Babies Are Fun

No one ever told me that babies are so much fun. At least you are. Last night we went to the IKEA store and had a blast. You tested out the turning pod chair (with a rounded screen you can pull over the front of it), pushed the cart, played with the stuffed animals, tried the beds, and had Swedish meatballs with lingonberry sauce and french fries for dinner.

Swimming

Today at the pool (our first trip in the States) I saw a side of you I haven't seen for a while. You were quiet and just watched everything around you. For 30 minutes you just watched and looked. You have gotten so comfortable here at home that you rampage around looking for trouble, but in a completely new situation you are that watcher I remember from Guatemala.

Peek A Boo!

On Friday, you suddenly figured out peek-a-boo while I was changing your diaper. Diaper changing time must be quality face time because you've figured out several things while you've been lying there. Or, maybe it's the only time you're not exploring, moving, getting into something. Anyway, you put your hands over your eyes and I said "peek-a-boo", and you 'got it'. Now, if I say peek-a-boo you cover your eyes. It's one of your first games (after clapping and growling and blowing raspberries) and it's really cute.

Why I Love Toys That Make Noise

I had always thought that I would hate toys that made noise. Those really obnoxious toys that play the same idiotic, tinny melody over and over again. You, though, have made me love those toys. When I hear those toys, I think "I know where Isabelle is and she's playing with something safe." It's almost like a pavlovian response now. I hear the train playing "I've Been Working On the Railroad" (a tune I've always loved, partly because my Grandfather worked on the railroad for real) and I relax and enjoy my coffee.

When I hear nothing, that's when I go looking for you. Generally you are 1) playing in the dog water dish 2) playing in the dog kennel or 3) pulling on the Christmas lights. Now that you can crawl like the wind (quickly and quietly) you can be anywhere in the house by the time I've washed off your high-chair tray.

We had planned on making the office an Isabelle-only-under-close-supervision room, but we are in there so much that we're re-thinking that strategy. When you are in there, even though we have a box of your toys in there, you seem unwaveringly drawn to the CD's. Why is that?! Why is a CD so much more fun than a frog or colorful plastic loops? And the amount you are drawn to it seems to be directly proportional to how important the disc is and how difficult it would be to recreate it if you scratched it. I think there's another law of nature in there somewhere.

No, Don't Eat the Dog Food

I thought the biggest problems with your food and toys was to keep Isbre, our dog, out of them. It turns out that the problems is keeping you away from Isbre's food. When you hears food going into Isbre's dish, you start crawling towards the dish like mad. For DOG FOOD. Honestly. This morning I took a moment to read the headline from the paper, and when I looked up you were into Isbre's food and Isbre was eating as fast as she could. When I ran to the dish, you had two handfuls of food and some inyour mouth. Yummy?! So I made you give it all back to Isbre, who happily ate it. Yes, that's right, I fished dog food out of your mouth and gave it to the dog. Motherhood can be so odd.

You also like to play with Isbre's toys, especially when she's chewing on her plastic bones. You take the bone away, then wave it in front of her nose. Isbre has more patience than I do, because usually she just looks harrassed and takes the bone back. She's not willing, though, to let you crawl on her - go figure. The only time I was worried about Isbre with you was yesterday when you crawled in her kennel when she was there. I heard a sound from Isbre that meant she was losing patience and I whisked you right out of there. Okay, I've stressed before that the kennel is off-limits to you, especially when Isbre is in there. What else do I need to do?! I don't know how to keep you out but let Isbre in. Sighhhhhh.

Isbre never touches your toys, but Tesla (our cat) loves them. All your little balls are fair game as far as he's concerned, and late at night I'll hear him batting them around. There's one ball, to your musical tool box, that we still haven't found. Other's we've found under and behind book-cases and desks. Some of them we won't find until we move.

