Mabes-isms

A few of the random things Mabes has said or done lately. I will use this to embarrass her someday.


Holding her bootie--"Hot toots! Hot toots! I call dem hot toots, because my toots feel like dey're hot." Ummmmmm...go to the bathroom!

"My cheeks are cold because I need to poo." I don't get the logic here.

"Go mom go mom go mom! Yay, you passed da truck! Just like Mario Kart!" If only my car launched red shells.

"It would be cool to walk on water. I don't know how Jesus did it. I wish I could walk on da water just like Jesus."

She's really into writing and practicing her letters. Today, she wrote her name on a sheet of paper and said, "Mommy, will you tell me how to write 'no fanks'? I want to write it on dis paper." I spelled it out for her while she wrote down the letters. She put down the s (backwards), looked at the sheet of paper which read "Emaline no thanks," thought a moment, and then said, "And now F" and started to put an F before the T. "No, Mabes, you're done! It says 'no thanks,' you don't need to add any more letters!"

"But mommy, it needs a F. 'No FANKS.' See, fanks starts wif F."



And fanks to my dad, I've been "singing" this song for days now. I showed it to Dave and made some comment about how weird it was, and Mabes got really offended and said, "It's not weird! I love dis music!" and continued to do a strange jig. It also calmed Annabelle's fussiness, so maybe this guy is onto something.



Since I don't want to end on that, here are pictures of Mabes and Annabelle, each at 2 months, wearing the same dress. Note the tights that look more like pants on Annabelle.

The greatest sound in the world

So I'm off the wagon. Or back on, depending on how you look at it. I'm off the no-sugar wagon and happily back on the solid chocolate sugar-filled wagon. But I became painfully aware of how dependent I was on sugar (particularly chocolate) and had done a good job of limiting sweets for the last week and a half. Except for our weekend trip to visit Dave's family, but chocolate covered long johns are so worth it. (If you're ever near Wilson, stop by the donut shop and get one. Or all of them. They're basically giant chocolate covered cream filled donuts, and they're fantastic.)

I'm still getting over a terrible cold that I feared was a sinus infection (didn't want a repeat of 2008), and it looks like Annabelle is getting my cold. So it's been a rough couple of days. But then today, while she was on my bed gazing at the ceiling fan, Dave turned it on for a few seconds. Annabelle smiled and kicked her legs. He turned it on again, she kicked her legs and seemed to choke on her smile. I looked at Dave--was that? Sure enough, seconds later, we got her first real laugh. I'm not sure why, but baby laughs are quite possibly the greatest sound in the world. It made my day.

"What? No, I wasn't laughing at the fan. That would be silly."

And a few more pictures, since it's been a while:

She's getting cheeks and mastering the fist shake/stink eye.

Chillin' in her swing.

It's been a long week...

Why, you ask?

For starters, for some reason (that I can only chalk up to temporary insanity), I swore off all sweet treats for the week. Including Diet Coke/Diet Dr Pepper. No big deal, right? If you're thinking that, you've never met me.

It's kind of ridiculous how many times I've thought, "I'll just grab a handful of Junior Mints" or "It's late, I missed lunch, I'll just have a couple of cookies to tide me over until dinner." And of course it was raining Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday--perfect cookie baking weather (my mom always made cookies when it rained, so the Pavlovian response is ingrained in me). And then today Mabes came running in and said, "I have an idea, Mommy! Let's make chocolate chip cookies for Daddy!" She was completely deflated when I shot down that idea.

