Extremely stubborn and suspicious

The Bumble prefers to eat off of my or Mike's plate. When I fix her her own plate of food, she regards it suspiciously. I don't know why, she's always eaten exactly the same thing as us. We totally skipped jarred baby food, so if you ask me, we have done nothing to earn her distrust. But now she's asking me to take a bite first before she agrees to eat anything I make for her, even if it is off my own plate. I think she thinks we are trying to poison her, perhaps so that we can finally get a decent night's sleep. Rest assured, little Bumble. If we find a sleeping potion, it's going in your sippy cup.

Welcome to Toddler Town

I was chopping vegetables for dinner last night when a slow slurp and a "Yum! Good!" made me turn around to find that the Bumble had pushed her stepstool up to the sink and was drinking dirty dishwater with a spoon.

How does your garden grow

The Bumble is very interested in all our houseplants, but she's not allowed to touch them. I felt bad for her since she obviously wanted to play with the water and the dirt, too, so last week I started a little kitchen scrap garden for her. We planted carrots tops, garlic cloves, beans, and lettuce seeds in some old food containers, then placed them all on a lipped tray in the brightest room of the house and since then, she has been watering to her heart's content.



She loves being able to use the watering can and moving her rock from one pot of dirt to another. I don't think she actually grasps that anything is supposed to grow in her garden, though.



Still, when her lettuce seeds sprouted yesterday, I excitedly called her into the dining room to check it out. I thought she would be thrilled to see a change in her little garden.



She ran over and got down low on the ground to examine the sprouts closely.

What, that's it?

But what she saw left her questioning my mental acuity.

More snow!

I forced the Bumble out into the snow for a while this morning. Our neighbor threw a snowball at her, which she picked up and carried around for a while, contemplating.


She insisted on walking to the playground, despite my efforts to persuade her that she wouldn't like it covered in snow. She kept insisting, so I relented and off we went.



She practiced catching snowflakes with her tongue along the way.




When we got to the playground, she found out that I actually know what I am talking about every once in a while.

Photos can be deceiving

To look at this photo, you'd think the Bumble loved snow. But here she gives her real opinion:

Welcome winter

It was a cold, cold long weekend. The winds were harsh and bitter. The sun was not warm. It even snowed a couple of times. The Bumble said "ew" at the snow, but she did like the hot cocoa that followed.

When the wind died down, we bundled up and took the Bumble to the zoo's Festival of Lights. It was gorgeous and the Bee got to meet Santa's reindeer and Santa's missus.

My sugar plum fairy

Thanksgiving over, now we are decorating everything in sight, including the Bumble. She isn't so sure about this, but if she puts up with it, the Santa will bring her stickers. So she hears.

I hear you

Any time there is a new sound, the Bee gasps and asks me "Noise?" She waits for me to identify the noise and then nods solemnly and repeats the answer back to me as best she can. When she does recognize a noise, she says (for instance)

Dog! I hear you! woof woof!
Train! I hear you! choo choo!
Bird! I hear you! Tweet!

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I think she needs her own little snack table. I have been thinking it for a while, but today that thought was really cemented when the Bumble carried her snack tray and sippy cup over to our dirty old stepstool and turned it into a tiny half-picnic table.

Bull

Last week, the Bumble was watching "Shaun the Sheep" while I was washing dishes, when she suddenly ran screaming into the kitchen "Scary! Scary!" Scary? I didn't even know she knew that word. I walked into the living room to see what was so scary and it was this claymation bull on the screen, huffing and puffing with glowing red eyes.

I turned it off and tried to explain that there was nothing to be afraid of, but I don't think she got it. In fact, I know she didn't get it because now she is even afraid of cows. Just regular cows. Cows on the milk carton. Cows on commercials. Stuffed cows in her toy box. She points at them and screams "Scary!" I tried to correct her and told her the word was "Cow," but she came back with "Scary cow."

