Size is Relative (posted 5/9/2009)

Now that Katy Rose is talking and jabbering away at almost any opportunity, she has really shown her imagination with everyday objects.  From tipping her Little People giraffes upside down and using them to serve "coffee" to Grandma, to making her toys interact with each other, there is truly no limit to a child's mind.  

A friend said that her four-year-old son thinks she is 100 years old and 40 inches tall, according to his Mother's Day letter that they helped him create in preschool.  Another said her child thought she weighed 8 lbs.  Some children think their mom is 22, or 35, when actually she's in between... I wonder what Katy will say about me in another year or two?

I think I've mentioned the Mommy Pooh before in this blog.  The Mommy Pooh is the Classic Pooh that my friend, Amy, sent to her before she was born.  It is the Pooh I used to place next to her in photos each month of her first year to document her growth in a tangible way.  Other than the really big Pooh that is now up on the shelf, this Pooh is her largest.  

Another Pooh she has is also "Classic" and is actually a pull-string that plays a music box tune.  One day she started using the musical Pooh, which is small, to call out "Mommy, Mommy!" to the larger Pooh.  I learned that the large one is the Mommy Pooh, and the musical one is the baby Pooh.  Then she grabbed another Pooh that is medium-sized and referred to it as Daddy Pooh.

I could easily take offense at the thought that she thinks I'm the largest person in the family... even if it's (temporarily) true, I doubt any mom wants to be known as bigger than daddy.  But then I decided to reframe this: I am the biggest PRIORITY in her life... hee hee hee.  One of my old nicknames was The Queen of Rationalization.  Also, Queen of the Dorks.  But I digress...

Since then, whenever Katy has three items that are the same, only different sizes, she identifies them.  The littlest is always Katy Rose (pronounced Kayee Wose).  Then the largest one takes turns being Mommy or Daddy.  So I guess that kinda blows my idea out of the water.  But you know what, there isn't a whole lot that is cuter than Katy creating walking, talking "people" out of the pieces of a slice of cheese.  Yes, indeed, I have seen myself impersonated in pieces of food.  And I have been made to converse with a sippy cup calling out for me.  The most common thing that the sippy cup and other inanimate objects say to me when they get my attention: "Mommy! Mommy! Wah-u dooeen?"  So I could be myself, a piece of cheese, or a stuffed Poohbear.  Personally, I believe all three of those things are pretty wonderful.  I guess it's all relative.

Monkeys (posted 5/4/2009)

Thanks to free ticket vouchers through Mike's company, we set out on yet another incredibly exciting adventure yesterday--taking Katy Rose to see Sesame Street Live.  The show was called "Elmo's Green Thumb" and was a really cute show about Elmo's potted sunflower friend named Sunny and the adventure involved in transplanting Sunny into the ground.  Believe me, it was quite an adventure, complete with nearly every non-human Sesame Street character from Oscar to the Count, Cookie Monster, Telly, Grover... even Prairie Dawn, the girl puppet with blond hair.

We went with our sister-in-law, Siobhan, and her daughter, Ceilli.  (Sounds like Shuh-von and Kaylee.)  I thought it was a really great show, with tons of songs and a fantastic set.  The show was entertaining, the costumes were amazing, and so was the choreography and dancers.  I was highly impressed, even more than I was at Disney on Ice.  Katy Rose, who happens to be a huge Elmo fan, had a great time too.  She sat on my lap again, but this time it was because the booster seats that would have enabled her to sit in her own seat without it folding up ran out 20 minutes before the show even started.  But it was just as well, because she definitely had a better view from my lap.

After the show had ended, the five of us went out for pizza and ice cream.  We had a yummy Napoli pizza from zpizza, my favorite.  Then we went next door to The Pink Spot and had ice cream.  Katy Rose had a scoop of a low fat, no sugar added black cherry (which was actually quite delicious).  I had a double scoop of vanilla and kona coffee, with some Oreo crumbles on top.  Mike had a sundae with vanilla and strawberry ice creams, Siobhan had a sundae that had a brownie in it and looked amazing, and Ceilli had a scoop of cotton candy ice cream.  It kind of looked like an ice cream version of My Little Pony colors.

