Things I have learned about my three year old (so far).

(She is almost as tall as our irises.)

1. The two year-old style "fits" have decreased, but the yelling in my face has increased. Now we have a "no yelling in my face" rule, which I never imagined I would have to create.

2. She is still extremely cautious, and embraces self-preservation. After we converted Penny's crib to a toddler bed, it took her a week to figure out that she could get out of it on her own. In the morning, if she wakes up before we do (e.g. weekends), she will call for me, and I will call back (from bed), "Come here." And then I can hear the tiniest creak of the floorboards, followed by the sound of her little feet on the floor, pum, pum, pum, pum, PUM! And then she's at my side of the bed, smiling in my sleepy, disheveled face.

3. She has a bladder of steel. We are deep in the throes of potty training, for real this time. Pull-ups have been banished and are only for sleeping. Underwear is in full effect. Accidents have been minimal, except that she hides in her closet to poop. In her underwear. Sigh. Anyway, the first couple of days she only peed a couple of times, so either she can hold it for a long time, or her bladder is incredibly strong, or using the potty is just that horrible.

4. Someday she will read this and be totally mortified by item #3. But I really couldn't be prouder. She even used the potty at Grandma's house today, which is a giant step. We are finally getting somewhere.

5. She adores her family. When I tell her that her Aunt M and Uncle P are coming over for dinner, she claps her hands and shouts, "They're part of my family!"

6. She is on our schedule; therefore we have created a monster. Britt and I stay up pretty late, (although it seems to be getting harder with age), and now so does Penny. We TRY to start the bedtime ritual by 8:30, but she's the queen of stalling. Even if we get her in bed by 9:00, she talks and sings to herself and carries on for an hour afterwards. Then I have to wake her up on the mornings I go to work, and it's not pleasant.

When Penny was two, I heard over and over that three is worse than two. I think we're doing ok. Some things have certainly improved, and others have sort of evolved, or devolved, for better or for worse. I could do without the yelling, but I appreciate the energetic attempt at communication. The bedtime routine could be faster, but at least she doesn't get out of her bed! So I'll just count my blessings, then.

And a Happy New Year

How is everyone? Did you survive the weekend? For a minute there, I wasn't sure we were going to make it. I don't know if it was stress from the regular holiday insanity, but Penny and I didn't get along well last week. Every day was Opposite Day, the Word of the Week was "NO," time outs were threatened and enforced. I nicknamed her the Bipolar Baby because her mood swings were so extreme, I wondered if there was an adolescent trapped in her two year old body. She was crying one minute and laughing maniacally the next. I had an emergency play date with my sister-in-law and her kids, and it helped immensely (although it did involve the extrication of a traumatized Penny from the upper tier of a local play-land).

On Friday I had to go to 5 different places with all of the other last-minute shoppers and I dragged Penny along with me, and in hindsight, she put up with a lot. Also, I think there were some underlying fears about Santa, which I finally picked up on after Penny said, for the tenth time, "I don't like Santa."

Part of our problem was we went into party mode, as any self-respecting member of my family does this time of year. Penny stayed up too late, slept in too late (I never thought I would ever say that), and was surly as hell. Then Christmas morning came, and there were presents from Santa, and presents with Britt's family, and presents with my family, and Penny was totally overstimulated.


Seriously awesome rocking horse from our cousins in CO. Olivia is along for the ride.

Fortunately, Opa came to visit, and for the first time, Penny said, "Opa, you come play with me?" And how could he resist?


Drawing with Opa.


Using up the purple.

And now, she's back to her normal, (relatively) reasonable, adorable self, and we're friends again. She has many new things with which to play, and now that the chaos has waned, she's been telling jokes, like this:

Penny: "Mama, say Knock, Knock."
Me: "Ok, Knock, Knock!"
Penny: "Who there?"
Me: "Interrupting Cow."
Penny: "Come in!"



Also, she's been expressing her own opinions about songs on the iPod or the radio, and admonishes me if I change songs. "Mama, I like this song, don't change it." LIKE I would switch away from New Sensation!

Speaking of expression, the easel was pure genius, if I do say so myself. Penny received oodles of art supplies from her family (who got the memo from Santa) and she creates something new every day. She's already used up the purple pastel and the red and green ones need replacing as well. And this makes me very happy. I want 2011 to be full of art, of reading more together, of doing at least one thing with Penny every day that makes me feel like I'm doing a good job fostering her imagination, her creativity, or her emotional well being. Even if a whole day is crap, if I can point to one thing every day and say, "That was great when we did ____ together," then I think that will make for a pretty good year. And I think we can do it.

