Same thing we do every night, Pinky...

Have I mentioned lately how fast Nora's vocabulary is growing? Because it's fast. It's extraordinarily nice to have her ask for book, ball, water, help, more, outside, etc. And it's even nicer that she appears to think that the only way to distinguish between talking about these things and asking for them is to say "please." She even said, "more water please" the other day.

She says, "Where's the ball?" so often that I want to velcro that thing to her thorax. Did I ever think it was cute that she wanted to play ball with Suma? Perish the thought.

And of course, with the power of speech comes the power of persuasion. We just ended a director's cut of the bedtime ritual that contained many iterations of the following conversation:

Nora: Milk?

Mom: No. It's time for bed.

Nora: Water?

Mom: No. It's time for bed.

Nora: Apple?

Mom: No. It's time for bed.

Nora: Book?

Mom: Story time is over. It's time for bed.

Nora: Book, Mama. Mo' book. Pease? Pease, mo' book?

Mom: That's a nice way to ask, but no. All done with books. It's time for bed.

Then, Nora wrapped her little, stumpy arms around my neck and started snuggling and kissing my cheek and rubbing my hair. Shameless. Effective, but shameless.

Strangely enough, when I actually put her in her crib, she just stood at the edge and watched me walk to the door. Then, she laid down and cuddled with her monkey. I never heard a peep out of her. I expected a tantrum. Who knows what she's thinking? Maybe at that point, she says to herself, "It was a well-matched game against a solid opponent. I am content to lose this round."

Or maybe, she's sitting in her darkened room, right now, plotting against me.

The sense to come in out of the rain

And that's exactly what Nora doesn't have. It's been a long time since we had any rain and it was exciting to a kid who's never had a chance to play in it. And I really, really like the light on cloudy days, so I went right along with her. When I can't decide if I should allow something, I ask myself:

1. Is she safe?
2. Is she happy?

I went with 1. Yes and 2. Yes, yes, oh my god, yes.

You be the judge. Notice that both she and the camera lens get progressively wetter as time goes on.

Full Steam Ahead to Toddlertown...Ugh.

Nora's daycare, those bastions of child-rearing excellence (with their operating room shoe covers, "allergen-free" kitchen and disease that runs amok just like anywhere those Petri dishes known as toddlers roam) have requested pictures. They want recent pictures of Nora alone and Nora with her family. I suppose they figure that even though they are caring for my child through the vast majority of her waking hours and formative years, they should nod to the fact that we somehow created the kid.

Sadly, my embittered state has precluded such frivolous pursuits as recording the development of Nora as a person or us as a family. So, I broke out the old camera the other day. These are what I came up with. They'll have to do.

Eric's parents were here last week, since we were both on call for the weekend. They had a wonderful time with the Stinker. Now, Nora keeps asking for and calling for "Nanny." Particularly when she's not terribly pleased with me. As in, when I say, "Nora, it's time for bed, " she narrows her eyes at me and runs away, yelling, "Nanny?!?!" I think she's grasped the concept of a second opinion. Not that it does her any good.

Nora is thriving. She comes out with new words daily, now. She also got three time-outs today. Slapping is fun, apparently. The good with the bad, the good with the bad. I'm continually reminding myself that Nora is a toddler and that this isn't personal. Being the bad guy gets pretty old, especially when everyone who cares for her tells me what a wonderful, delightful child she is and how they have no trouble with her whatsoever. Our time together is so limited and she has to spend it testing, testing, testing. I'd never not set limits (that's how you get an out-of-control dog, I mean kid, right?), but there are times that it's tempting to just set it all aside and play. Just play. Know what I mean?

Don't Talk...I'm Savoring the Moment

There comes a time in every parent's life when you think, "That's it. I've done all I can here." This is that time:

Seriously. They're self-entertaining, now. Anything else I attempt (manners, arithmatic, toilet training) will only spoil the perfect symmetry. Therefore, we have resolved to cease all parenting efforts now and I have requested that Nora refrain from acheiving any further developmental milestones. She's cool with it.

Suma, for her part, has already proven that she's not going to grow up.

And P.S.- Nora is clearly feeling better. Apparently, Mom being snide about your energy level on the internet is therapeutic somehow.

Ah, the days of yore

So, Nora's been sick with fevers for the last few days. Eric and I went out of town for the first time ever without her this last weekend. That, of course caused the compost to hit the ventilator as we used to say in my Poultry Science days (If you don't know, don't ask...). We had a delightful weekend and came home to a vomiting, lethargic child and a babystter who was crying and may or may not ever return our calls again.

And so it has gone for the last three days, so when Nora actually decided to eat, who was I to argue? Yeah, I'm rationalizing, but I have to do it to avoid feeling like a terrible parent for allowing this to happen:

That is, in fact, hummus. And she is, in fact eating it out of the container with her fingers. I'm totally going to have to throw that pillow away, too.

Let's reminisce, shall we? I long for the days when my daughter enjoyed being upright and talking- sometimes at the same time! Please note the distinct lack of tears (mine or Nora's) in this video. I miss that.

Lilly and Nora Pictures

Take a minute to leaf on over to the McCord's blog and check out our girls being cute.