Katy Rose and Ceilli quickly found the game corner and pulled out some toys to play with.  One of the toys was a barrel of monkeys... I never had one as a kid, but I know what they are because of Toy Story.  (Sad, I know.)  They also hauled out some pieces from the game Cootie, which I did have as a kid and it was actually one of my favorites.  Between manipulating that spoon for some cherry goodness and making those monkeys oo ooh ah aah in the corner of the ice cream shop, Katy was thoroughly entertained.

As we were getting back in the car to go home, I said to Katy, "Wow, we did a lot today.  Did you have fun today?"  I got a one-word answer.  "Monkeys!"  Enough said.

Think Heavy Thoughts (posted 4/30/2009)

I am a proud blood donor.  Ever since I was in high school and they started having an occasional blood drive at the school, I have wanted to be a blood donor.  Back then, my problem was that I had to wait until I was 17, because that didn’t happen until November of my senior year.  But when they did have a drive, and I was finally old enough, I was super happy to be able to do it.  I had never had bloodwork done before, so it was definitely a new experience.  And I am really drawing a blank as to why I wanted to do it so badly.  Most people run from needles, right?  My best guess is that it was the closest I could get to a super-rebellious act that involves needles—getting a tattoo.




Those of you that did not know me back then may not realize what a crazy, rebellious teen I was.  Despite my mom’s best efforts to corral me into what I considered a boring, “preppy” doom, I did anything I could (within reason, of course) to defy her wishes and take off in a different direction.  The majority of my unruly behavior came in terms of fashion (and believe me, I use that term extremely loosely). 




In high school I embraced two, widely varying, directions when it came to my clothes and shoes.  The first could be easily guessed—we’re talking about the early ‘90’s here.  Yes, I’m talking grunge.  I had a collection of flannel shirts, starting with one of my dad’s old plaids that he used to wear for working around the house.  It was nearly threadbare in places and had paint spills here and there.  I still have it though.  I loved it so much I wore it in my first driver license photo. 




Along with my plaid flannels came pretty much anything else plaid, including shoes.  The plaid thing is two-fold.  One, I just love plaid.  Can’t explain why.  Two, one of my very favorite bands in the ‘90’s was a punk-rock-ska band called The Mighty Mighty Bosstones, and they were all about plaid.  In fact, one of their songs is called, “Bad in Plaid,” and there is a lyric that I think sums it up: “Plaid is the color of my soul…” 




So back to shoes…I fell in love with Converse Chuck Taylor All-Star sneakers.  I had a black-and-white-checked pair of low-tops that I got for my 16^th birthday.  I wore those things out!  Later, I also got two pairs of high-tops: one that is solid purple, the other mainly black with maroon and white racing stripes.  Oh yeah, gotta love the chucks.




Speaking of shoes, when I was fifteen, my mom was president of the National Organization of Mothers of Twins Clubs, Inc. (NOMOTC).  The annual NOMOTC convention happens in a different city each year, and it is where the officer elections are held.  The summer I was fifteen, the convention was held in New Orleans.  We didn’t usually go with Mom, but since she was president, we were all going.  Literally two days beforehand, I managed to get to Abbadabba’s in Atlanta to buy the shoes I had been saving for.  I bought a pair of Kelly green 3-hole Doc Marten’s.  They were on sale, and I paid $87 for them, which was a steal at the time.  I LOVED those shoes, maybe even a little more than my chucks!  When we were in New Orleans, I dragged my dad all over the French Quarter and broke those shoes in but good.  Ah, my lovely Docs.  Yes, they’re still in my closet too.