Flying Solo

I have never taken a major trip without having a 2:1 adult-to-child ratio, so I was nervous about flying to Denver without my Wing Man. The last time Penny flew on an airplane, she was too little to remember. This time, she was well aware of the hubbub in the terminal; all the bustling people, the tension emanating from everyone in the security line, the tension emanating from ME, and the roar of the planes coming and going. Grandpa helped us check our suitcase and the carseat, and we took only the diaper bag and (per the excellent advice of our friends), the umbrella stroller through security so I could prevail over any toddler-dawdling once we were inside the terminal.

Everything went well until it was time to board. I explained to Penny that we couldn't take the stroller on the plane, but we would get it back when we landed. She was distraught when I checked it at the gate, as though I had given away a prized possession. Then as we were boarding, she declared she was not getting on the plane, and went completely stiff in my arms. So I hurried to our seats, with my petrified, hollering child, avoiding eye contact with everyone we passed. I noticed people inserting their earplugs and iPod earphones, to combat the hysterical screaming coming from our side of the plane. Penny would NOT sit. "Noooo!" She screamed. "It too noisy!" "I...(sniff)..don't (sniff)...want..my..(sniff) SEAT BELT!" She was only marginally upset while sitting on my lap, but was furious when I buckled her into her own seat. She screamed for 15 minutes. And that's when I knew I was the mom with that kid. You know, the one who totally ruins your otherwise enjoyable flight.

Flight attendants kept asking (over the din) if I needed anything, and I smiled weakly at them, refraining from requesting tranquilizers. My fight or flight response was so intense, I momentarily considered getting off the plane. But then I realized that was irrational. I paid for these tickets, we're GOING TO DENVER, goddammit. Distraught toddler or no.

And then, from all that effort, she collapsed in my arms. We hadn't even left the runway. She curled into a ball with her head in my lap, still strapped in, and was out like a light. Poor thing. By the time she woke up, we were in the air and well on our way. That's when she realized that flying is fun. Hey Penny, check out this tray table! Guess what? We get snacks! Here's an awesome book I've been saving for just such an occasion! Want to color? I've got new markers!


Tiger by Mommy, cave by Penny.

When we landed, she exclaimed, "I did it!" And someone nearby applauded.

Meanwhile, we had a fabulous time in Denver. I went to a workshop while Penny played with our cousins and took a trip to the Butterfly Pavilion. We also visited the Denver Botanic Gardens, which is festooned with Christmas lights, and they also have Henry Moore sculptures on display. It was a visual feast, and we warmed up with hot cider and sugared almonds. There was much visiting and quality family time, in addition to a long-awaited play date with our friends Eli and Gray, who are even cuter and more cherubic in person. We had an absolute blast.

Flying home was cake for Penny, now that she knew what to expect. We had a frank conversation about seat belts before boarding, and she was the perfect little traveling companion. The couple next to us even said so!

And then, we couldn't land. Literally. The fog (that turns people inside-out) was so terrible in Salt Lake, we had to stay in a holding pattern for 20 minutes above the airport before the pilot finally gave up and took us back to Grand Junction. My brain could not compute this. I had spent my last joule of energy entertaining Penny, first at the gate, and then on the plane. We had already maxed out every possible activity (including barf bag puppets) and now we couldn't get home.


Welcome to Grand Junction, CO.

The Grand Junction airport is small. Their dining establishments consist of a Subway, which had a 40 minute line; filled with hungry people from several other diverted flights. At this point, Penny was impatient and generally opposed to the idea of standing next to me in line. And I was tired. The Subway ran out of bread loaves and had to fill orders with flatbread. We rallied, had a picnic on the floor of the terminal, and waited anxiously for any word of boarding again. Fortunately, a colleague of mine was on the same flight, so I had someone to talk to, to help me wrangle Penny, and to keep me sane. THANK GOD.

Five hours later, we made it home. Britt, who hadn't seen his baby girl for four days, returned to the airport for the second time to rescue us (the first time, he braved the fog and was waiting at baggage claim when our little detour was announced). I was beyond happy to see him.

