But-ter

The other day Emma was having a rough afternoon. She was cranky and clingy and she would not let me cook dinner. She wanted "up" all the time. When Steve finally came home he jumped right in to help with dinner by buttering the bagels. Emma noticed the but-ter right away (Emma enunciates each syllable like it is written) and kept repeating the word while practically hopping up and down. When she wasn't saying but-ter she was saying up. Her voice was getting higher and higher. Her eyes were getting more and more frantic. She was over-tired and hungry. It was a crucial time. It could have gone from bad to horrible in a matter of moments. Then Emma would disappear completely and the monster would awake. :)
Since Steve had dinner under control I scooped Emma up and started to dance with her. She was still saying but-ter and trying to watch Steve. The dance turned into a but-ter chant that reminded me of the Native American dances around a fire. The chant went like this: but-ter, ch, ch, ch, ch. (the rhythm was like this: 1 and 2 and, and 4, for those of you musically inclined.) Every time we said but-ter I hopped up and down and then for the ch's I shuffled my feet and rocked her from side to side. Emma absolutely loved it! She calmed down right away and had an extreme shift in mood. She was no longer angry but happy and giggly. The monster went back to sleep, and Emma and I were doing the but-ter dance around the kitchen. It was the funniest sight!
Now the but-ter dance has become a sort of ritual and Emma associates dancing and hopping with the word but-ter. Just this evening during the apricot show we all started dancing and clapping about apricots. (Is this too weird?) Again, Emma loved it. She was so into trying to hop when we did that she actually caught some air and had her first official hop. :) It didn't take her too long to say but-ter while she was dancing and clapping. Just the image of her hopping around all nakey while saying but-ter cracks me up. Oh, the things we do to amuse our kids!

The day has finally come

Emma climbed out of her crib this afternoon, crawled safely down the stairs and surprised and scared me half to death when I saw her coming around the corner of the kitchen. Yikes!

Emma had been in her crib for an afternoon "nap;" the first 30 minutes or so were spent talking and reading and apparently planning her escape. When I thought that she had finally fallen asleep (using the monitor sounds for clues) I began to vacuum the back room downstairs. When I got close to the monitor in the kitchen I checked it for lights (indicators of volume intensity) and all was well so I kept vacuuming the couch. Then I thought I heard a somewhat strange sound- not quite a thump and explainable in hundreds of ways. A few seconds later I thought I saw Porter moving around in a strange manner at the base of the stairs, and at first that didn't stop me. Until my brain caught up with my eyes (it must have been the loud vacuum noises that distracted me :)) and I realized that Porter was doing her excited-about-something dance. Is someone at the door? (One explanation for the thump sound.) Oh, cr*# I better turn this thing off, which I promptly did and headed for the stairway. At the corner who should I meet but Emma- carrying the bathroom wastebasket that had been awaiting its return to the second floor on the stairs.

Emma was not crying and had no signs of having been crying anytime soon. She was not smiling either, but that could have been due to the shock and fear that she saw on my face. (My heart practically stopped when I saw her standing there. Flashes of the completely unsafe journey she had just accomplished, complete with images of wipeouts, bumps and bruises zoomed across my mind. I felt like I was in a dream or nightmare of sorts.) I scooped her up and asked her all sorts of questions like... How did you get here? Do you hurt anywhere? Are you a monkey? What happened? Are you okay? Intermingled were hugs and kisses and loving praises and my statements of how shocked and scared I was for her. All in all, not the best 5 minutes of my mommy life. But, the best news is that as far as I could tell Emma was unharmed by her monkey-ish skills. Whew. I just wish I could see it on video or know what she was thinking or is thinking about her escape.

It is not over yet, as far as escaping goes. Steve and I converted her crib to the toddler's bed after bath time. We tucked it into the corner, padded the ends, filled the gap along the wall with rolled blankets, and covered the floor with even more blankets. Then we laid her down, turned our backs, and waited. It took about half a dozen silent returns before Emma gave up climbing out of bed. After 10 minutes we left the room and Emma promptly came to the door. I returned her to her bed and waited at the door. 5 minutes or so later and she was committed to her new sleeping arrangement. She wasn't asleep yet, but that came shortly thereafter.