The other side of my fashion statement could best be described as an early version of green chic… in other words, kinda earthy, like a hippie.  I became a fan of the Grateful Dead, and attended my first concert at the age of fifteen.  We went to see the Dead with my best friend, her dad, and another friend.  The next year, we went again (minus the dad)… and I showed up to school the next day wearing the T-shirt I bought at the show… which reeked of smoke from the show.  But I had to be That Girl.  [Tangent Alert!]  Just before graduation I learned that a lot of people assumed I was a pothead, which I wasn’t.  Hadn’t even seen pot except when the ex-con across the street pulled it out of his boot one time.  But that’s a story for another day.  I also learned that a lot of other people didn’t believe I was a pothead, but they did think I was a smoker.  This, unfortunately, was true… I was a smoker for a long time, which is a sad thing.  I smoked from age 15-27.  There were a few semi-successful quits in there, but I wasn’t able to put that addiction to bed until January 16, 2005.  But at the time I celebrated to myself that people didn’t know what to think about me.




The thing I liked about my style is that it didn’t make a lot of sense.  I thought if I could keep people guessing about what I liked, then they wouldn’t be able to label me, and that really appealed to me.  Yes, for you astrology lovers out there, I am a Scorpio.  One day I was wearing my green Docs and shorts and a plain green t-shirt, and I was wearing this necklace I used to wear all the time that was amethyst beads with a peace symbol pendant.  This kid in my class was blown away, and said I couldn’t wear a peace necklace with Docs because it didn’t make sense.  Yes, exactly.  Thank you.




Anyway, back to the story.  Hmm…  Oh yes, back to the needle thing.  I had decided when I was 17 that I would get a tattoo after I turned 18, but I was still struggling with the design I wanted to get.  So I put it off until I had the design figured out.  I am now 31, and still do not have a tattoo… I think I probably won’t get one at this point.  But if you told me then that I would never end up getting a tattoo, I don’t think I would have believed you!




When I was in college, there were more frequent blood drives at the student union, and I participated a number of times without much incident.  But after I moved out to Arizona and got a job, I tried three times and was turned away each time for having low hemoglobin.  This has a lot to do with not having enough iron to donate safely.  So I gave up. 




Last December, there was a drive at my office and I decided to give it a try.  It had been 9 years since my last attempt.  Lo and behold, I was able to donate!  I was so excited.  I donated again in February as soon as I was eligible.  I tried again last week and my iron was too low.  So I made major adjustments to my diet this week and tried again yesterday.  Oh, so close!  The tech told me I had increased it so much in just a week, that he thought if I kept doing what I was doing with my diet, I could be able to donate tomorrow.




Today, as I decided to try one last time (for now), I sat in the little office with the tech.  As she was about to stick my finger, I said, “think heavy thoughts!”  Unfortunately, they were not heavy enough… that darn iron.  It’s hard being a woman and trying to maintain adequate iron levels. 




Well, even though I still have a lot of those old clothing items and shoes in my closet, I can definitely say my style has changed as I’ve aged.  I may wish I could go out and get pink rainbow hair, but something tells me it just wouldn’t look right on me now.  And the piercings and tattoos… yeah, I can think of other things I would rather do with the time and money.  But one thing is still the same: I still want to donate blood.  I can, so I do.  And tell me, what could be more rebellious than that?

Everyone Likes Cheese (posted 4/13/2009)

For Easter Sunday, we took the easy road this year.  No fighting the parking lot at church.  No searching for eggs.  No mixing of toddler and sugar.  We did celebrate with lots of bunnies, pretty basket purses, and the infamous see-saw (more to come on that).  We even watched the Velveteen Rabbit thanks to Grandma.  But we didn’t quite get around to dyeing the eggs we hard-boiled.  The big deal this Easter was breakfast and the Big Show.

Breakfast wasn’t even all that, but I did make some darn yummy pancakes thanks to Bisquick.  Then we goofed around a bit and since Katy and I got up early, she went down for a nap early.  I told her that after she took a little rest, we were going to go see a big show.  I told her that Mickey and Minnie would be there, and we would see them and lots of other friends ice skate.  I mentioned that we would ride a train to go to the big show, and it would be lots of fun.  Does that sound okay to you?  “Oh-so.”  (That means yes.)

You may have guessed by now that the big show is Disney on Ice.  Mike got some free tickets from work, so we decided to try it.  We weren’t sure what her attention span would be, and figured if it didn’t work out, at least we weren’t out any cash for the experience, except for maybe the train fare.

Mike packed up the diaper bag, and we decided to bring my Ergo carrier instead of attempting to bring a stroller that would probably not be allowed in the seats.  We made sure to bring a couple of friends with us, the featured friends of the day being Cocoa, her chocolate lab stuffed animal from Bob Evans in Wooster, “Cah,” the plastic macaw figurine from the Rainforest Café, and Peep, the smaller one.  Katy refers to any yellow chick as a peep.  Grandma gave her a wind-up toy that is a little peep inside a hamster wheel.  It can roll the entire length of our hallway and then some.  It can also go quite far on the sidewalk before predictably veering off into the grass.  This marked our first experience since Friday without Katy’s see-saw.  Apparently, when at Walgreen’s with Grandma and Grandpa, Katy’s little laser vision locked onto a decoration that is a bunny and a peep on a little see-saw.  It’s not a toy—I’m quite confident it will break if dropped on the tile—but she insisted and the grandparents just had to go with the flow.  Ever since, it was practically glued to her hand or in its close vicinity until now.

We got on the train, which is where Katy can get into trouble because there are no seat belts or harnesses.  But she did great and we had fun.  She had been on the train before, when we went to the NBA Jam Session.

When we got off the train downtown, we decided to head to Seamus McCaffrey’s for an early dinner.  We loaded Katy onto my back in the Ergo, and headed over there.  She seemed to enjoy riding this way, saying, “Mommy, wassat?  Mommy, wook, Mommy, wassat?  Mommy, wassat?” over and over as we walked about a block to the pub.

Fries (no ketchup, please—here, let me put it on your salad plate, Mommy), quesadilla, and a little boogie action to some hard rock on the jukebox… don’t forget the milk, of course.  It was a good dinner and we loaded her back up on my back to walk down to the arena.  Once we got inside, it was really cool, with Disney vending booths all over the place sporting Incredibles figures and Mickey & Minnie stuff.

The place was maybe a quarter full, and our seats were at the 17^th row from the bottom.  We were pretty much the highest row—no one sat behind us.  I was amazed how few people were there, but then I would not have paid for tickets, so I guess it’s not that crazy.

The show started, and Katy was completely mesmerized, almost in a trance as soon as it began.  She spent a good deal of the show sitting on my lap and asking where Mickey and Minnie went, not caring about the current song and characters… it is all about the mouse, people.  The story went like this: the Incredibles, sorry, the Parr family, went to Disneyland for a family vacation.  When they arrived, they were chosen as the family to grand marshal the day’s parade.  Somehow, Syndrome showed up and kidnapped Minnie & Mickey with his big robot.  Thus began the Parrs’ need to get supersuits made by Edna so they could suit up and fight Syndrome to free Mickey and Minnie.  Along the way, Mr. Incredible damaged a good deal of the rides, saving his family from animatronic characters.  But I really enjoyed the old fashioned attractions that were included—the Pirates of the Caribbean, It’s a Small World, the Haunted Mansion, Space Mountain, and maybe my favorite—the Tiki Room.

We had a great time, and because the crowd was so light, it was no problem getting a family bathroom to change her before we headed home.  Back on the train, Cocoa had all kinds of adventures on the windowsill in the back row.  Thankfully, Peep stayed in my bag the whole time so we didn’t lose him.  Cah eventually ended up there too, which I discovered this morning after I got to work. 

Last night, as I was trying to leave the room after putting her to bed, Katy kept talking.  I stayed and we processed the events maybe about 40 times.  “Mommy, robot.  Mickey an Minnie, save.  Super.  Dihnney cassuhw.  Robot.  Mommy, Mickey an Minnie.”  I kept assuring her that the Incredibles, the super heroes, saved Mickey & Minnie; that they were safe and everyone was okay.  They told that robot to go home, and it did.  Everything is alright.  Mickey and Minnie were rescued, and they all went to have a big party in the Disney castle. 