And now, I feel rather invincible, like I could do anything or go anywhere. I took my child on an adventure and we rocked it. Thanks to everyone who drove us around and hosted and entertained us and fed us. Let's do it again (someday).

Fighting the Humbugs

In 3 more weeks, it will be a new year. This boggles my mind. And in the 3 weeks since I last posted, we had Thanksgiving in Wyoming (which was great), Penny and I flew to Denver (more on that later), I went on another overnight work trip, and we promptly came down with The Crud (the doctor's official diagnosis).

But this weekend, we managed to get into the Xmas spirit a little, by decorating the tree and making cookies. I wasn't sure we were going to be able to jam both activities into the same evening, but Penny was really into it. And I briefly felt like Martha Stewart.





Otherwise, I'm not remotely ready for Christmas. I've barely done any shopping, and instead of venturing out this weekend, I went back to bed in an attempt to sleep in between coughing fits. Bah, Humbug!

Trick or Treat

Halloween in Utah is weird, especially when it falls on a Sunday. And maybe it's weird in other states as well, but I don't recall it being an issue to trick-or-treat in Wyoming on a Sunday, but then again, my memory is a little fuzzy and I was probably more preoccupied with candy at the time. Anyway, every 6 years or so, there is a question about whether to go out on Saturday, or on Sunday, or both. You don't want to look too greedy (oh, who am I kidding?) but you also don't want to look like an idiot, if you are out there, and NO ONE is handing out candy. I know some rather mean-spirited people who refused to give out candy on Saturday, simply out of principle. I also know some people who didn't cater to those who waited until Sunday. All I can say is, thank goodness Halloween will be on Monday next year, so we won't have to worry about it.

But I digress. We were greedy buggers this year, so Penny went trick-or-treating on Saturday with her cousins, and then I took her around our neighborhood on Sunday. Saturday was pretty much a repeat of last year, with Penny sleeping over with her Aunt, Uncle and cousins (plural, now), while Britt and I went to a grown-up party. The two of us. And then we went home. Together. Yep.

Saturday it rained buckets, but Isabelle and Penny were undeterred:



Then Sunday, I told Penny we could go out again after dinner. While I was doing dishes and cooking (I know that doesn't seem like correct order of action, but that's how things are done around here), I told her to keep an eye out for any trick-or-treaters, so she could give them candy. She waited expectantly by the door, so patiently, occasionally calling out that no one was coming. After the third or fourth time she made this observation, Britt went downstairs, raided the costume box (yes, we have one of those), and came up wearing a pirate hat. He went out the side door, so Penny wouldn't see him, came up the path and knocked on the door. Penny was startled, but recognized him immediately as her Daddy, the Pirate. She laughed and gave him candy, and said, "Happy Halloween!"

Then he came back in and went downstairs, and repeated this five more times wearing different costumes. Penny was thrilled. And my heart sang. I like it when it does that.

After dinner, Penny donned her costume, declared it was "her turn," and we went out to see what was going on in our neighborhood. And it was pretty quiet out there. Every couple of houses had a porch light on or the universal beacon of lit pumpkins, so we made a few stops. Most neighbors were dazzled by Penny, the magical fairy princess, and insisted she take extra candy. And then we made the ill-fated stop at the house with the scary clown.



Oh, if only I had known a teenager wearing a demented clown costume was going to answer that door. Penny was positively freaked. And the low, muffled cackling emanating from the rubber clown mask didn't help. I pried my quaking toddler from my leg, thanked the clown and hurried down the block, explaining to a very worried Penny that the clown was just a guy! Wearing a costume! For Halloween! Isn't Halloween fun?

At the next house, a little boy in pajamas (he had gone out on Saturday) answered the door and informed us we were only his 6th visitors. Penny immediately told him about the clown, as he seemed a worthy confidant. Then he warned us against going to the house across the street, where we might get "buzzed." Not wanting to find out what that meant, we decided to pack it in.

And now, the candy negotiations have begun. No, you can't have candy before dinner. No, you can't have more M&Ms, it's time to brush your teeth. And so on. Also, there's candy in my house, which is not a good idea. We need to come up with a better idea for the "treat" part.

I always get a little depressed after Halloween, because it marks the start of the long winter of my discontent. It gets darker and colder, Britt will be working ungodly hours, and I'm not ready to think about Christmas, even though there was already Christmas candy in the Halloween candy aisle at the store.