Thinking about the events of today makes me sad. Emma is growing so fast! Although I am so proud of her accomplishments (I also climbed out of my crib and shared my skills with my younger brother to the chagrin of my parents) and so amazed at what she can do and how much she learns, it also makes me sad that once it is gone, it's gone. The time and stage I mean. Well, my brain cells, too, but that's another story.

I am wondering if Emma will wake up scared because her crib is gone. If she will be prone to falling out of bed. If we will need to teach her to tell time for avoiding possible early morning wake up calls. If Emma realizes how much of a big deal it is to now have a big girl's bed. If this will start an avalanche of big girl things Emma must have or do. If I'll be able to get any sleep with all of this wondering.

Conversation pieces

Emma: M-L-E. M-L-E! M-L-E? (Stands for my friend, Emily, who visited us in May and who was not here for this conversation.)
Mama: Emily isn't here. It is sad, I know. Where is Emily?
Emma: Ca-go (Chicago! That is indeed where Emily lives.)


Emma: Grandma!
Mama: Great Grandma is at her house.
Emma: Grandma.
Mama: Where is Great Grandma?
Emma: Dinah (Medinah! That is where Great Grandma lives.)


Emma: Porter! (Exicted about watching Porter chase shadows and lights.)
Daddy: Yes, that is Porter. Who is Porter's friend?
Emma: Yandy! (Actually Sandy, Great grandma's dog.)


Mama: I am getting ready to play soccer. See, here are my socks, and there is my soccer ball.
Emma: Goal! (That's my girl!)

Baby

Warm weather means garage sales! I love to go garage saleing (yes, it is a verb), and I am hoping that Emma will learn to love it as well. Otherwise it will be long, lonely summers for us. :)

Yesterday we went out for a walk on our street with empty pockets and no stroller or doggie. We were free! So we first headed to the right, two doors down to check out their garage sale. Emma loved the books and the dancing Elmo doll. Luckily, she didn't get attached to anything so I was able to easily get her to walk back the way we came. We kept walking past our house towards the other end of the street and another garage sale.

At this sale, there was a blanket of stuffed animals and dolls in the middle of the driveway. Emma was instantly distracted by the plush pile and in particular, a small baby doll. I took the opportunity to browse while she "played" with the baby. Since I didn't have any money, I did not purchase the cute, black flip flops for 75 cents- a real bargain. I scooped up Emma and introduced ourselves. Emma kept saying "baby" so I had to carry her across the street and away from "baby." She almost had a meltdown, but for some reason we managed to get almost back home before she sat down and refused to move. I carried her back home with the resolve to scrounge up some change and buy "baby" later in the day.

This morning, Baby was waiting for Emma downstairs. You should have seen the way her eyes lit up and heard the excitement in the way she said "baby!" Emma proceeded to give her kisses and hugs and tried to put the pacifier in Baby's mouth. Baby sat in Mama's seat for breakfast; Mama had to sit somewhere else. Baby came with us when we did more garage saleing this morning. Baby is currently sleeping on the floor next to Emma's crib. Emma is currently not sleeping, however. (Perhaps Baby needs to sleep out of sight or perhaps garage saleing put Emma in an overtired state. ) We'll see where this relationship heads to! I am thinking that a stroller and crib for Baby need to be found. More garage sales here we come!

Thank you

The other morning Emma and I were in the kitchen while I was fixing her breakfast. She has been practicing words and repeating random things I say as was the case that morning. (I think it was Monday or Tuesday morning.) I gave her something (maybe a piece of fruit I was chopping- isn't it terrible how quickly the mind goes?) and said, "Can you say thank you, Emma?" This is a common practice, and in the past she has signed thank you with her hand. That morning she said a very tentative, "Thank you." My heart melted right there.