Alas, she kept worrying about it.  So I talked to her about the other robot she’s familiar with—the one that stomps through downtown saying, “Cheese.  Cheese.  Cheese,” as the Backyardigans superheroes try to stop it.  Turns out that the robot just wants to have its picture taken, and when they figure that out, the robot poses and says, “Cheese.”  So I did the robot voice and the poses and said cheese a few (20?) times, and that finally put a smile on her face and she let the story rest.  Ah… good night.  Cheese saves the day.

Snap, Crackle, Pop (posted 4/2/2009)

When I was a little kid, the coolest breakfast cereal we were allowed to have in our house was, by far, Rice Krispies.  Even though I was told numerous times throughout my childhood that I should become a lawyer because of my effective arguing skills, there was no amount of effort on my part that ever resulted in products like Cookie Crisp in our cupboards.  Granted, I am sure I ate more than my share of chocolate chip cookies, but at least they wouldn't be found in my breakfast--if Mom had anything to say about it.  Of course, she was correct.  There probably isn't any difference between Cookie Crisp and a bowl full of cookies.  So anyway, back to the Rice Krispies...

The thing that makes Rice Krispies so cool is the sound effects.  Once you pour the milk on them, little tiny bubbles form and then they pop.  It's this sound that formed the basis of their famous "Snap, Crackle & Pop" slogan (and cartoon characters, of course).  Well, lo and behold, Rice Krispies showed up in our kitchen recently.  Mike saw them advertised on sale at the grocery store and decided to buy them.  When I saw them, it was a real "duh" moment, as in "Duh, why didn't I think of buying those for Katy?"

When the weekend came around, I poured a bowl of them for Katy, and a bowl for myself.  I set her up for the excitement of hearing snap, crackle, pop... poured the milk... brought them to the table and we both sat down together and had them for breakfast.  I was impressed that a) she actually ate something new and seemed to like it, and b) she sat in Mike's chair and used her own spoon and actually got most of it in her mouth!  But I admit, inside I was slightly disappointed because she didn't seem to absorb or react to my enthusiasm about them.

My disappointment quickly disappeared the next morning, when Katy came to the kitchen for breakfast and asked me for "Pop-Pops."  I not-so-immediately understood that she was referring to the Rice Krispies.  Yeah!  She likes 'em!  She asked for them!  Woo-hoo!  (I'm still not entirely sure why this is a big deal to me.)

Now, with her finicky toddler ways, at least I have Pop-Pops to fall back on.  One day, when she wasn't feeling well, she actually refused anything but Pop-Pops all day.  I don't know how you can enjoy Pop-pops for breakfast, lunch, and dinner... but that day, she did.  I decided not to worry about it since she wasn't well that day, and luckily she hasn't done that again.

So yeah, Pop-Pops now reign supreme in our house, like they did most of the time in my house growing up.  Cool.

Cuteness Chronicles (posted 3/16/2009)

What can I say?  My Katy Rose is a Talker.  And a Dancer.  And a Giggler... sometimes she's a Whiner, frequently a Runner, and most recently she transforms into a panting puppy close to bedtime (not quite sure why.)  She is still a sweetheart and extremely cute for the overwhelming majority of the time, although yesterday she pulled my hair--on purpose, and hard--twice.  Nipping that in the bud!!

 

Lately her favorite thing to watch is Dumbo.  She has huge sympathy for Dumbo's mommy and baby Dumbo, and when they cry, she makes sad sounds too.  And when the weird Pink Elephants on Parade scene comes on, she gets up and marches and dances to it.  I'm glad, because I think I was kinda freaked out by that scene when I was a kid.  But she gets a kick out of it.  I know she doesn't grasp the whole circumstance of that--that her baby elephant and his mouse buddy are hallucinating because they are totally drunk, immediately after gulping water that was tainted with a bottle of booze the clowns accidentally knocked over.  And I don't think I realized as a kid how the black birds are a total racial stereotype.  But hey, it can't be all that much worse than the stuff on television today, can it?

 

Last night we went to the Olive Garden.  By the way, they have one of the best kids' mac 'n' cheese of any restaurant we've been to.  Little shells and a great, creamy cheese sauce that tastes better than your typical Velveeta shells 'n' cheese.  They had a really large booklet for the kids to color on.  Katy spent a lot of time coloring in the characters.  She's getting surprisingly good at coloring (in my humble Mother's opinion). 