So I'm counting down the hours until Saturday, when I can dig back into the ice cream that's calling my name. But I think this week has given me the kick in the maternity pants that I needed to cut back on treats. I'm hoping I can fit into pants with buttons and zippers by summer, though the part of me that wants to eat the entire 72 oz bag of chocolate chips in my freezer is telling me to just give up and order a pair of pajama jeans.*

Add to that, it's my week to teach preschool. Which is always crazy, loud, fun, and exhausting, and I always need a Diet Coke after. (It's not even the caffeine--I've switched to caffeine-free!) Wednesday wasn't terrible, but seeing her at school interacting with her friends makes me dread real school and parent teacher conferences where they'll surely tell me she's a smart girl but a little too social. When it's just us, she can focus fine and loves to practice her letters, color, etc. But when there are other kids, she has to be talking. Shocker. She wasn't even deterred when her friend "Hengry" turned to her and said, "Emyine, you talk too much."

And then today was Annabelle's 2 month check-up. I'm in denial that she's already almost 2 months old. The appointment went well and her doctor said she looks great and is growing perfectly. She's 11 lbs 5 oz, 23.5 inches. Which puts her in the 75th percentile for weight and 90th percentile for height, and Dave was sad that she's "so little." I pointed out that statistically, she's not, since she weighs more than 75% of other girls her age. "Yeah, but with Mabes, she was always above the 95th percentile for height and weight--I like to think it's because she's an overachiever." That's okay, Annabelle is an overachiever in awesomeness.

But she got some shots today, which is always rough on baby and mom. She was happily cooing and smiling at me when the nurse quickly gave her the shots, and Annabelle's smile quickly faded to a look which seemed to say, "Et tu, Mommé?" before letting out an ear-piercing scream. She then calmed down and slept for a couple of hours before waking up to cry again. I spent the rest of the afternoon holding her while she slept. After a long nap, she smiled at me during a diaper change, so I'm hoping all is forgiven.

And now I'm going to have a nice, delicious...apple. Boo. I really want a trough of ice cream.




*Thanks, Lisa, for that. They're all I can think about now. Well, when I'm not thinking about sugar. They seem almost as bad as the Snuggie, but given my love of comfy pants, I'm seriously mad I didn't think of pajama jeans first!

Keep talkin' happy talk

When I was little, I would occasionally zone out and Sarah would walk in and ask what I was doing--when I responded with "thinking," Sarah would make fun of me and while it may sound strange and I certainly love to talk, sometimes I just enjoy silence, complete peaceful silence, but apparently Sarah didn't understand that, and now I see that neither does Mabes because she talks all.the.time, and it's not even just incessant meaningless prattling, it's questions that require answers and statements that require more than just "uh huh" or "okay," because after responding like that a few times while, to be perfectly honest, not paying attention to what she's saying, she'll stop and say, "Mommy, are you really listening? What did I say?" --awesome, I didn't know there was going to be a pop quiz--and then she just keeps talking.

Exhausting run-on, huh? Welcome to life with Mabes.

Studies show that men speak about 7,000 words a day, whereas women clock in at about 20,000. I'm guessing Mabes would be at about 95,000. At least. My sister Becca used to say that it was like she had all these words stored up in her that she just had to get out every day, and if she didn't, Laura, who shared a room with her, had to listen to her talk herself to sleep. So I guess that's where Mabes gets it from, and I guess I'll just have to get used to her getting her words out.

(I have to admit, as much as she talks, I don't always see it as happy talk. For some reason, song titles or lines just make for good blog post titles. Name that musical?)

Backlogged

I haven't been posting much, so here's a quick summary of the last couple of weeks:

It snowed:




Mabes got a haircut (Except she doesn't call it a haircut. It's a TRIM! Daddy gets haircuts, and she doesn't want to look like a boy.) and now looks like a real kid.


And now she's commuting to uptown...

(cue Sheena Easton's "Morning Train")


What happened to my cute little toddler?

It snowed again


and Dave and Mabes had a snowball fight and built a (small) snowman.


Annabelle is cuter than ever. She's starting to get fussier in the evenings, but it's not bad at all. Kind of reassuring that she's a normal baby, as I was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with her. And, like her sister, it's nothing a little Kanye (specifically, "Golddigger") can't take care of.