But I shan't dwell on that right now. For now I will think about how much Penny likes to dress up and dance around the house and how she tells me she loves me every day, "I wub you, Mama." And love like that can get me through any long, cold winter.

Mother of the Year.

Can a day go by without some measure of mental flogging on my part because of some parenting mistake I've made? I know there is no such thing as a perfect parent (there had better not be). But here's the horrible thing I did:

We had discounted tickets to go to Lagoon, so we went with the Fam. Penny would have been pleased as punch to ride the carousel a million times, and I should have just left her alone. But her cousin (the daredevil) was having a blast on the other rides, so I thought maybe Penny should branch out a bit.

First, we tried the boats. We really talked them up and said she could ride with her cousin. That got her excited, because she loves to do whatever Isabelle does. The boats are connected in a circle, floating on a small amount of water, and they have little bells for the kids to ding and steering wheels to steer while they go in their happy little circle. Fun, right? Penny barely tolerated it. She looked worried the whole time, as though thinking, "You can drown in two inches of water..." But she didn't cry! Hooray, we thought. Let's try another one!


Aboard the ill-fated "Goldfish."

Next came the cars, which seemed innocuous enough. The cars go on a little track, with no real steering involved. The only drawback is parents can't ride with their kids. So we watched Penny's cousin and her little friend go first, and they had a grand old time. Then we stood in line and watched child after child get in, take off, and come back around the track. Penny said she wanted to do it. I explained I couldn't go with her, but look how much fun it is! Whee! Then it was her turn, and the ride operator helped her get in. She panicked as the car jumped to life, ambling along the track. But she was already on her way, her cries of protest fading away from me.

Britt was on the other end of the track, waiting for her to appear. He reports that she seemed ok coming around the bend, but that as soon as she saw him, she lost it. And that's when I realized that we are really big jerks.

She made it back to me, escaped the clutches of the horrible car, and we cheered and applauded, and told her she was very brave. And yet it wasn't the end of our ruthless "this is good for you!" experiment.

It started to get hot, so we decided to cool off by going on one of the water rides. We thought, it will be like splashing in the kiddie pool! She'll love it! We can all ride together! But we neglected to consider that there wouldn't be enough weight in the boat to steer away from the waterfalls.

Have I mentioned that Penny hates to get splashed? I mean, no one loves a big splash in the face (except Penny's cousin), but Penny finds it particularly offensive. So of course, with each bump and spray and oops! and wow, that's a really big waterfall coming up, was cause for alarm. Isabelle laughed and screamed and giggled. And Penny sobbed. When it was clear we couldn't steer away from the waterfall, I threw myself on top of her in a foolish attempt to keep her dry. Did I mention the water was cold?

We've never gotten that drenched before. Britt and I were soaked to the bone. Our pants and shoes were sopping. Afterward, I realized I had only packed an extra shirt for Penny, not pants. Yep, Mom of the Year, right here. I forced my kid to endure cold splashing water and didn't even bring a dry outfit.

So, to make it up to her, we hit the carousel for the rest of the day. Later that night, she refused to go to sleep, even though she was utterly exhausted. I think she had some lingering separation anxiety from that horrible car incident.


All better, now.

Penny can recap the experience in her own words: "I like merry-go-round. I don't like the cars. I don't like that WATER." And each time she says that, I feel worse. I wonder if my attempts at forcing bravery will backfire completely. Have I lost her trust? Will she be willing to try it again in another year? Or will she go running for the hills? And is it wrong that a teeny part of me thinks the whole thing was just a little bit funny? God, I'm a jerk.

More Parenting Fails can be found on a recent post at Flotsam. Reading the comments made me feel slightly better.

Yellowstone 2010

Yellowstone is one of my favorite places in the world. It is a sacred place for me, which sounds so hokey, but it's true. My parents loved it too, and as kids, we used to visit at least once a year. We haven't been there since my mom died, partly because we've been busy, because we didn't have the kind of time it takes to go through the Park. And mostly because we haven't been emotionally ready to go back there, without my mom.

But this year, we felt compelled to go. I was ready. I wanted to take Penny on the first of many pilgrimages to Yellowstone.



We had trouble finding a place to stay inside the Park, but scored a wonderful cabin outside of West Yellowstone. Even though it was late in the season, the Park was still busy. People have discovered what we already knew, that September is the perfect time of year to go. The leaves are just starting to turn, the weather is mild, and the wildlife is "active."




Lovely Norwegian Fjord horses, grazing behind our cabin. (Not native to Yellowstone).

Penny was unbelievably good in the car. It takes a while to drive through the Park, because of the "must stop" attractions like Old Faithful, the interesting scenery, and the occasional bison crossing. Any time you can get out and inspect a thermal feature, or get a better look at a distant elk herd, you must! It was challenging to coax Penny into getting back into the car once we had stopped to look at something. But she handled it well, considering her legs were probably constantly numb from sitting in her carseat.



If you haven't been to Yellowstone, you must go. I always see something I haven't seen before. I'm already wondering when we can go back.

Fore!

Last weekend, we ventured out to enjoy the FREE mini-golf course at the Salt Lake Art Center. All of the holes were created by top local artists (and some from around the country). We hadn't been mini-golfing in ages, and this exhibition was a fun excuse to go downtown and support the arts.

This one was one of my favorites, made out of yarn. Those fashionable surgical booties on Britt's feet were to protect the course. They didn't have Penny's size.


Fore!


Thwack!

Mini-golf is the best kind of golf because you don't have to be good at it to have fun. Parts of the course were intentionally designed to be hard, if not totally impossible, so it was both challenging and entertaining.

This one was aptly named "Pissing Into the Wind."



I'm glad we went—it was fun to get out of the house and do something different. If you're here in town, the exhibit ends September 16th.

27 Months Old

Dear Penny,

Oh, dear. We seem to be in the thick of the "terrible twos," not that I care for that term. You are certainly not terrible. But we are navigating some difficult terrain, punctuated by daily screaming fits. We can usually get through most of the day, but right around dinner time, logic and reason fail, communication ceases, and you totally fall apart. And then I have to tell you to breathe, to calm down, and tell me what's wrong. Sometimes this works, and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes trying to put what's wrong into words causes you to melt down all over again. These mini-Chernobyls are accompanied by the waving of hands and near-hyperventilation, and it might be comical if it weren't so appalling.

But it's not all high drama. Mostly you play and laugh and read and draw and play some more. A couple of weeks ago, we went to Idaho to visit our extended family. You saw your Great Grandma Ruth, and met some Great Aunts you had never seen before, and after your shyness wore off, you gorged on deviled eggs and baked beans. You swam in the hotel pool and you got to sleep in a big bed with your mom and dad. I'm pretty sure you think that the hotel was "Idaho."

You have an uncanny ability to make me laugh. When you play, you use different voices for your dolls and stuffed animals, to jazz up their conversations. One night, while we were trying to get you to go to sleep in "Idaho," I caught you sticking your finger up your nose. I told you not to pick your nose. Then, you took your dolly's fingers and stuck them in your nose. And I said, "No, dolly, don't pick Penny's nose." So then you made your dolly pick her own nose, saying, in your cute little dolly voice, "Oh! I got boogers!"

And I'm not one to condone booger humor, but this made me laugh until I cried, and you were exceedingly delighted.

Also, you have perfected the evil eye. See?





Meanwhile, your potty chair is collecting dust, because you shun it. So I will continue to (try to) be patient, until you are ready to use it. Because if there's one thing I've learned these past 27 months, is that you will do things when you are good and ready. I'm sorry I get frustrated sometimes; it feels good to say that. We're in this together. You will always be my baby.

Love,
Mom

Independence Day

This 4th of July weekend, two of my cousins came to visit, and there was much rejoicing. Specifically, there were fireworks, sparklers, cupcakes and ice cream cones, and ice cream cones topped with frosting from the cupcakes. And then we went into diabetic comas.


Pre-coma.

There was a moment when we thought Penny might not survive the fireworks display, given how she reacted to some distant fireworks she only heard the night before. She was very concerned, and tearfully told everyone in the family she was scared, but "I ok now," (sniffle). But she was scared. So we spent the next day talking up how cool fireworks are—yes they are noisy, but they're so pretty! We're going to have so much fun, do you know why? Because it's America's birthday! Birthdays are awesome!

We ended up scoring a great spot to watch the show, and Penny was very brave. She even commented on the ones she liked (the green ones). We snuggled together on our blankets and enjoyed the pyrotechnics, oohing and aaahing appropriately. It was fun to go out, stay up late, and be in the throng of people who all came out to celebrate.

Another weekend highlight was the pink dress Penny's Auntie Em got for her, which she now wants to wear every single day. Now I understand why kids show up to school wearing Halloween costumes, it's almost not worth the battle.


The green froggy boots make a fetching ensemble, don't you agree? Not your typical red, white, and blue, but it has a certain quality.


Hugs all around.

I loved being with my family. Games were played, sparklers were lit, and best of all, Penny got to bond with her cousins. Meanwhile, I'm trying not to think about how quickly this summer is passing. Can we squeeze in a few more celebrations before the weather changes and the days get shorter?

The Duck Party

I'm having one of those evenings where I have so many ideas, but instead of doing anything productive, I just want to lie down instead. I realized I never raved about Penny's awesome 2nd birthday party, which was the origin of the fabulous bike (trike). Also, even before Penny turned two, I came up with a cunning plan to address the binky, but I am sorry to say the plan has yet to be implemented. I'm working on it, really. Tomorrow is her 2 year check-up, so I'm sort of hoping to avoid the binky topic altogether, assuming my doctor doesn't notice my shifty eyes, which may betray me.

Anyway, the party. This year I wanted to keep things simple, so I wouldn't feel like pulling out all of my hair. This is a tricky thing. On one hand, I like parties, and we rarely throw them at our house, because we prefer to go to other people's parties. On the other hand, Penny will likely not remember a birthday party at her age. So what's a parent to do? Go all out and go crazy, or keep it low-key? I tried to shoot for a happy medium, because we still like a good party.

I chose a duck theme, because Penny is rather partial to ducks, and many of the songs she likes involve ducks in some way. I also decided to include an end-time for the party, so people wouldn't feel obligated to stay late, and so we wouldn't feel like we had to put on an epic bash. We invited friends who also had children, as well as Penny's family. I wanted Penny to have ample opportunities to play with other kids, seeing as how it was actually her party. I bought a little bubble machine (which sort of worked), and provided kazoos and other musical instruments for the kids, and we played a few rounds of Ring-Around-The-Rosy, Penny's favorite. We also borrowed the slide from Penny's Grandparents' backyard. Fortunately, the weather was good. No freak snowstorms! We would have been utterly screwed if we'd had to move the party indoors!



The crowning achievement was something I didn't even do. A friend of ours offered to make a cake for Penny. I told her we were going for a duck theme, with rubber duckies and kazoos as party favors. This is what she made:



Holy crap. I never could have made this. Now the bar has been raised! And it was tasty, to boot!



Our friends gave generously to Penny. She still hasn't caught the vision of politely opening everyone's presents and thanking them before playing with her new things. In fact, I ended up opening many gifts for her, because she was busy trying to play with whatever had been opened previously. I felt lame doing that, but I didn't want the present-opening to drag on too long. Hopefully next year, she'll have learned some more gift-opening etiquette.

Then came the fabulous trike. Penny had been admiring (and trying to take turns with) her friends' tricycles for the past couple of months, so her Grandparents bought her one of her own. It's very pink, and Penny loves it. I like it too, because now instead of the stroller, we can take the trike to the park. I can walk and get my exercise, and Penny can ride. I can usually coax her into doing a whole lap by rewarding her with the swings afterwards.



It's still a challenge for me to be a good hostess. I never get to talk to friends as much as I want to. I had hoped to play more games with the kids, but I ended up letting everybody do their own thing, instead of being the task master. In the end, Penny blew out her candles to a chorus of "Happy Birthday" hummed on kazoos, so I'd call that a success.

Meanwhile, the cunning binky plan is related to the trike, so when that transpires, I will divulge more.

California Dreamin'

Sometimes I dream of California, and I would live there, if we could afford it, and if I could get used to regularly occurring earthquakes, and if I wouldn't miss the dramatic seasonal changes we have here at home, although after the never-ending winter we've had, maybe I could do without the drama.

Our drive there and back was amazingly smooth, because I focused on keeping Penny fed and entertained. Oh, and we had the binky. She napped a little, but mostly colored pictures with her crayons, read books, sang songs, and talked to her dollies. We made a few pit stops so we could stretch our legs and keep our blood sugar up, and that was the golden ticket.



