Charlotte At Almost Five

Charlotte is almost five! Happy due date, five years ago today! Age five! Five forever! I love five! I am about to have another five-year-old (yay)! ... My last five-year-old (sob).

But really. Look at this beautiful young lady. She hardly seems like a baby anymore.

(Hahahahahaaaaaa yeah right *wipes tear* no no, she's obviously still The Baby. Of course.)

Charlotte seems to have already entered into Age Five Delightfulness. She is old enough to be independent and have preferences and chase after what she wants and likes. But she's still young enough to have none ounces of too cool, and lots of innocent curiosity still in her.

Plus, she still says some words wrong. Syrup like cereal: syriup. The bonus room is the bennis room. Eating two pieces of toast is toast-es.When she wants you to leave something where it is (a song on the radio, the PJ's she wants to wear all day, etc) she says stay it on. And actually, stay makes more sense than leave, so I get it.

She is chatty and full of stories, half the time made up and half the time completely earnest retellings of mundane events ("and then he poured the cereal but mixed it with the other cereal can you even believe that???" *cue wild hand motions*) and unlike the other two, who we naively maybe once thought were talkative, Charlotte kind of never. stops. talking.

She has two made-up friends, Apple and Sushi (I don't even know) and when no one else will play with her, she plays with them. I have never seen a child outside of a novel so committed to her imaginary friends. Or so chatty with them. She and Apple and Sushi have an army of small toys like her Daniel Tiger "toysies" figurines, and Calico Critters, and a few Paw Patrol pups, and she creates whole worlds and houses and neighborhoods for them, and will do this for hours.

Also, she has several small purses and bags and even a portable Calico house, but her preferred transportation method for her most precious toys is a pizza breadstick box. She takes it all over the house and even on playdates. (Again, I don't even know.)

She dances and skips around the house, because why walk?

She floats around the pool in her puddle jumper, because why learn to swim? (Sigh.)

She follows Nathan and Anneliese and still can't quiiiite keep up, and "hey guys wait for me!" is still a very big part of her life.

She and Anneliese play together ever better, they are both very into dolls and babies and it has been a bonding thing for them this year. It has taken years for them to seem as close to the same age as they are (less than two years! only one school year apart! it has always seemed a much bigger chasm) but I think we are finally getting there.

She still sucks her thumb (no, I do not care anymore), and she calls it her "strong thumb" because it helps her feel better. I will never argue with that. Girl's got an overbite like whoa, braces are coming, there's no more preventing it, so thumb away, little one.

I feel like Charlotte eats almost nothing, and she is somewhat wee, but she's growing, so... meh? She does like french fries and gummy snacks. And gogurt and pizza. And sandwiches but only if they're cut in certain shapes (because obviously puzzles are delicious but dinosaurs are not). She also apparently loves the arsenal of snacks she keeps sneaking into her room and then doing a terrible job of hiding the evidence from. *mad face*

She sort of fails in her own Sneaky Wheelhouse though, replying when I call upstairs to her with things like, "I don't have my scissors, you don't need to come up here!"

Um.

She loves coloring, and is still really good at fine motor type things for her age. "Can you please print me something" has basically been her motto this year, there aren't enough coloring pages in the world to sate this child.

She loves winter, the only one in our house who grins in the outdoor chill, and bundles into her coat and hat with glee. (The rest of us glare at her properly, I promise.)

She loves being read to, but has shown very little interest in trying to read on her own yet.

She thinks she is good at numbers, and shushes everyone at least once a day to tell us "plus one plus one is two" and wait for people to lavish praise on her for such genius. (The amount of eye rolling from Nathan cannot be overstated.)

She likes to pray, and is the one who leads us in prayer 99% of evenings before dinner. She has a whole medley of blessings she likes to say.

She is off to kindergarten in a month. WHAT.

She is wheezy and sunshiney and makes the best mad faces of anyone I know. She has no modesty. She cries having her hair brushed. She cheats at games and tries to charm her way out of it. She is strong and delicate at the same time. She has gobs of friends and would play with them all every day if she could. She loves people, and new people, and she's never met a stranger. She's a good listener, always ready for a story or a joke. When she's happy to see you, she quite literally jumps up and down in excitement, and it's the best feeling in the world.

She made and makes our family complete.

Happy almost five, Charlotte Booler. You won't stay five forever, but we're sure going to enjoy it while it's here, you delightful little human, you.

Boolerisms, 3 1/2

Charlotte is three and a half, and I was all ready to say what she's up to these days but first - can I just say, three looks SO MUCH BETTER on her than it did on her siblings? Three was awful with Nathan, awfuler with Anneliese, and last summer when Charlotte started showing signs of the dreaded Threenager, I was both dreading it and ready for it.

Dreading because it sucks, and ready because I'm a seasoned mom now, and I know two very important things about Age Three:

1.) It is a phase. Threeness is not an indicator of future good citizenship. She is not being ruined forever by my inability to parent her well, and anyway -

2.) IT'S HER, NOT ME. Whatever three is, it's on her. And it will pass.

Aside: my dad once told me that the best parenting advice he could really give to anyone, with kids at any age, it is this: JUST WAIT. Be patient. Almost everything passes. Even if hard things drag on for very long seasons, just keep loving them, don't give up on them or yourself, just wait. I have decided that's really good advice.) (He knows what he's talking about, he had some rough teenager years (side eye: a Certain Brother Who Shall Remain Nameless).

Anyway, after the whole IT'S HER, NOT ME mantra of dealing with little Charlotte Booler, my third three-year-old, well, it turns out... she's fine. All of those months of Brace For Impact were notsomuch needed.

I mean, she has her moments. She's had a few epic tantrums, usually when someone comes or goes out of our driveway and doesn't wave to her (side-eye: Daddy at 6am on the way to work). She is sometimes shrieky, and often slower than Christmas, both of which make me batty. But! She isn't nearly as three as the others were, or maybe she just isn't there yet, or maybe I just getting better at not internalizing threeness as a parenting failure. (I'M DOING IT. I'M BREEZY.) But whatever is happening, it's easier.

So besides being sunshine with a sometimes side of storms, the most important thing about Charlotte these days is that she is talking so much better. Speech therapy is a dream. She thinks it's fun and games, it's not social-worker-stressful for me, and it's working. She rarely stutters now, unless she's really frustrated. We no longer need to rank her days on a speech scale of 1-5, and she is full of cute opinions she can actually voice, and those adorable things that all three-year-olds say in their own funny three-year-old ways:

Instead of singing her ABC's, she sings the EFG song.
PJs are pee-tays.
Nightgowns are night downs.
Her window: my nindow!
When she has an opinion to declare: I pronounce you... not sharing!
When she's finished something she's proud of: ta-done!
When she needs something: can you help with me?
Her blanket is and remains bank-o-link.
When you ask her a question she isn't sure of: singsong voice i-ah know...?
Her life motto with two older siblings: wait fo me!
Her life fear, being left behind: don' weeve me!

She told me recently that she saw a bear in the backyard. A bear! (There is a Bumgarner family legend about my brother seeing a bear in the hall; it was a mouse.) I have no idea what Charlotte really saw. But she told me in all earnestness that it was a bear, and answered detailed questions about it, and opted to play inside after that in case it came back, and all I could do was clap proudly and say EXCELLENT TALKING, BABY BOOLER.

Speaking of imagination, she and I told a story today, doing that thing you do with your kids where you take turns telling one part at a time, making it up as we go. And it turned out to be about a mom who can climb trees, and in the backyard she found a house of fairy ballerinas in a tiny treetop house. Their favorite food is strawberry spaghetti, and their favorite thing to do is to dance on top of the water in the pool when no one is looking.

She should write a book, is what I'm saying.

She told me last week she was "beautiful like mommy" and then my heart
burst into a million tiny hearts and flew all around in a happy cloud, forever.

Here is Charlotte telling us she's three and a half.

She is eating a cupcake that we picked out at the grocery store for her. We decided if a Booler was ever made into a cartoon character, it might look something like that cupcake.

Awkward Sibling Pic, v. 11

Well, my kids have (mostly) figured out that the gabbles go on your eyes, not above them. And have (mostly) figured out that no one calls them gabbles but our family.

This is a framer, yes?

The Booler, Two and a Half

Charlotte is two and a half!

I keep doing that thing where I compare her age to the other kids' ages when we were doing X or Y or Z in years past, and it keeps blowing my mind. Like, Charlotte is now a year OLDER (a year! older!) than Anneliese was when we were renovating this house and moving in. She is now older, by many months, than Nathan or Anneliese were when they became big siblings. (Yet, Charlotte is still somehow the baby whom I carry around, a lot. Hmmm.)

We had her preschool conference a few weeks ago, and I was all ready to write a fighty post about how she is FINE and even though she seems a stitch baby-like compared to some other kids her age, we are FINE and she is FINE -- and I have several theories about why that could be, but mostly it boils down to her being a relatively shy kid, with relatively babyish hair, and she doesn't have a ton to say in big groups, and she is FINE. I don't want to write that whole post.

I do need to say, post-conference, for myself and for the record, that she totally and most definitely does talk in short sentences, saying things like this below, all the time constantly over the course of every day (not that I am counting or making a mental note or anything because hoo boy that makes me look more defensive than I like to think I am, but here goes anyway):
1.) Mommy look! (wook)
2.) I come too!
3.) I'm hungry.
4.) Daddy's at work.
5.) It's Nathan's bus.
6.) I see a puppy!
7.) I want oatmeal.
8.) It's my blocks!
9.) It's my Daniel!
10.) It's myyyyyyyyy!!!! (x1000)
11.) Bowden's barking.
12.) That's too loud.
13.) I go to school.
14.) Mommy please help you?
15.) I did it! All by self!
16.) I fall down! I'm okay!
17.) That's mommy's phone.
18.) Anneliese is going potty.
19.) It's a house. And a car!
20.) I found it! (also x1000)

Ummm actually just by reading those sentences you can get an idea of what it is like to hang out with Charlotte every day, actually.

She is sweet and funny and tiny and gentle and very much our baby, which I'm sure Mark and I perpetuate, Nathan and Anneliese too for that matter. But she is increasingly brave, and increasingly more insistent on doing what the big kids do. She does not want to be left out. If they are outside, she wants to be there too. Or playing legos or painting or watching a movie or any of the other myriad things we have tended to let them do while Charlotte does her baby things (like take a nap), and she is over that pattern. Over it. So she toddles after them, trying to keep up, and then after a spell she gives up and crawls back into our laps, or lies on the floor talking to her toysies, or hugging her blanket (bank-o-link, she calls it), and we smile because that place between toddler and kid is just kind of delightful. (Until she is three. Three is looming. I will not be scared, I will not be scared. For now, absofreakinglutely DELIGHTFUL.)

Last week she brought me this cape, wanting me to put it on her, and she asked to "be super?" -- in case you were wondering what I mean by delightful.

Oh! And she finally knows her actual name (shah-laht!) and doesn't insist it is Night-night, so there is also that.

Happy half birthday,Charlotte Booler!

A is for Almost Four

This little girl who four years ago right now was still comfortably hanging out inside me, mocking any pretense of a due date, is now suddenly not a baby, and not a toddler, but a kid. See?

Well, I shouldn't say suddenly. Anneliese has seemed... old (?) for some time now. Articulate, outgoing, tall enough to tower over the other kids in her class. I have been asked more often in the last few months if she and Nathan are twins than any other time so far in their lives. (Still hard for me to remember she is actually closer to Charlotte's age than Nathan's. Weird.)

Anyway, she is growing up. And instead of feeling all sappy and sad about the passage of time, I am sitting here feeling soaring happy thoughts about her. The exhausting horrible season of defiance and toddler frustration is really and truly over. She still has naughty maddening days, because hello, she's three, and they are just days. And in the middle of that she is downright delightful.

She loves dress-up and dancing and she sings pretty much constantly. To the radio, in church, when someone else is singing, when she knows the words and when she doesn't. The girl knows how to make a joyful noise.

She is bright and speaks well, but hasn't quite shaken the toddler habit of not getting words quiiiite right: Firefighters are fighter-fighters. Backpacks are still pack-packs. Our current season is falling.

She has been looking forward to her birthday for months. Mostly since Nathan's and Charlotte's at the end of the summer, but also kind of since her last birthday. She really loves birthdays. Like really really loves them. More than anyone I have ever known except her Aunt Ashley. She told me last week in the grocery store, in her most serious voice, I am just so excited for my birthday I can't even believe it. And then proceeded to sing her way through the rest of our errands, I love birthdays, I love birthdays, in some made-up tune because that's just... what she does. Sometimes I forget to appreciate how adorable she is because I am so used to it.

Also, clearly, she remains the best shopping buddy I have ever given birth to.

She isn't doing much (any) reading or writing yet, but she is starting to recognize letters. With every A she encounters, she proudly proclaims A is for me! Yes, they are. Every single A for you, baby girl.

So, yeah. She is pretty great these days. Still sometimes a pain in the butt, but a pain made of glitter rainbows, so we will take it.

And while I don't feel terribly sad about the passing of time as she hits another year older, I am, predictably, full of sweet and sappy thoughts about her birth and newborn days. A daughter! I had wanted a daughter so badly! And then I had one, I had her! My daughter! And four years later she is this awesome funny silly bright little person, and she is our person, our Beanie, our Anneliese, and good grief do we love her.

Charlotte at Almost Two

Y'all. Can we talk about Charlotte for a second? I want to. I need to.

I won't have pictures to add to this or be able to post it til I get home, but tomorrow is her due date, Charlotte day, August 1st, bo time! as we were ready to call it back in 2011. Now I am sitting on a quiet porch at Montreat, watching a waterfall (well, a dam), glad for a free afternoon of sabbath rest from an insanely busy week, really glad to be here -- full of heart feelings and the holy spirit and a peaceful view to boot...

...but I miss my sweet Charlotte like there is a hole in my chest.

I miss both girls, of course, and Marky, and Bowden, but today the thought of Charlotte's toothy grin and a mouth-open slobber kiss just makes me ache.

So I am going to blather on about her for a hot minute, yes I am.

In the past year Charlotte has gone from our sweet slow tiny delicate flower to a running jumping dancing grinning laughing silly little girl. She is still sweet. She is still tiny. She is still kind of a delicate flower. But thriving in her delicacy.

She is still timid around strangers, but no longer panicky. She greets people with a wave and kiss blowing and a grin. Full of teeth. That girl has a grin for days. FOR DAYS. She will copy anything Nathan and Anneliese do, and eats up their praise. She is picky about what she wears and her biggest tantrums so far involve us putting something on her that she doesn't approve of. (Her approval is exactly as predictable as you would think it is. She's almost two. That's to say, not predictable.)

She isn't a big eater but she loves yogurt and bananas and nutri-grain bars, unless she doesn't. (Again, almost two.) She sleeps every night with a menagerie of toys and animals and books, but is most loyal to Sheep and Sunny Puppy. She loves blocks and buildings and will habitually stack up any group of toys she encounters. She calls her siblings Lee-Lee and Nay-Nay and I hope she never outgrows it. They are her very favorite people.

She is quirky: Scampering to the window to wave at the car of someone who is physically standing right by her. Running a crazy run that involves one (just one) of her arms swinging by her side. Sporting the most incredible bed head where her wispy hair sticks out in front of her face like a visor, because apparently she sleeps on her face. (?) Oh and she's still wearing that winter hat in any and all weather.

She is obsessed with shoes. Never in the history of children or shoes has any child ever asked for shoes to be taken on or off more times in one day, every day, than Charlotte. Ever. If they're off, she wants them on. If they're on, she wants them off. And if she's satisfied with their current status, she's still talking about them. Syoo? Syoo? I hear it my dreams.

She calls milk how. Yeah I don't even know.

She still insists her name is Night-Night.

And in three short (long) days she will be hugging me and saying Mommy and my arms will be full of her wispy hair and sweet smell.

Happy almost two, little Booler.

My Middlest Baby, at Half And a Three

I have started to write this post for months now, y'all. MONTHS. Like, since November.

Because I want to fill you in with what's going on with Anneliese, and tell you yay! she's three! a new chapter! It's getting better! We're back in our groove!

And most days, I believe that.

But then we have a day or a week when everything is horrible and exhausting and I am worried I am damaging her forever by my inability to parent her well, and YEAH, those days are not good. Those days make me hate myself, if I'm being honest. Heavy but true. On those days, she tries my every nerve and ounce of patience. I am not proud, but it is hard. Those days are so so hard.

(I'm not having one of those days now, so I can say in this moment that indeed they are just days. "It's just one day! A bad day! It won't determine her forever future!" Or so Another Nathan tells me ad nauseum. But when I am having one of those days, I really do believe that the bad day is my whole life and even though it sounds melodramatic and exaggerated, I know at least twelve of you are out there nodding in agreement, because it is a real thing. Anyway. Today is not one of those days.)

Do y'all read Modg? (You should.) Here's what she says about her son: "he is what the hippies call spirited. He's what I call a temporary pain in my ass. I love my ass pain more than glitter rainbows, but it doesn't make it hurt my ass any less right now."

Yes, that. THAT. Anneliese is a glitter rainbow pain in my ass.

The pain part comes with her age (I need to keep telling myself this). But the glitter rainbow? That's all her.

She sings along to the radio until she's tired of singing and just wants to listen, and asks for the "plassical" songs, which (according to her) is always a trumpet because of course it's... a trumpet. When it's not loud enough, she asks to turn it a little bit upper.

She calls panties unders. She calls ketchup chetchup, and no one better correct her. When she wants to know what someone else is eating (which is all the time, the world does not snack unless Anneliese snacks with them) she asks what're you chewin' on?

She invented maybe the world's next best word: forleft. Like forgetting something not that you do, but forgot a thing. You forgot it, and left it, you forleft it. (She's a genius, is what I'm saying. Feel free to add this to your everyday lexicon. We have.)

When Nathan finally convinced her to pronounce it three instead of free, she started correcting everyone else who happens to say the word free WHICH IS ALSO A WORD, ANNELIESE. No. Nope. "You say it three, Daddy, hear this: tthhhhreeee."

She calls velcro becker-o, as in she needs to becker-o her shoes, or she needs my help to becker-o her baby doll's PJ's back onto the baby doll. (Infinity times.) (After bedtime.) (I digress.)

When we talk about our family, she loves to tell me that Nathan is the oldest baby, and Charlotte is the youngest baby, and that she is the middlest baby. Yes, Anneliese. Yes you are. The very middlest.

And for the pot of gold at the end of the glitter rainbow, she has proclaimed today that she is half and a three years old. HALF AND A THREE. I tell you in all seriousness: nothing has ever been cuter than that, in the history of things and cuteness.

To celebrate her half-birthday, I took her to get a pedicure with me. (She called it the paint store, because everything she is doing today is adorable, apparently.) She picked the color (hot pink) (obvs) and we got matching toes. She got some polka dots too.

She was an angel and grinned the whole time and had the grandmotherly nail ladies fawning over her. I cannot imagine a better $7 date with a preschooler than some professional toenail painting (well, I got a real pedi. whatevs). But it's one of the sweetest things I have ever done with her, honestly.

So right now I am totally believing that whole turned a corner thing. Pain in the ass glitter rainbow, now with toenail polka dots.

Merry Christmas Even!

December 24th and Anneliese woke up insisting that it's Christmas Even. No one better correct her, got it?

Church and chasing eye meds and last-minute wrapping and a quick grocery run and stockings stuffed and Nathan singing in choir and playing Santa and Christmas PJs and candlelight worship and so many bells ringing. Just your classic Christmas Eve in these parts.

Merry Christmas Even!

Different Day, Same Dada

You know how there's always that kid who's a total ham in real life, smiling and giggling and chattering away, and then when the camera is on, the kid clams up and gets boring and quiet? Nathan was definitely that kid. Anneliese is sometimes that kid.

Charlotte is not that kid.

Every time Mark pulls out the camera, she is full of grins and squeals and DA DA!!

(What? I'm not jealous. Not me.)

Someday we will get her other two words on video (hi! -- well, ha like a good southern gal -- and nuh nuh which either means Nathan or Anneliese but definitely not mommy *sigh*) but it didn't happen today.  So for now, enjoy more of the same baby on the same floor saying the same word, in an even more delightful manner.

(And if you're over hearing her say dada, just watch how her beautiful eyes sparkle when she's happy. Worth the price of the camera alone.)


(If you can't see the video above, click here to watch it on YouTube.)

And with this redundant video, this is officially the mommyest mommyblogger post I have ever done.

Charlotte at Nine Months

Charlotte is nine months old today!

And, coincidentally, based on careful calendar-counting of 41 weeks gestation (minus the two "pregnant" weeks before she was actually in there), plus 41 weeks and a day since she was born... it's also her inside-out day!

That means she's officially been out here in the world longer than she was inside me.

WHAT.

(Cue predictable commentary about the impossibility of this, because her pregnancy was clearly forrrrrevvvvverrrr long, and also wasn't she born like ten minutes ago?)

signature gap-tooth grin

The best way I can describe Charlotte at nine months is on the verge.

On the verge of talking. We hear dada with some regularity, and once I swear I heard a mama but considering it hasn't happened since, I'm finally conceding it was an accident. We hear a ha! every time we see her or greet her, which we're pretty sure is hi. And in case anyone wasn't sure how to melt Mark's heart, a gap-toothed beautiful baby girl flailing her arms saying ha dada! will totally do it. True story.

On the verge of sitting. She's oh so close. If she's really in the mood she can hold herself up for a few seconds, but never long enough yet to get a picture. I give it a few weeks. Well, nine months and a few weeks. She's following in her siblings' delayed-gross-motor footsteps after all. But that's a post for another day. For now, she's less behind than they were (we think?) and the important thing is she is on the verge of sitting! As all mommies can attest, a whole world of photographable moments will come when this finally happens.

playing in big sister's room

On the verge of a growth spurt. We haven't had her nine month checkup yet, so we don't know if she's actually gained much since starting solids a few weeks ago, but to our eyes (the ones that matter), she is losing some of the lanky skinniness that has defined her for the last few months, and she's finally starting to fill out a little. Anyway she eats incredibly well (and incredibly much). I can feel the growth spurt coming.

On the verge of weaning. This one brings mixed feelings, so I don't want to write too much about it.  But now that Charlotte has food, she doesn't care as much about the boob. Sad but true. She still nurses 3-4 times a day, but it takes an effort to keep her focused on feeding instead of whatever her brother and sister are doing, or whoever else might be in the room talking. It's the opposite of Nathan and Anneliese who both resisted food somewhat (Nathan especially) (story of his life now that I think about it) in favor of nursing. With Charlotte, I'm going to keep going as long as I can, but I don't know if she'll even last the year I was hoping for, and almost certainly not longer.

On the verge of real personality (and by personality I mean opinions). In the past week or so, she has started to balk when we strap her in her car seat, put her in her crib before she's ready (oh baby girl, you will learn I don't care; it's naptime), or replace a toy she's holding with something safer (like an actual toy). She is starting to expect us to pick things up when she drops (read: throws) them. And she's just learning that if she giggles she will get all the attention. I sense a stirring of personality that is about to explode onto the scene. Brace yourself.  And stay tuned.

Yay for nine months, baby girl! I love you even more now than I did the day I found out you were in me (and believe me, that was already a lot). Happy inside out, little Charlotte.

Charlotte's First Word: Dada

Well folks, it happened again. Charlotte has said her first word, and despite my insistence that no, it isn't her first word because her first word was going to be mama... it's indeed dada.

