M & V Winter, 2015

                            Madeline at 4 years, 5 months            Vivi at thirteen months 

                               Wearing

 Purple Uggs/ Brown Bearpaws 

(both courtesy of Mimi)

                               Reading

Welcome to Mamoko/ If You Give a Pig a Party...obviously

                                Snacking On

Gummy Fruits/ Wheat Thins with Sunbutter 

                      Playing With

Art Supplies/ Art Supplies 

                                Watching

 

 Angelina Ballerina on the iPad/ Videos of herself on my phone

Bunny Picture

I finally got around to taking Vivi's one-year bunny picture.

She's wearing one of my old baby dresses.  And she's holding the bunny the same way Madeline was in this picture hanging in our living room:

As always, baby girl didn't want to sit still.  

The Glamourous Life of Me

It's funny how when your child gets sick, your mind automatically considers the worst possibilities.  

Here's what happened in our house this morning after I woke up to find Madeline gagging and retching in her crib:  

Calling to Eric from Madeline's room: "Omigod, Eric, I think Madeline has Rabies!!  She keeps gagging, and there's a weird scratch on her neck.  Maybe a bat bit her!"  

A loud sigh emerges from the bedroom where Eric is trying to get ready for work.  I ignore him and start checking under Madeline's bed for bats.  

Even though Madeline probably just ate too much cheese for dinner last night or something equally non-life threatening, I Googled the symptoms of Malaria.  It had to be Malaria.  Or Rabies.  Or Meningitis.    

After a few sad and lethargic hours, Madeline finally sat up and asked for some juice.  She took one sip, started crying, curled up in my lap....and vomited all. over. me.  It was just like old times, except now her stomach is larger than the size of a walnut and her diet consists of more than just breast milk.  Awesome.  

I guess she just needed to get it out of her system, because no sooner had I dabbed a towel across my lap did Madeline ask for a bagel.  I gave her half of one, she ate it, and asked for more.  Now she's back to her usual self.  A few moments ago, she whacked me with a drum stick and said, "Ouch, that hurts."  

Boy, it's a good thing Rabies and Malaria clear up so quickly...

Second Birthday Video

Remember how I made this adorable video for father's day last year?

Well, this year, I decided to wait until Maddie's birthday to make a new one.  This is mainly because we didn't take nearly as many videos this year as we did during her first year of life.  Parenting fail.  Womp. Womp.

I'm a little late getting this finished, but here's a look back at Madeline's life as a one-year-old.




Also, they've reset the votes at Top Baby Blogs again.  If you could take a moment to click the brown button in the sidebar, and then click again when you see the owls, I would greatly appreciate it.  You're awesome.  

And She Sings Too...

Speaking of what Maddie Bear has been saying recently, let's turn our attention to what she's been singing.



Forgive the poor quality...I used my phone.

 I love her stream-of-conciousness babbling after she finishes singing.  She goes from talking about her strap, to buckling her baby in, to Dada's baby, to Mumma, to Mimi's Mumma's Mumma, to Nana, to Nana's House, before returning her focus to her strap.  

Gal just never stops talking.  Love it.

Maddie Bear Says...

Happiness Is...

 What's been making YOU happy lately?

Signs my Toddler is Trying to Kill Me

Madeline is usually a very sweet, loving baby girl.  Yet, with more and more frequency, her eyes glass over, she grits her teeth, and her head starts spinning on her shoulders.  Okay, maybe her head doesn't spin...but it sure feels like it does.  It's during these "episodes" that she decides to inflict bodily harm on her poor, suffering parents.  

I heard once that cats scratch when they become overstimulated.  Perhaps that's what we're experiencing.  Her little brain can't handle the stress of toddlerhood anymore.  So much juice!  So much sharing!  So much spinning until dizzy!  After so much stimulation, she decides that someone must suffer.  Naturally, her parents are the perfect target for her rage.

On the other hand, maybe this isn't a typical case of toddlers being toddlers.  Perhaps Madeline really is plotting to kill us..

Evidence:

Kicking:
 
She kicks us while we're changing her diaper.
She kicks us under the dinner table.
She sat on my lap and kicked me in the chin as soon as I got home from school yesterday.
 
Biting:
   
Madeline got in trouble at school for biting once and never did it again.  However, she still thinks it's funny to watch other creatures bite one another. She saw some dogs biting one another the other day, and her reaction was to laugh manically while chanting, "Bite!  Bite!"  She's a baby Michael Vick.

Scratching:

She scratches our hands while we push her in the shopping cart.  
She scratches our hands when we hold her hand in the car.
She also scratched my neck last week while I got her ready for bed.

Pinching:

She pinches my feet while we sit on the couch.
Sometimes she states very calmly, as if she's a doctor about to administer a shot,"I pinch," before doing it.

And the cherry on top?

Last night during dinner she leaned over and stabbed the back of my hand with her fork.  After I explained why it's bad to hurt Mumma and gave her a second chance with the fork....she stabbed me again.  She went forkless at dinner tonight.

Madeline knows she's being bad because as soon as she hurts us, she leans in for a kiss or opens her arms wide for a hug.  It's like she thinks that it's okay to hurt us as long as she balances it out with a kiss or hug.  

I'm so cute!  Don't be mad at me.  Winky face.  

It only works about 50 percent of the time.   

First Haircut: Fail

My mom has a series of adorable photographs of her and my aunt as very young children pasted into a family album.  The black and white images of two little girls in 1950s coats, hats, and dresses look staged for a Hollywood film.  They just seem so perfectly retro.

Every time my mom sees those photographs, however, she groans and laughs about the "terrible" haircuts my grandmother used to give them.  It's true that the bangs are a bit too short and very square, but to me, that only enhances the charm.  Yet, fifty years later, my mother is still traumatized by the memory of the at-home haircut.

Someday, if Madeline has a way to look back through the thousands of digital images I've stored, will she be equally mortified by what I've done to her?

I gave Madeline her first haircut last night.  It did not turn out well, but I'm not really sure why I expected it to.

I've cut my own hair several times.  Every time it has been a complete whim.  Every time it has been a mistake and a complete disaster.  I don't have the patience to cut my own hair.  Nor do I have any kind of skill to deal with the thick, wavy, red rat's nest that resides on my dome.

Yet, cutting one's own hair is a bit like childbirth.  After a time, you forget the horror and try again.    

Pre haircut

So last night, while I ran my hands through the scraggly mop of curls threatening to engulf my daughter's head, I thought, "Meh, why not?  I can cut her hair!"

After her bath, I sat her in front of me, combed her hair as straight as I could get it, and without much thought, started snipping away.

I was worried about the possibility of accidentally taking off an earlobe or two, so I worked very quickly.  
Then I looked at the front of her head, realized I had given her a reverse mullet, and chopped the bangs off too.  The whole thing was over in no more than three minutes.

Since her hair was wet, I couldn't fully assess the damage, but I knew it wasn't good.  This morning, I as I pulled Madeline from her crib, I got the full affect.

The first problem is that I cut it way too short in the back.  It's also crooked.  Her bangs are also way too short, but at least they aren't crooked.  Of course, that part of her hair is curly, so it's hard to tell.  Meanwhile, the hair over her right ear looks fine, but the left side of her head is too long.  She also has some random long curls left in the middle in places.    

So it seems that the trauma of the mother's haircut has skipped a generation.  My mother cut my hair herself when I was a little girl, but I don't remember it ever looking particularly bad.

 But hey, it will grow back.  It only took Madeline two years to grow the hair she had before I cut it, which is just enough time for me to forget that I can't cut hair.  

Monday Morning Messes with Mumma and Maddie Bear

I have a confession to make.

I did not wake up at 4 am to make muffins this morning.  Gasp. Shock. Horror.  In fact, this project didn't even happen this week.  It happened two weeks ago....on a Wednesday...afternoon.

Wednesday Afternoon Messes with Mumma and Maddie Bear just doesn't have the same ring to it though.  And if you can't lie on the Internet anymore then what is this world coming to?

Let's pretend this little confession never happened, shall we?  

Would this face ever mislead you??  

Last Wednesday afternoon Monday morning, we found ourselves in the possession of three giant, delicious zucchini from our garden.  As it turns out, we're pretty awesome farmers.  But since we spent the better part of a month eating delicious zucchini on an almost daily basis, I was little over it.

Enter zucchini muffins!  This project served two purposes:

First, I figured it would be a good opportunity for Madeline and I to play Martha and Julia in the kitchen together.  I can't decide who's who for the life of me.  Frankly, it looks like both of us spent the morning in a Yurt without a comb.  That's not very Julia, and certainly not Martha.

I was also hoping I could trick persuade Madeline into eating some vegetables if they came in the form of a muffin. (It didn't work.)  I'm pretty sure the amount of sugar and butter in the recipe I used outweighs any nutritional benefit these muffins may have had, but at least there's fiber or something like that.....right???  Maddie also ate about half a canister of raisins during the process.  We like to keep things regular around here.

Madeline was a great little helper.  She was having so much fun, in fact, that she managed to dump half a container of salt into the batter of one of the muffins before I could stop her.

If I were a smarter lady, I would have put a toothpick in that muffin, but alas, too much of my brain has been wasted on Disney songs and Saved by the Bell references.  Therefore, we have one very salty mystery muffin somewhere in the bunch.

Do any of these muffins look saltier than the rest to you?

23 Months

Dear Madeline,

I'm a few days late with your letter again this month.  As always, I'm finding myself wondering, "Where did the summer go?"  And, in just a handful of weeks you'll be a mighty two-year-old.  How can this be?  

You're turning into quite the little lady these days, my dear.  You love the color pink.  When we went to buy cupcakes before the wedding, you insisted on getting the pink one.  When you got to choose between two pom-poms at gymnastics, you made it very clear you would accept nothing but the pink option.  When you see your clothes in your closet you plead, "Da pink one!  I want pink!"  Luckily, you have a lot of pink clothing to choose from.  

Your favorite movies are Tangled and The Best of Elmo Volume 2.  Most of the time you get bored with watching television pretty quickly, but you will sit still to watch the entire movie if Elmo or Rapunzel are involved.  

After several weeks of being quite picky, you seem to be eating a wider variety of foods again.  We were shocked to see you scarf down an extremely spicy beef taco when were visiting Vermont....green salsa and all.  When you were finished, you cried for more.  We ordered you a second one.  You ate that too.   

Of course, your favorite food is still a bowl of pasta with butter and cheese, so you're not that adventurous.  Still, it's an improvement!  

You're very independent.  You like to try to go down the stairs yourself, climb on the playground yourself, and wash your hands yourself.  In fact, you're quite obsessed with washing your hands.  Sometimes we have to tell you no, which seems a bit backward, but you don't need to wash your hands every five minutes.  

Your independent streak has also gotten you into some trouble a few times when we've caught you sneaking out of the house without us.  Luckily, it still takes you a long time to get down the stairs otherwise you'd be gone, baby, gone.  We now keep the doors latched at all times.  

We were very proud of you at your final gymnastics class last week.  Not only had you learned most of the moves, including donkey kicks and a (teacher-aided) somersault, but you were so well behaved!  A lot of the other kids were too tempted by all the toys to stay with the group, (and who can blame them?) but you very patiently waited for directions before you took your turn.  

Meanwhile, we've been getting a kick out of having conversations with you.  You speak so well now that we can ask about your day and try to piece together what you're telling us.  Out of nowhere you'll make a comment like, "I like gymnastics!"  We'll start asking you questions about it, "Oh, really?  What do you do there?  What's your favorite part?  Who's in your class?"  And you'll give us simple answers, "Hee-haw.  Foam pit.  Kids."  

This morning we listened to you talking to yourself in your crib about going in Mumma's car in your seat.  Then you started calling, "Eric!  Errrrrrrric!  Eric, where are you?"  You've figured out that Dada's name is Eric, but you haven't quite figured out why you don't get to call him that.  

Dada went in your room to get you and asked, "Who am I?"  and you answered, "Eric!"  It took several tries before you gave him the answer he wanted.

You'll be going back to daycare full time soon because Mumma and Dada have to go back to work, but we feel very lucky to be able to spend so much time with you over the summer months.  

 We've got big things planned in the coming months....toddler bed and perhaps some potty training.  I'm sure you'll take it all in stride as you usually do.

Love you lots, Maddie Bear!

Love, 

Mumma 

Maddie Bear Says....er....Sings...

We hear from the back seat of our car:    

"At last see the lights.  Lights in the sky.  Lights in the sky.  Now she's here!" she sings her own version of a song from Tangled.    

Eric joins her singing, "A whole new world!  A whole fantastic point of view!"  

Maddie pauses and scowls.  "No, Dada.  No.  Don't do dat.  Don't sing dat!"  she shakes her head violently.  

Eric and I die laughing from the front seat.  

Madeline continues, ignoring our laughter, this time with a lot more emotion and depth, "Now she's here!  Now she's HERE!  Now she's HERE!  I see the lights!"  

Baby Gymnastics

Unless you live under a rock, you may have heard that there's a little competition called the Olympics going on.  Well, I say...Olympics Schmaimpics.

Forget Gabby, Jordyn and Aly.  Baby gymnastics?  Now that's where it's at, people.

My mom signed Madeline and I up for a parent/tot gymnastics class after finding a good Groupon deal.  Someday, when Madeline wins a gold medal, thanks go to you, Mimi.  I probably never would have thought of signing Madeline up on my own.

Weeks before the class started, I was worried we'd be bested by a group of overly competitive toddlers with names like Svetlana, Sergey and Xui Li.  Baby Svetlana would be doing back flips through the door blinding us with her sequined diaper and false eyelashes while Xui Li's mother timed how long it took her baby to climb the rope to the ceiling.  Meanwhile, Madeline and I would be all like, "Yo, when's the next break?  I need a dang rest!  And are there Cheerios involved??"

Luckily, my worries were unfounded.  We have a small group of very nice toddlers who are all equally awkward and uncoordinated.  The most competitive we get is learning how to wait in line for the bubbler.

Have you ever tried to teach a kitten to play the violin?  No?  I'm sure someone on YouTube must have.  Well, a kitten orchestra must be a lot like baby gymnastics.

If medals were handed out in baby gymnastics, here's how I'd rate Madeline:  

Pretending You are an Airplane:  Bronze

When we run around pretending we are airplanes, Madeline usually forgets to put her arms out.  When she does remember, she shoots them straight up above her head Superman style instead.  Therefore, although she may not be technically proficient in this category, I still feel she deserves a medal for creativity.  

Balance Beam:  Gold

Madeline rocks the balance beam! The first time the teacher showed us what we'd be doing, I thought she was mad.  (You want my baby girl to walk across that thing?  Really?  You do realize that she falls for no reason walking on normal ground right?)  But Madeline has surprisingly good balance.  She only has to hold one of my hands instead of two, she can bend over to touch her toes, and she can throw beanbags into hula hoops all from the balance beam.  Total gold, baby.

Trampoline:  Bronze

Madeline hasn't quite figured out that she's supposed to bounce across the trampoline.  Instead, she yells, "RUNNNNNNNNN!" while going as fast as her little legs will take her.  Due to the lack of traction on the trampoline, Madeline picks up enough speed to strongly resemble a whirligig.  By the time she gets to the other side, her momentum causes her to face plant into the mats.  Every. single. time.  She doesn't mind.  She giggles.  I've given up trying to show her how to bounce across.  She's just so happy, and I like her style.  

Donkey Kicks: Silver

For a long time, Madeline would just stand there and watch me demonstrate donkey kicks with a wicked little smile on her face that seemed to suggest, "Mumma, you literally look like a jack ass."  But after a few lessons, she's starting to get the hang of it.  She still only kicks one leg up in the air instead of getting both feet off the ground.  Sometimes she sees me through her legs while she's upside down and gets distracted.  "Hi, Mumma!  Hi, Mumma!  Up. Side. Dooowwwn. *Giggle*"   She's getting there though.

Foam Pit:  Gold

The gymnasium has a giant pit filled with foam blocks that we spend the last ten minutes of each class trying not to drown in.  It's deeper than me, so I'm pretty sure there could be some lost gymnasts buried under there.  I'm even more certain that the thing hasn't been cleaned since 1994.  I caught a whiff today.  Next time, I'm tempted to yell "Doody!" in an attempt to reenact the scene from Caddy Shack.

Madeline doesn't care that the mob may have disposed bodies there.  She's just uber excited to be tossed into a giant pit of foam blocks.  Really, who can blame her?  Sometimes she starts to sink and I have to pull her out by an ankle, but mostly she's light enough to wiggle across the surface.

I'd say, all in all, baby gymnastics has been a success so far.  Daily Madeline asks for "Nastics?"  so she must approve.  

It makes me wonder.  Is this where it all starts?  Fifteen years ago while I was learning marching band drills and making out at the bowling alley (cause I was awesome) were the current Olympians doing donkey kicks with their mothers?  Did they fail at trampoline bouncing, or were they like baby Sergey doing back handsprings before they reached twenty-four months?  
 

It's Still a Mess...

I did not have a "Monday Morning Messes with Mumma and Maddie Bear" this week.  Bwomp, bwomp.

I had planned on making a butterfly windsock out of paper towel rolls and tissue paper because we visited a butterfly garden on Sunday, and I thought I'd stick with the theme.

Instead, this happened:

Madeline helped me tear up some tissue paper and then insisted on dumping it everywhere.  She buried one of her stuffed animals in it a few times, poured it on her head, refilled the bowl and repeated the process of dumping it.

She was as happy as a clam, so I didn't try to take the project any further.  Madeline still made a mess and she still had fun.  Mission accomplished!

July Behind the Scenes

Goodbye July.  I will miss you.  Not because you are responsible for our highest energy bill to date due to your incessant hot weather, but because now it is August.  August means the end of summer vacation.  Sad face.  

Here's a look back at July.