Ridiculous

There are a few things that are so good it's kind of ridiculous. Bacon. 24. Chocolate chip cookies. My last batch of cinnamon rolls. Annabelle. (Should I be embarrassed that most of those are food? Probably, but I'm not.) Seriously folks, Mabes wasn't a particularly difficult baby, she just didn't like to sleep. I'm not sure why I'm so shocked by Annabelle, or why I go on and on about how great she is. Perhaps I had prepared myself for the worst? I know things can and will change. So once again, I'm taking the opportunity to write down how good things are now, so I can remember when things may not be as good.


Annabelle was blessed yesterday at church, and Dave's mom was able to be here for it. She came Saturday and babysat Mabes so Dave and I could go to a Valentine's party. Since Annabelle isn't taking a bottle yet, we took her. She tends to get fussy in the evenings, but if she's being held, she's perfectly happy looking around, so I figured she'd be okay. Annabelle slept the first hour or so in her carseat, then woke up and fussed for a minute until I put her in the sling. Though she didn't go back to sleep, she spent the rest of the evening watching what was going on--she didn't even mind my eating dip and dropping the occasional brownie crumb on her. Dave and I had a great time with friends, and even though we had Annabelle, it felt like we were out alone. Honestly, it was easier with her than had I been 8 months pregnant!


Sunday was our first time getting our family of four ready for church, and I'm very grateful church is now at 10:30 instead of 8:30! We managed to get there early, despite car issues and the zipper jamming on the only skirt that fits right now. Boo! I don't appreciate being mocked by my clothes. Annabelle didn't like getting dressed, but then slept through everything. The blessing was beautiful. I went a little overboard taking pictures--here's a sampling:




And a couple more. I'm sure my mom will get mad and say there are more flattering pictures of her, but I think they're cute. It's what I see holding her. And why I've been spending so much time sitting on the couch, just holding her. I could do something productive, but why? I'll just enjoy this instead.

One month!

Sunday marked one whole month of Annabelle. She celebrated this milestone by having her first blowout in her last newborn diaper. I'll go ahead and admit that I almost cried when I realized she was outgrowing her newborn diapers--she still seems so tiny (then again, Mabes outgrew them after a week or so). She continues to be the sweetest baby. She's starting to get a little fussy at times, but it's only because she wants to be held and then she's fine. I can handle that. For the most part, she spends her time eating, sleeping, looking around, not crying, and cuddling. And I know most people would say it's too early for social smiles, but I swear she's smiling. It's different than smiles in her sleep. She's making eye contact with us, and Dave gets smiles more often than Mabes or I do. Annabelle seems to be recognizing our voices, though, and seems happy when she hears us, even if she isn't saying, "Oh, look, it's my big stister Mabes! I just love my big stister!", which is what Mabes thinks she's thinking.



I feel like I mostly know who reads my blog. Family, friends, the occasional blog-hopper from friends of friends... But I'm amused when I hear about people that I may not know as well (or not at all) who enjoy my blog. I mean, really--my life is not exciting. So I was quite flattered when Laura told me about her friend who loved kids and loved reading Sarah's and my blogs. I sent Rachel a Christmas card last year (still working on this year's...maybe we'll do Valentines?), and get updates on her from Laura.

And then Monday, Mabes and Annabelle received packages in the mail. Mabes was elated to see this:
"It's...it's...an ELEPHANT! Wif a shirt! I have a shirt like dat! From Aunt Laura! It says, 'I love da York!' Oh, I LOVE dis elephant! Wasn't it nice of Aunt Laura's Rachel to send me dis elephant?"

Rachel had kindly removed the sound box that apparently made a loud elephant noise when squeezed--she's obviously spent time around kids and kid toys. Elephant doesn't have a name yet, though Mabes is taking suggestions. He has joined Ricecake, Charlie, and Sharkie in the elite group of Mabes' toys, known as her kids. They get most of her attention and play time, naturally. I mean, they are her kids.