It's not all cows and screaming, though. Look, here is a video of a dancing baby!

Beady little eyes

The Bumble has been fine-tuning her dexterity by stringing and re-stringing her beads. Here she is showing off the beads she made, painted, and strung.

popsicles

The Bumble took a tumble and landed on her mouth. The poor thing had such a swollen face, she burst into tears when she saw herself in the mirror. Suffering so terribly did have its upside, though..

Christmas tree ornaments, part 2

PAINT!

Christmas tree ornaments, part 1

Today we began our Christmas tree ornament project. It was a very easy recipe. You just mix together

1 Cup of salt
2 Cups of flour
1 Cup of water
2 Tablespoons of vegetable oil

Shape the dough however you'd like, then bake at 250 degrees for 1-2 hours.

The Bumble really enjoyed playing with the dough. She was pretty bad at shapes, though she did like destroying the shapes I made. We made a lot of beads, a couple candy canes, and a few circles.







Tomorrow, we paint!

PS- A million thank-yous to Aunt Brenda for the smocks!

Mean

She's only 19 months old, but it's already happened. The other day, I took away the huge jar of Goldfish crackers she was carrying around the house before she spilled the contents everywhere and she screamed "MEAN!" at me. Not just once, either, She followed me around for several minutes screaming "MEAN!" over and over again until... actually I can't even remember what made her stop. Mike, maybe. Or Halloween candy? Possibly both. But I can assure you, I will never forget the sound of her first accusatory "MEAN!"

Happy Halloween!

Today we're taking the Bee to a farm for a hayride and corn maze, then heading back home to try some trick-or-treating. When that inevitably ends in tears, we'll retreat home to light a fire and hand out some candy. Should be a great day. Happy Haween, everyone!

All green thumbs

Today the Bumble helped her father till the earth of our side-yard in order to plant grass and build a structure for our future vegetable garden.

She was a little confused at first


And it was a bit of hard work


But once she got into it, it was really fun


And very rewarding.

Smart with me

This morning the Bumble removed her own diaper, wiped her own bum, and then put on her pants all by herself. She did these things clumsily, ineffectively, and backwards, respectively. But she was still very, very proud of herself.

In an attempt to show recognition for her achievements, I asked her if she would help me put on my socks. I specifically said, "Will you put this sock on my foot, please?" She nodded and then very gingerly placed the sock on the top of my foot, then ran away giggling to herself. Wisenheimer.

Loony

The Bumble loves the moon. When she sees the moon in the sky, night or day, she immediately rhapsodizes, "Moony, OH! Moony." It's pretty hysterical, and I am hoping to get it on video soon. Her voice is so full of love and awe.

Her favorite line in any poem, song, book, or nursery rhyme is "the cow jumped over the moon." She loves every syllable of the phrase and she will mouth the words along when I say it. She will then smile and nod her approval and then utter the sacred words herself "Oooooooo'er the moon." Then she will sigh with contentment and if the moon is in view, she will raise her face up to it and say "Moony, OH! Moony."

Health, Money, and Love

I've been firmly in the "Bless you" camp for years now. There were a couple of years after taking Spanish language classes when I toyed with "Salud", but it's been strictly "Bless you" after sneezes for most of my life. It's my culture and heritage. I don't actually believe any silly sneezing superstitions, it's just a reflex. Hear achoo, say "Bless you." That's how it goes.

Mike has always been a Gesundheit-er. He argues that it is more fun to say and he is certainly not wrong there. I could never get into it. To me, it kinda sounds like you are making fun of the way the person sneezed.

The Bumble, meanwhile, mostly ignores sneezes. At least, she did until last week. Last week, I sneezed while driving and this little tiny pipsqueak voice piped up from the backseat, "Zoon tite!" And every sneeze since then has been met with an enthusiastic "Zoon tite!" So, Mike wins this one.