She doesn't seem to know what it means, but she says it, she repeats it, she says it on command.  I can't argue that. Mark is three for three on first words. Dada wins again.

If you can't see the embedded video, click here to watch it on YouTube.

I guess I'll love her anyway. ;)

Congrats on a big milestone, sweet Charlotte!

Llama Alpaca

Last week I saw a picture of a llama on twitter.  It made me laugh.  Nathan asked why I was laughing. So I showed him the llama picture.

Did he think it was funny too?  I don't know.  I'll never know, because he instead chose to respond with...

(wait for it)

...but that's not a llama, that's an alpaca.

I don't... I can't... um, whaaa? Did that sentence really just fall out of your mouth? Well excuuuuuse me.

Hey, Mom? Dad? I hereby offer a sincere apology for all of those moments in my childhood when I ruined a perfectly good moment by being a know-it-all. I repent in sackcloth and ashes.

(And after a very thorough google image search, I still don't know what the eff this "llama" is.  Maybe a llama.  Maybe an alpaca.  Maybe a camel. Someone enlighten me.  Someone who is not four, please.)

Annelieseisms at Almost Two

I can't believe Anneliese is almost two.  Two.  Where did the last year go?

A year ago today, she was still a baby.  (Look at this picture if you don't believe me.)  And two years ago today, she was still gestating (another picture). Whoa.

And now...

Well now she is a walking talking bundle of joyful energy.  Our easygoing friendly (yet also messy and destructive) sweet toddler.  She's loud and affectionate and opinionated and wonderful.

A few of our favorite Annelieseisms will give you a glimpse of what life is like with her these days....

Haaaah Mom! (Hi, Mom!) Said at the top of her lungs anytime she enters a room and needs to greet someone. Even if it's only been four minutes since she saw us last.

Hankoo Daddy. (Thank you, Daddy.) She is sweet and appreciative of anything anyone does for her.  Hand her those legos? Thank you.  Fix her shoes? Thank you. Wipe her butt? Thank you.  Yes, seriously. 

Gee-go. (Here you go.) Said when she hands us anything.  Something we asked for, or, you know... whatever trash or dirt she picks up off the ground.  Whatevs.

Poh-puw. (Purple.) Her answer to any question about what color something is.  Subsequent guesses frequently include boo, geen, wed, wonj, ey-oh, and boun. That's clear, yes?

WON-uh! (Run!) Shouted before she races across a room. (She's at that age where she has to narrate everything she does, as she does it.) These races are best when they end in a huge hug.

Happo-uh book. (Hippo book). Which she asks to have in bed with her at every naptime and bedtime. She also asks for her pig book, and one of about four puppy books. Or all of them. Girl loves her some animal reading.

Puppy hurt. (Puppy shirt.)  Her favorite thing to wear these days, except for some boo dess she keeps asking about.  (We own no such blue dress.) (?)

Nay-nay gihn. (Nathan again.) Asked on repeated loop all morning, every morning, when he is at school and she is missing him.

Poo pees. (Pool please.)  She asks to swim every day after nap. (Even though we haven't been swimming in a good month.) Not to be confused with poopeee pees which means she has to poop. Sometimes they sound alike.  On those days, we miss the potty and change diapers. *sigh*

Baby hyatt. (Baby Charlotte.)  This pronunciation is much better than the first attempts, which sounded like a bad four-letter word. Use your imagination.

Baby ky-een. (Baby crying.)  Proclaimed with authority whenever Charlotte fusses.  You can imagine she gets a lot of mileage out of this one. Alternate version: mommy ky-een. She gets more mileage out of that one than I'd like too, unfortunately.

Moh moke pees. (More milk please.) She loves eats almost anything we put in front of her, and usually asks for seconds. (When it comes to food, she is everything Nathan isn't.) She's especially keen on her big girl cup.  With a friend car on it. And no lid!

Hattie biss. (Hattie kiss.) She is quite affectionate with her animals, especially Hattie.  And the new purple clownfish Daddy brought back from Florida is a big hit too. Poh-puw fiss!

Bee kuck. (Big truck.) If we hear this in the monitor from her room, we know she's climbed into her recliner and is peering over the back out the window because she heard a truck.  (Frequent, because the construction on our street still will not end.)

Way it. (Wear it.) Demanded when she brings us whatever wardrobe choices she's pulled that day from her dresser.  Or her hamper.  Or our dirty clothes pile.  (Stay classy, Anneliese.)

Ees, ees! (Anneliese! Anneliese!) Shouted when one of us is about to do something for her that she wants to try on her own.  This is her 2-year old way of saying bug off, I can do it myself!!

Okah mom. (Okay mom.) Her sometimes dejected response whenever I she has to do something she's not thrilled about, and tell her say okay, mommy.

Pie now. (Play now.) This is Anneliese's equivalent of "all done."  We hear it when she's over whatever else is going on.