From that point on she kept saying "thank you" until she was confident with the sounds. Of course, the th sound is more like a td blend where the t is soft, which makes the words even more cute. :) "Td-ank you."

To add to the heart melting cuteness, yesterday I was in the kitchen and I heard Emma padding around the corner, muttering "tdank you, tdank you, tdank you." She came up to me and handed me my knitting bundle that had been left on the couch or end table, saying "tdank you" the whole while. Thankfully my mind was working fast enough to stop my tongue from asking why she had my knitting in the first place (she knows she is not supposed to touch it, even when Mama leaves it somewhere tempting). Here she was being sweet and recreating something we had done earlier in the week so instead I thanked her for being so sweet and for having such good manners. No, thank you, Emma.

(On a previous day Emma had picked up my knitting when I set it down to do a quick thing (don't know what!). I calmly said, "oh, are you handing that to Mama? Thank you, Emma, for being so thoughtful." Or something like that.) Apparently Emma is rapidly learning new words and how to (mostly) use them correctly. Aside from the word "Mama", which obviously tugs on my heart strings "tdank you" is right at the top of my favorite-words-Emma-says-list.

Green or red?

When it comes to grapes, Steve and I have our own definite and different answers. I prefer green grapes. When I go to the grocery store I buy green grapes. Steve prefers red grapes. When Steve goes to the grocery store he buys red grapes. Emma, so far, eats whatever grape is sitting in front of her. Indeed, at this year's Super Bowl party she was grabbing (green) grapes off the table and shoving them into her mouth faster than we could stop her. Up to that point I don't even think she had tasted a grape before due to the potential choking hazard.

Since we usually don't have both red and green grapes on the counter at the same time, Emma has shown no preference for one or the other. Until today that is- Emma and I came home from the grocery store with green and red grapes. I was really curious which parent she prefers, I mean which grape she prefers. :)

After lunch I gave Emma one half of a green grape and one half of a red grape. Once she had eaten them both I asked her which one she liked better. No answer. So I gave her two more halves and asked, "Which is better, Emma, red or green?" She said, "Blue!"


PS Later, Emma spit out the red grape skins and asked for more green grapes. Hmm...

Goooooooooal!

Yesterday I had a soccer game at 2 pm. It was a gorgeous day- a perfect, not hot temperature, a little breeze and lots of sun. I had been trying to convince Steve that he should bring Emma to the game so while I caught my breath on the sidelines I waited and watched for signs of my family. Into the second half of the game I heard my name, turned and saw Steve and Emma sitting on the bench!

Emma looked so darn cute dressed in her light-weight long-sleeves and my white Nike baseball cap. She was nestled on Steve's lap drinking from her sippy cup and eating raisins. It was so much fun! (At least for me.) According to Nick (a team member) Emma was saying "boom, boom" whenever someone kicked the ball. Steve told me later that she had been saying "goooal" when they first arrived as we taught her to do when someone says "soccer." Unfortunately, they did not get to see any goals so Emma gave up on the word "goal" and switched to "boom."

After the game, Emma got to meet some of my team mates. Lauren was shocked that Emma is only 18 months old because of how tall she is. Lauren said that Emma looks like she is almost 4 years old. Yikes! She made friends with Arrow, a dog, and tried giving my hat to a player from the other team. She just walked over to his bag, stuffed the cap in and started looking for something else. She might do well in countries that use the barter system!

Emma also had fun throwing and kicking the soccer balls that were lying around. Jill, whom Emma has met before, was showing her how to play catch. When Emma got bored of that (within a minute) she cruised around kicking the ball. She is already a better dribbler than Mama! :) When I mentioned that we need to get Emma a soccer ball, Steve agreed with the stipulation that it doesn't have to be tiny and made for toddlers- Emma was doing just fine with the size 5 balls!

PS My team won 1-0. The only goal scored was by Nick in the early part of the first half.