when introduced to new people or situations, but you absolutely love to observe the people we encounter. This is most evident when we’re out to dinner and our fellow diners inevitably begin to wave and smile at you. You often smile shyly and occasionally even wave back, but if anyone dares approach you latch on to me like you’re anticipating a kidnapping attempt. Still, you “WANNA SEE PEOPLE!” and especially “WANNA SEE BABIES!” whenever we’re out and about.

Speaking of babies, let’s talk about your baby dolls. You've been playing with a couple of my old baby dolls since around your first birthday and you’ve acquired a few new ones since then. During one shopping outing at Babies R Us, you grabbed hold of a soft little doll with brown piggy tails and barely let go long enough for the cashier to ring her up. As we returned home you pointed to the house across the street and began chanting our neighbor’s name, “Sally, Sally, Sally” while hugging your baby tight. The doll’s been known as Sally ever since and her christening marked the beginning of assigning names to all the dolls in your collection. Some are purely functional, like “Heavy Baby” or “Bald Baby”. Others are named in honor of new friends, like “Preston”, the doll acquired shortly after your introduction to a cute little blonde boy down the street. The dolls have offered you a great deal of comfort in the past month, whether it’s sleeping with you in your crib or wearing band-aids to make you feel better about your own boo boos. You, in turn, have been taking much better care of them – only rarely pitching them across the room in a fit of rage. And that, my dear, is just good parenting.


Thanks for making month #21 my very favorite month with you. I’m sure it will hold that special honor for at least three more weeks.

Love,
Mommy

Oh, Dear...

We took Lana to the Georgia Aquarium for the first time today. She enjoyed seeing all the fish, the REALLY BIG fish, and particularly liked standing against the glass of the sea lion tank while the animals rushed toward her. She saw whales, sharks, alligators, otters, penguins, turtles, and every type of fish imaginable. And yet, when I asked her on the way home about her favorite part of the aquarium trip, she thought for a moment and then broke out in a grin and said, "BOYS!"



View more aquarium photos

Street (driveway) Performer

Look out, American Idol Season 21.

20 Month Update

Dear Lana,

Yesterday you turned 20 months old. Do you remember a couple of months ago when I wrote that you almost never said "Mommy" in my presence? Oh my, how quickly things change around here. For most of the past month, you maintained a running dialogue of things your dear Mama should do: "Mommy, come. Mommy, sit. Mommy, taste. Mommy, sing," and so on. My favorite of all is "Mommy, reeeeach!" which you say when I come into the vicinity of something you want but can't have at the moment, like the bottle of Sprite ("SPITE!") on the top shelf of the refrigerator. I love the way you say it with such urgency and hopefulness, as if the only reason you aren't drinking Sprite with breakfast is because your poor Mommy can't reach the bottle.

At this point I've completely lost track of the number of words and sentences you can say. You love to mimic new words and will very reliably chant the last word in a sentence overheard in a conversation or on television. That's proved problematic on a couple of occasions, when Mommy or Daddy's last word was something that's generally frowned upon in the Bible Belt. Luckily, your memory for those words is remarkably short – either that or you are saving them up for the first day of school at the Christian academy you will begin attending part-time this summer.

In other language news, you decided a couple of weeks ago that it was finally time to call Rico by his name and not the generic title, "Doggie." I began to worry when you learned the names of all the other dogs in the family, but still you refused to recognize Rico by his name. I think the turning point came on the playground when the neighborhood children converged on Rico, shouting his name and extending dirty little hands to pet him. Miraculously, no digits were lost (way to go, Rico!) and you joined in shouting his name, all the while beaming with pride to be the owner of such a popular canine.

Truly, I have no doubts that you consider yourself to be in charge of poor Rico, given the pleasure you take in ordering him around pointing out his mistakes. You absolutely love to come in and point out the locations of "messes" made by Rico while we are out – most often they involve the destruction/consumption of some snack left on a table or in a diaper bag. Those messes are your favorite topic of conversation when you meet someone new: "Doggie, mess. Trouble." One day we were standing out in the back yard and Rico began rolling in the grass. This is a habit we try to discourage, but on this particular occasion I was distracted and didn't notice until you dropped the ball you were playing with, ran over to Rico and began yelling, "NO! Dirty!" You then proceeded to chase him around the yard, brushing grass off his back until you were satisfied with his cleanliness. I can tell that Rico is annoyed to have a tiny human bossing him around, but he generally handles it with grace and is handsomely rewarded when grilled cheese sandwiches rain down on him from your highchair.