Hoo-uh, docks, ants. (Shoes, socks, pants.) Her other words for her clothes. She's learning to be as picky as Nathan is about what she wears. And she's no longer always taking cues from her big brother stylist either.

Dis! Dis! (This! This!) What she resorts to yelling when she's trying to tell us something but doesn't know the word.  Helpful, no?

I know it will only be a matter of months before she's speaking more clearly, and people besides Mark and me will be able to understand her.  But for now, this is so so cute.  She's still my tiny toddler for just a little longer.  Trying not to think about her turning two in less than a week.

Someone out there knows how to stop time, right?  Say, okay mommy.

Hungry Girl

When Anneliese is hungry, normally we hear a chorus of gung, gung, gung (which for at least six months we thought was go, but... no). She's moany and repetitive and single-minded when it comes to mealtime.  Sometimes she resorts to banging on her high chair in case we didn't get the message.

Your daily Anneliese

Last week, even after we got her up there, I was still having trouble making dinner happen very quickly.  She finally gave up on me and settled for Hattie and her thumb while she resigned herself to waiting patiently.

It lasted maybe a minute and a half.

Gung!  Gung!  Mommeeeeee!  Gung.

Yale (Not Scream)

Our friend Mary brought this shirt back for Nathan after she spent a good bit of last summer at Yale (she's smart like that).  Nathan looks adorably collegiate and scholarly in it, don't you think?  Like such a smarty boy. 

If you think so, it's only because you can't hear him talking about it. 

Your daily Nathan: with a sweet southern accent

Turns out our sweet little genius baby can't say Yale.  He can say... yell.  No matter how many times we try to get him to say it, and how many words we try to get him to rhyme it with (say tail like what's on your tiger, say mail like your mail truck, say whale like in your book, say yay like you're happy), it still mostly just comes out yell. 

At one point when I asked him what his shirt says, he replied matter-of-factly, Yell. Not scream. It's not nice to scream. Is that a little bit naughty?

{sigh}

We're officially giving up.  He can call it whatever he wants.  He's clearly not going to school there anyway.  :)

Nathanisms

A few of Nathan's most oft-used phrases at 3 1/2 years old:

1.) "Too chunky" - used to describe something he doesn't like.  Smooth is good, chunky is bad (this started out as yogurt pickiness and now transcends to all areas of life).  Example: I don't want to read that book tonight, it's too chunky.

2.) "It's safe" - used to describe things he's scared of or is worried are decidedly unsafe (repeating what he's heard us say to him in those situations).  Examples: That's a daddy gorilla, he's safe. Or, are we going down the slide?  It's safe.

3.) "No mommy talk about it" - used when I try to engage him in a conversation he'd rather be having with someone else (like Daddy).  Note: almost always used in a freakout voice.  Another note: reserved for avoiding conversations with just Mommy.  No Daddy talk about it is not an existing or valid phrase in the Nathan lexicon.

4.) "That's not my favorite" - another way to describe something he doesn't like (he might or might not have picked this up from Mark, who uses this phrase to describe food he never ever wants me to cook again).  Examples: I don't want to stay in the car, staying in the car's not my favorite.  Or, I don't want to poop in the potty, pooping in the potty's not my favorite.  Note: favorite is actually pronounced fravrite.  In all circumstances.

5.) "Yesorno?" - used to quiz adults on questions to which he already perfectly well knows the answers.  Examples: Is that a semi truck, yesorno? Or, is this our house, yesorno? Or, is Anneliese a sister, yesorno?  Note: this questions come in rapid-fire succession.

6.) "Do you understand?!" - asked of Mark or me, after long and complicated stutter-filled explanations, usually about which cars are friends with which, and why.  Example: Duke is an engine and Toby is a coal car, and... is.... Thomas is... and Lightning McQueen with Mater.... they're friends with The Luigi and... is... is Guido a forklift, yesorno?  Mommy!  **Do you understand?!** ...Um, sure.

7.) "Not you yet!!" - used at the tops and bottoms of staircases to indicate that Nathan wants to go first while we get to stand around, usually with a heavy almost-toddler in our arms, and watch him ascend or descend in all his perpetual slowness.  Note: almost always said in a freakout voice.

8.) "What kind of..." - used to get us to keep talking to him and stall whatever it is he's supposed to be doing.  Example: I tell him to eat his cereal and clear his bowl, and responds with, What *kind* of bowl?  What *kind* of cereal is it?  Note: this line of questioning can usually be appeased with a color.  Brown cereal in a green bowl.

9.) "Just because" - used when he is tired of my reverse-psychology why questioning* and he doesn't feel like explaining anymore.  Note: apparently he's allowed to use this but we're not; if we say it, he responds with "just because" is not my favorite.