We stayed one night in Barstow, and were greeted the next day by the eye-popping colors of a state in full bloom. We stayed with my Aunt and Uncle, who graciously put us up in their house, and were treated to the excellent company of two of my cousins, some sight seeing, a trip to the aquarium, a picnic on the beach, and a family game night. It would be unthinkable to get together without playing games!

The weather was gorgeous, and it was fantastic to see the ocean again. Penny handled the beach a little better this time, but was still hesitant to walk on the sand, always keeping one eye on the crashing surf. Eventually, she walked a little on her own (but would not remove her shoes), and dug holes in the sand with some rocks. That's progress, anyway.

Oh yeah, and I worked a bit too, sort of. I attended a conference and it felt good to stimulate my brain and get back in the loop, chat with colleagues, and think about how to apply the things I learned to my job. Meanwhile, Britt and Penny got to spend a lot of time together, without me. (Thanks to my lovely cousin for taking so many beautiful pictures.)










I think they had a good time.

It's always hard to leave when you're having fun, knowing the daily grind is waiting for you at home. The drive back was less fun, but we made one last pit stop to see my good friend in Vegas, and it was a nice overnight respite (hello, hot tub!) before our reluctant return to reality.



I'm amazed at what Penny remembers from the trip. She can recount some of the things we did, like seeing the fish and playing with her cousins (whom she can name), Uncle's train set, the water of the ocean and the sand on the beach. It's all short-term memory recall, but I wonder if she will be able to store these details in her long term memory if we keep talking about them. I wonder how soon we can go back.

Lovely, Love My Family

We were in Las Vegas for Valentine's this year (more on that later), and this song has been repeating itself in my head. Yo Gabba Gabba! continues to be one of Penny's favorite shows (second only to Baby Signing Time), and she insists on watching the "Family" episode over and over and over...mostly because she loves Baby GoGo.

Here's Lovely, Love My Family, by The Roots:



Happy Belated Valentine's Day to you and your sweethearts!

21 Months Old

Dear Penny,

Hello, my Sweet Baboo. My mom used to call me that and I think it's a Charlie Brown reference.

We are hurtling toward age 2 faster than a speeding tantrum, and we've been navigating some time out situations. You haven't had to spend much time in purgatory, yet. You have been saying "Yes" more often and I love to hear that word after so many months of "No." Your favorite book right now is The Elephant and the Bad Baby, which was one of my favorites when I was little (which is why your Auntie M bought it for you). You laugh when we read it because that Bad Baby is pretty funny, and your favorite picture is at the end, when everyone gets to eat pancakes, even the Elephant. Speaking of pancakes, you love to eat yours with jam.

Um, we're going to need some more jam over here.

At dinnertime, you like to eat what we eat (usually), and you like to say "Cheers!" and clink your cup against our glasses. And then you say, "More Cheers!" and we do it again.



You and Daddy are becoming good friends. Not that you weren't already, but I have been in the Number One spot for a long time now, and you are starting to realize that your daddy is pretty cool. You and he were playing with your blocks the other day, and you were telling him all of the words for the pictures on the blocks. He thinks you are amazing. You are the reason he works so hard, and you are the reason his eyes sparkle when he gets home. Sometimes he looks at me, shakes his head, and says, "How did she get so cute? Where did she come from?"

Sometimes I think Daddy is more fun than I am. For one thing, he gives you rides around the house in the laundry basket.

Who will push me?


Daddy will! Vroom!

You love to go to dance class, although you still prefer to watch the other kids before jumping in. You remember things from class and do them at home. Last week you got to hold a pretty leaf in each hand and pretend to be a tree, growing tall, swaying in the breeze, and shaking your leaves. You are an adorable little tree. Today, you spent most of class running back and forth in front of the mirror, with your tongue out, like so:


The best night of the week is when your Aunties and your Uncle P come over to play with you and eat dinner with us. You shriek with joy when they walk in the door. Last weekend was Auntie A's birthday, and you have been singing "Happy Birthday" ever since. I have stopped counting your words because you have well over 100 and I can't keep track anymore. Your best new word is "Awefum," otherwise known as "Awesome."

You are an affectionate little one and it makes my heart melt when you give hugs to your friends and family. You like to hold your cousin's hand when you walk together.

My life would be so dreadfully, painfully dull and lonely without you. I am so lucky to have you. You will always be my baby.

Love,
Mom.