And, for a rant, why can't they settle on one size for balls that go with toys. Come on guys, standardize. Instead of the Senate having hearings on steroids for baseball players, they should be discussing this problem. No toy that comes with balls can use the balls from another toy. They look like they should work, they're so close in size. But no, they get stuck or they won't fit in the chute or they're too small and fall through without making music. Thank God the makers of the train knew kids and the toy ball problem and make it easy to take the back off the train and take out whatever is plugging up the ball rolling belt. If they can make standardized sizes for computer plug-ins, they can do it for balls that come with toys.

We're Really Cruising

We are now cruising on everything. We go along the couch to the coffee table, we go around the coffee table, and if there's nothing else to cruise on we cruise along the wall. The floor is just for kids who can't pull themselves up. We even like having Mom hold our hand while we walk a couple of steps.

I'm looking forward to you walking, but I'm also dreading it. The drawers with spices in them are now withing your grasp, and once you start walking you will begin pulling things out of them. Ever since Robert and I went to the first aid class where the instructor described how sick one of his dorm mates got by swallowing a bunch nutmeg (to see if he got visions) I am wary of you getting into spices. As well as the fact that I don't want to be picking them up from the floor 10 times a day. I suppose I could just tell you no, but a) I don't want to be saying "no" all day long and b) I don't want to worry when you're out of my sight for a moment,

Robert Finally Landed

Robert left for Shanghi, China Sunday morning. I got mail from him yesterday saying that his plane was rerouted twice because of fog in Shanghi, so he was still in Japan and hoping to get to China in a few hours. Fortunately, he landed last night at 3am our time. He had been traveling for more than 39 hours. In some ways I wish I could have gone with him, but I'm not sure how Isabelle would have dealt with a 39+ hour trip (or, for that matter, how I would have dealt with it).

This is a picture from Robert's hotel room. Big buildings. Looks like it's right in Shanghai.

Map shows where Shanghai is in China.

We Have a Screamer

I have found the blog entry that puts what it's like to have a screamer, and is a total gas to read.

http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/12_06_2004.html

I hope she's kept it up to date because I plan to read further about what to do about and expect from the (as the books put it, and it sounds so easy to deal with when they say it) "especially active and intense child".

Day before yesterday was "scream all day" day. It began in Winco as we were shopping. I tried giving her green beans to keep her busy, tickling her, singing. Then I started putting my hand over or into her mouth (keeping the fingers away from the teeth - I've learned that too many times). Most people laughted or gave me a knowing I've-been-through-that -stage look and as far as I could tell we got no glares.

We picked up Dad from work and then proceeded to crawl right up each nerve ending he has.

My Ski Bunny Child

Here is Izzy in the outfit from her Aunt Deanna. I love it because she looks like a Ski Bunny, someone who goes to the slopes to be seen in her cool outfit and may fit some skiing in. (you can't really see it in the picture, but the sweater and pants have glitter and there are a pair of "suede" boots)
Here are the two outfits Izzy got from Aunt Tamara. I like the bright colors.
Robert has solved the problem of Isabelle taking off her bib by putting a vise grip on it. I love it, it's such a guy solution, and it works.
Here's Isabelle helping Dad with work on the bathroom ceiling. We won't go into why work needed to be done on the ceiling.

Izzy got another pair of teeth in over the last week, so she's up to 5. She got the front two on top in. These ones seemed to come in more easily than the other teeth have (thankfully) with no more than a day or so of soreness. She no longer has the cutely off-center look she did have when she had the two middle bottom teeth and one on the top to the right of where the center two would be. I thought it was adorable once the nurse assured me there was no problem with them coming in in an odd order.

Isabelle has figured out how to turn around at the top of the stairs to come back down them.

She likes her train, and mostly uses it to play music that she dances to. She is now pulling herself up on everything in sight and doesn't spend much time on the ground, but doesn't do more than cruise. She has started using the high-chair as a support to walk across the kitchen although she doesn't make it too far yet.

Someone is a total pizza snarf. We've had pizza twice and each time she's eaten a whole slice (minus crust) plus some fruit. She also loves meat loaf and mashed potatoes. And she likes tart things like oranges, pomegranite seeds and cranberry juice. And, if you bring out the whole cranberry jelly for desert, she practically climbs out of her seat to get it before you put some on her tray.