10.) "I need something to..." - Nathan's way of coming up with a "good" reason he needs a particular toy.  If he wants to play with a car, it's I need something to drive (already well-documented).  If he wants his lego keychain that lights up, it's I need something to flash.  Of course.

*Yes I totally do that.

Mom & Dad

Sometimes my baby boy is so clearly still my sweet angelic baby boy.

Other times (like this weekend), he is a terror and I can't believe how well he manages to convince everyone around him that he's a shy easygoing flexible child when he is so clearly something the complete opposite of that.  Grrrrrr.  Ok that's just this weekend talking.  And it's a gripe session for another day (and another medium).

For here and for today, I'll say this:  he seems too big, not because of the naughtiness, and not even because of the can-be exciting parts of growing up -- his articulateness, his protectiveness of his family, his increasing need and desire for independence.

Today it's because we've become Mom and Dad.  Mama and Dada are long gone, left somewhere before he turned one.  And now Mommy and Daddy are on the outs too, apparently... reserved for moments of sickness or whining.

Mom and Dad.

How are we here already?

Nay-Nay

When Mark and Nathan got home from Clemson last weekend, Anneliese was pretty much giddy to see them.  Legs kicking, arms waving, huge grins.... and a steady stream of nay-nay-nay-nay-nay waiting for her big brother. 

(And no, you may not call him Nay-nay.  The only person who can say it without making me cringe is Anneliese.  Period. End of discussion.)

Here's the promised video footage:

If you can't see the embedded video, click here to watch it on youtube.

Anneliese had said nay-nay once or twice over the last few weeks, but it wasn't until last Sunday afternoon that we knew for sure she was trying to say Nathan's name.  And apparently that day opened the floodgate.  It's been constant since then.  And Nathan loves hearing it.

On the way home from school today, Anneliese kept reaching for Nathan's fingers and saying Nay-nay, and he would reach back and laugh.  Which made her laugh.  Which made him laugh more.  So basically it was fifteen minutes of Nay-nay... descending into giggles from the two sweetest voices I know.

It made me so happy I almost cried.

Eleven Months: Almost 1!

Anneliese is eleven months old today.  This is the last time I get to count her age in months.  (Except in mommy circles.  Mommies can think in months when no one else can.  Mommies can also think in weeks -- up to forty, anyway -- when no one else can.  True story.)  I can't believe my little baby girl is almost one.  Wasn't she born like a few days ago or something?

A year ago this week, I was getting ready for a mommy-daughter baby shower, watching Mark assemble a tandem stroller (you know, for our two babies), taking a tour of the birthing unit where Beanie would be born (a trip which ended with me overwhelmed and sobbing in the hospital parking deck), and starting a little guess-the-birth-date contest (which thirty-eight of you participated in, and none of you guessed the right date). 

And now that baby we were getting ready for is almost one.

This month, Anneliese has:

- weaned herself down to one nursing a day, which broke my heart for a few minutes (or weeks, who's counting) until I realized she's still voraciously interested in that morning feeding, and is therefore definitely not done with the breastfeeding relationship... which means she'll still feel like a baby to me for at least a little while longer.

- taken two road trips (a day trip to the beach, and a weekend in Huntersville) and slept like a champ on both of them.

- finally gotten her top two teeth in (after getting the two bottom ones really early, before five months).

- perfected her backwards sit-scoot around the house -- as you can see, she's quite pleased with herself about it.

- had gleeful fun emptying the toy and clothing bins in her room, and the dvd rack in the living room.

- started saying boo when we play peek-a-boo with her, and started saying ball and hey more consistently.  Also, new yesterday!  She is emphatically (almost frantically) saying nay-nay-nay-nay when she sees Nathan.  So precious.  (Still not as awesome as mama, but it's a very cute second.)  Video forthcoming; stay tuned (try not to fall of the edge of your seats).

- gotten herself down to one nap a day (I might or might not have (brace yourself: euphemism alert) "encouraged" this, to get both kids on the same nap schedule... which has now finally happened, praise the Lord).

- eaten lots and lots of "grownup" meals, when I toss our leftover dinners (as well as any miscellaneous produce we have left in our farm share box) in the food processor to freeze in jars (Merritt's pizza casserole is one of her favorites) -- yes, it looks completely gross, but she eats it great, poops it great, and she's growing well... plus it saves me lots of money over store-bought baby food.

- gotten very good at picking up puffs and cheerios (and small chunks of canned pears) and feeding them to herself.

- put on over a pound of weight -- she's now just over 17 lbs (7th percentile) and 31 inches long (off-the-charts tall), and we're so thankful her weight is now going up instead of down.

- stayed the prettiest almost-one-year old I know, and made her family and friends smile every day.

We love you, Anneliese!  Happy eleven months, sweetie!

Mama

It's not new, just new to video. And it's still the sweetest sound in the world.


(If you can't see the embedded video, click here to watch it on youtube.)