 

What was really cute was that I asked her if she wanted mac 'n' cheese or pizza, and she decided on the mac 'n' cheese.  So she kept asking for it before it arrived, and I kept explaining that the lady would bring it in just a minute.  When the waitress brought the salad, Katy looked at her and asked, "Cheese?"  I even got her to say please and thank you to the waitress for bringing the food and her milk.  There is not much cuter than a chub-faced 2-year-old that says, "Puweeez?" and "Tain koo."

 

Katy's fascination with blankets is fading.  In its place is her fascination with "Kay-ee's aah-mals."  There's a whole family of Pooh bears, several of Pooh's friends, and some random other favorite stuffed animals that are often piled on Mommy or on the floor or in her crib, and then she lays on top of the pile and snuggles in, complete with a "Kay-ee's aah-mals" in a warm and fuzzy type of voice.  What's also funny is that there is a "Mommy Pooh" and a "Baby Pooh" in addition to several other Poohs.  As Katy herself says... "Cute."

 

Since her 2nd birthday, Katy has gotten lots of play out of her Mr. Potato Head, her new Little People Builders set, her little kitchen, and the tricycle.  She's not quite there with the trike yet, but she is trying.  She understands how to get on and off, and put her feet on the pedals, but getting going, staying in motion, and steering have yet to be mastered.

 

Yesterday I took her to a local park that has a great mostly-shaded playground.  We had been there for a while, and she was having fun and going down slides and running & screaming for fun like some other kids.  Then a little boy about her size came toward her.  They were both kinda smiling, and it looked like they were going to reach out and hug each other any second.  But then the little boy reached out both hands and shoved her right in the chest, knocking her down.  She broke into tears and ran to me, her little heart broken from such unprovoked meanness.  Fortunately, his mom was right there and witnessed the whole thing.  She tried to get him to apologize to Katy but he was silent.  So she picked him up and said if he couldn't play nice then he couldn't play at all, and she took him off to the parking lot and left.  She apologized to me on his behalf, which was really nice.  I was glad she handled it the way she did.  Katy's still sheltered, having been with her parents and grandparents all this time, and is not accustomed to other kids being rough with her.  I admit, I do wonder about this and whether it is good or not for her to be so protected from "the real world."  I know, only a mom would worry about stuff like that, right?

Full Blanket Jacket (posted 2/20/2009)

As Katy rapidly approaches her second birthday, her vocabulary has pretty much exploded.  She now adds words at a rate I can't keep up with.  Sometimes she even does the random conversation with herself that is full of gibberish, or sings a song that I can't understand (think Boo in "Monsters, Inc." when she sings to herself in the men's room while Sully waits for her).

I recently had a conversation with my mom over Katy's newfound obsession with blankets.  I have noticed that in the last week or two, Katy is insistent on having not just one, but multiple blankets with her.  If there is only one, she'll ask, "Wheh ah bonket? Kee get."  That translates to, "Where's the other blanket?  Katy will get it," and she takes off running to retrieve another one from her room.  Sometimes we play peek-a-boo with them.  Her daddy likes to build tunnels for her with them, and they play tent with them.  And sometimes she wraps it around herself and walks around like a little Yoda, except cuter. 

My poor mom can't distinguish between Katy's pronunciations of "jacket" and "blanket," which gives me a little laugh because I consider them quite different.  She tried to explain to me how she determines the difference based on Katy's action at the time.  I guess Katy is saying that her blanket is her jacket when she wraps it around herself.  I'm actually more impressed that when I ask Katy to put her jacket on, she actually gets her hands into the right arm holes if I hold the jacket up for her.

My little chatterbox is also picking up people's names much more quickly now.  And she's getting good at using magic words, please and thank you.  She actually insisted on having apple with the skin left on the other day, which amazingly led to no diaper issues.  Along with getting into more mischief, she's turning into a big kid before my eyes.  But thankfully, she is still a major Mama's Girl, and I'm still loving that.  All I have to do is look at her funny and she'll bust out laughing.  Oh, if only this stage could last...