The lovely weather allowed us to spend even more time outside last month, which pleased you to no end. You could hardly stand to spend an entire hour inside because that was one whole hour that you were not strolling, playing ball, sliding, or throwing rocks in the lake. This is exactly what I pictured when I was pregnant with you – your father and me catching you as you slide, teaching you how to kick a ball, chasing you as you enjoy the simple pleasure of running as fast as your little legs will allow. As an adult, it's easy to forget how fun those things can be. Thank you so much for letting us relive all those experiences through you.

Love,
Mommy


(Photo at top courtesy of Amy Jackson Photography. And, no, we did not ask her to pose like a ballerina. That was one lovely, lucky moment out of five minutes of whining, crying, and poopy pants. Amy's a pro for capturing it.)

Gym Rat

When I began taking Lana to a local Baby Power and Forever Kids for a weekly parent/child enrichment class, I hoped she would get practice interacting with children her own age and learn to feel comfortable in a group setting. Mission accomplished. She's not only gained confidence around new people and children, but she's also learned a variety of new songs, the importance of taking turns, and how everyone should pitch in to help clean up. What could be wrong with that?

What could be wrong is that the child has become absolutely obsessed with "the Gym", as she likes to call it. We go to class on Friday morning and to Open Gym at least once a week, but it is never enough. Most days, Lana wakes up in the morning and immediately asks, "Gym?" I often tell her that the gym is closed (which is usually true), at which point she sadly repeats "Gym closed" and shakes her head slowly like she's contemplating the injustice of global hunger.

Lately I've noticed that Lana has taken a different approach to her quest to spend every waking moment at the gym. She's begun placing pretend phone calls to her grandparents, perhaps as practice runs until she manages to hit the right call back number on our caller ID. Here are the transcripts from calls placed last night:

"Hey Granny. Hi. Gym fun. Jump, slide. Boys. Ok. Uh huh. Gym? Ok. Bye bye."

"Hi Pop. Love you. Gym? Bye bye."

Should I be more alarmed that she's already figured out how to bypass Mom and Dad and ask the grandparents or that she's already talking about boys?

Rants and Raves

The last few weeks have been a bit stressful, with at least one member of our family sick at any given time. It’s hard to have a good outlook on life when you don’t feel well, but I’ve decided to look for a silver lining in recent events.

Topic #1: GE Side by Side Stainless Steel Refrigerator, Model No. Unknown

The bad: Our refrigerator has never worked well and is apparently of mysterious origins, per the Sears repair man we called out several years ago when it was on the fritz. He noted the lack of product information and stopped just short of accusing us of buying it off the back of a truck. Yes, that’s me – I like all my major appliances hot. (Is that what the kids are calling stolen goods these days? I don’t know what to call them, much less where to buy them, that uncool am I.) Anyway, the refrigerator finally decided to call it quits this weekend and I immediately started sweating profusely along with my rapidly warming perishables.

The good: Bobby, owner of Always Affordable Appliance Repair. I stumbled upon this guy when my washing machine went on permanent strike after the 18th gazillion load of bibs and burp cloths. Our appliances have staged a revolt in the past year, so Bobby and I have become well acquainted. He is absolutely amazing at what he does – an appliance whisperer, if you will. He can fix just about anything and is so nice that I’m considering asking him to be Lana’s Godfather. Because he’s nice and good with kids, of course – not because my dishwasher is making funny noises. Don’t look at me like that.

Topic #2: My Stuff, where the hell is it?

The bad: It appears that one of the favorite pastimes of a toddler is taking your stuff and relocating it to other parts of the house. Lana particularly loves to pull things out of my nightstand and carry them around, dropping them into clothes hampers, houseplants, toy bins, etc. Whenever I can’t find something in the house I now have to determine whether I’ve simply moved it and forgotten about it or whether Lana’s gotten a hold of it and dropped it into the abyss.

The good: No more personal responsibility! Something’s gone missing? Blame the toddler.

Topic #3: Tennis, ALTA Sunday Women and USTA Mixed

The bad: I can’t win a match to save my life. I’ve become a shadow of my former tennis self -- the one who played while pregnant and never lost a match. I’m one loss away from throwing a full-on John McEnroe tantrum on court.

The good: Getting exercise, spending time with friends, enjoying the nice spring weather, blah, blah, blah. You know, all the stuff that losers like to talk about. But at least Lana thinks I’m a tennis star (witness the t-shirt below or visit Short Fans to get your own). Alas, she also applauded when I showed her how big girls go pee in the potty, so take her endorsement with a grain of salt.