surely not related...?

Says Lucy, "I'm making a diary of life!"
Me, curious where she learned this: "What does diary mean?"
Lucy: "Well, uh, it's like diarrhea. You know, poo-poo."

Perhaps etymologists should take note.
And maybe bloggers, too?

calendar

D had to go out of town over the weekend. All went well (no sickness, fine sleep, etc). But it has messed up my sense of time. Without the weekend, I could swear it was Friday. Right? Shouldn't my day off be starting any time now?

toddler

Julia's walking. She was taking steps last week, but she's done with that, thank you very much. Now she chooses walking over crawling, and holds one hand up over her head as she goes. It looks either like she's still holding someone's hand (proto-imaginary friend?) or like a victory punch. Hi-yah!

Is there any sight sillier than a nude toddler? I mean, roly-poly beligerant waddling? Really?

She is also starting to get signs, come when I ask, point and nod when she wants things. Sometimes this backfires, as now she is sure that we just won't give her something, instead of perhaps just not understanding her. The other day she gave Dyami the saddest-clown face ever when he said no, and then (one-one thousand, two one-thousand) burst into tears.

Ah, my toddler. Still snuggly, still pudgy, still only with six teeth. Still a baby, sort of. And yet: you are leaving babyhood quickly as your little bow legs will take you. Sweet girl, I love you at any age.

welcome to a new year

I've been gone a bit, after NaBloPoMo burnout. And now it's 2011. What happened?

And now, for a Lucy joke created after watching a TV show based upon the classic "chicken/road" joke (which, now that I think about it from a preschooler's perspective, is rather avant garde):

Q: Why did the chicken cross the bridge?
A: To get across it so it could go down to the riverbank! (hahahahaha).

And: Happy New Year! May your days be filled with laughter!

gifts my daughters gave me

Just today:
a pad of paper transformed into a waiter's order sheet
a new game: clapping mama's hands together (riotous laughter)
giving gifts to one another: belly kisses/pieces of pancake

ah, my girls. Such sweetness. And great belly kisses, too.

they really are everywhere

Me: Come on, Lucy. We need to go to Starbucks to get the gift cards.
Lucy: I'm Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz.
Me: Great, Dorothy. Get shoes on.
Lucy: Okay. They have those coffee shops in Munchkinland, you know.

I didn't actually, but I can't say I'm surprised.

this is that house

This is the house with the Daddy gone.
This is the baby waking up at five thirty, in the house with the traveling Daddy.
This is the kid with the runny nose, with the baby awake at half-past-five, in the house with the traveling Daddy.
This is the baby, coming down with it too, the sister sniffling a runny nose, the baby awake at half-past-five, in the house with the travelling daddy.
This is the baby, skipping her nap, that sickly, snotty, coughy baby, the sister sniffling her runny nose, the baby awake at half-past-five, in the house with the traveling daddy.
This is the friends, calling to cancel, the play dates scheduled after the nap, of the wakeful, sickly, sniffly baby, the sister in tandem, blowing her nose, the baby awake at half-past-five, in that house with the travelling Daddy.
This is the mommy, asleep by nine.