Please send more arms or a mild sedative

The Bumble has not been a good sleeper for a couple of weeks now. Maybe longer. To make matters worse, for a week she's been super, super clingy. I can't take two steps away from her without her screaming "Holdy!" or "Git down!" (which means "get up") So, I've mostly been holding this 25 pound kid nonstop for days and even as I am holding her she is begging me to hold her more. What is happening here?

The costume

Here you go!

You don't really take notice of what you say and how often you say it until you have a toddler parroting things back at you. Apparently I say "Here you go!" every time I hand something over to the Bumble. Now when she wants something that I am holding, she comes toward me with her hands outstretched and says ever-so-hopefully "Here you go?"



We have been having a grand time traveling to Florida and back and then camping and we are about to have more grand times flying to Colorado next week. Bumble has been a great traveler and really, really enjoys airports and planes. After the Colorado trip, we're going to be homebound for the fall and winter, so we'll be moving on to another adventure-- pets! We've been thinking of adopting a retired lab animal and maybe even getting a dog. Here we go!

Language comprehension needs improvement

I was so impressed that Bumble managed to communicate that a bug had bitten her arm (she pointed to her arm and said "OW! Buggy bitey! Booboo!") Then I handed her a snack and said "Don't ruin anything." She immediately ran to her new pillow and smeared yogurt all over it. I need some Advil. Or some more of this:

the perfect child

We are back from our trip and the Bumble was a fantastic flyer and we were allowed plenty of snacks and all was well. We are ready for Round 2 in a couple of weeks when we fly down to south Florida for Pepere's 80th.


The other night after the Bumble Bee went to sleep, Mike and I stayed up late and had a glass of wine and, naturally, started talking about the Bumble. We were expressing our hopes of raising her right, not too spoiled, not too deprived, and etc, etc. I think this is a normal conversation and I think the natural launching point is to try to correct from the mistakes your own parents made in raising you. Well, Mike and I quickly came to the conclusion that we are perfect and our parents made zero mistakes in raising us. In fact, we started to panic a little because we had already deviated from their perfect parenting model. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that we hadn't done hardly any of the same things at all in the almost year and a half that we have been parents and it all became very clear that Mike and I were already doomed.


Dooooooooooooomed

Plane!

Tomorrow morning we are flying to Portland, OR with the toddler. One layover, one hour. A little confused about how long we will actually be in the air due to time changes, but not up to doing math right now. I have more important things to think about. Like can I bring toddler-snacks on the plane, or will there be screaming if they try to take away her precious goldfish crackers? If they don't allow snacks, should I attempt to smuggle the goldfish crackers into body cavities or is that going too far? Or not far enough?

Little scullery maid

Lately the Bumble has decided that it is entirely unfair that I get to splash around in the sink and she doesn't, so when it is time to do the dishes, she asks me to drag the stool up to the sink for her so that she can reach, too. This means that washing dishes now takes at least twice as long as she washes her little orange cup over and over again and then puts the dishes that are drying back into the soapy water and the dishes that are soapy up with the dishes that are drying and then dumps water and suds all over the kitchen floor when she gets too excited and starts waving her arms around madly.



She really loves being a big help.

snack time

I'm not one to encourage "babytalk," but I will admit that it melts my heart when I prepare a snack tray for the Bee and she excitedly cries "Cackers 'n hummy!*" She also really likes peekoos, which are, of course, pickles. She'll wash that down with a cup of waddy, thanks.





*crackers and hummus, naturally

As requested

Bubbles.

Mike said last night that if we ever have another baby, we should start with a 16 month old. Toddlerhood is getting very fun. Seeing life through the Bumble's eyes is delightful. Mike showed her how to blow bubbles yesterday and she positively freaked out with the sheer joy of it. She learned to say "Bubble" and "Pop!" instantly.

We just got home from beautiful Pennsylvania, where the Bee slept through her flowergirl gig. Wedding pictures coming soon, I'm sure. Until then, here's some of the Bee playing at her grandparents' family compound: