Talking Back

Reese: I want to touch Miles’s bum bum

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Me: Reese if you don’t stop drinking the bath water out of that cup I am going to take the cup away.

<starts drinking bath water straight from the tub>

Reese: Mama gonna take the tub away?

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Me: <One morning, after watching Reese pick up something off the floor and eat it> Reese, what is in your mouth?

Reese: It’s probably a piece of my dinner.

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Reese: Are you ok, Jackie? <said to me in an ultra sympathetic/almost mocking voice, with head cocked to the side>

Big Girl Beds

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Andrew and I had been talking about moving Reese out of the nursery and into one of our spare bedrooms for awhile. We thought it would be best to transition her from a crib to a bed before baby # 2 came, but I was procrastinating because I wasn’t sure she was ready.

Just before New Year’s, in a momentary episode of panic that occurred when I realized that the baby would be here in less than 2 months, we set up a twin mattress on the floor of Reese’s new bedroom.

We didn’t put anything else in there aside from the mattress. Too risky.

On multiple occasions in the nursery, I had witnessed Reese take down her humidifier, stand up and surf on her glider, try to swing from her curtains, and attempt to pick up and move her diaper pail. God knows what she would do when left to her own devices all night.

I had serious angst about this. Visions of her busting out of the room and wreaking havoc on our upstairs, or worse, trying (and succeeding) in opening the baby gate and falling down the stairs haunted me.

Before bedtime that first night, we realized that we would have to have her monitor and her CD player (she refuses to go to bed without her music playing) on the floor of her room. I told Reese that after stories Mom and Dad would leave the room and Reese should stay in her bed and sleep.

Yea right. I felt ridiculous even saying this to her. I know she was laughing at me on the inside.

This is how the first night went.

7:15 – Andrew comes downstairs after reading Reese stories.

7:18 PM – We hear a clicking noise and the monitor goes off. Andrew goes up to turn it back on. He opens the door to find a small individual, clad in a snowman onesie, hunched over the monitor. Upon seeing him in the doorway she quickly darts back to her bed. Andrew turns the monitor back on.

7:20 PM – He goes back downstairs and the monitor is promptly turned off again. He goes upstairs and takes it out of her room.

7:25 PM – After refusing to go the night without a monitor, I go back upstairs and set it up outside of her door, hoping we will at least hear her if she gets out of the room. While I am setting it up, I hear a loud fumbling with the doorknob and a small, pathetic little voice saying,  “I need some help with the door.”
I go into the room and lay with Reese until 7: 50 PM. She babbles for thirty minutes next to me in the bed. Some snippets from this convo with herself include “I eat ALL the chocolate chips”, “We allllllllll sleeping in the bed”, and “Where’s the Mama monkey?” When I tell her I am going to leave she wraps her arms around my neck and pleads for me to sleep in the bed with her. My heart is ripped from my chest.

7:58 PM – I leave the room after succumbing to requests for more books and following instructions on which stuffed animals should be put in the bed with her. She also throws her pillow at me and says “no pillow!” There are a few moans, a little crying, and then when I get back downstairs we hear silence through the monitor. Silence is the scariest thing to hear. I don’t know if there is silence because she’s actually being quiet and settling down, or if we just can’t hear her through the door. We hear various other bumps and thumps over the next hour or so, but no crying, so we are good.

10 PM – I peek into the room to find Reese asleep in the bed, on top of all the covers, using her Elmo as a pillow. Victory.

I feel that we got off pretty easy that first night. The second night was similar to the first, except with the monitor being taken from the room, she focused her attention on her CD player. She kept turning up the volume and blasting her nursery rhymes until they echoed through our house.

Now, the novelty of the room seems to have worn off and she usually just goes right to sleep after stories. She does wake up in the night sometimes, which she never did before, and scares the crap out of me when she shows up next to my bed, two inches from my face; but it doesn’t happen too often. When it does, she refuses my offers to come into our bed and insists that I lay with her in the “big girl bed.”  And so I roll myself out of bed, flop onto the mattress on the floor and snuggle up with Reese, all three Elmos, Zoe, Cookie Monster, Big Bird, Nahla, Froggy and the Octopus until she is able to drift off to sleep again.

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Talking Back

Me: Reese you did such a good job with your dinner. That makes me so happy!

Reese: I feel pride
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Reese: We goin’ to Gammy an Grandpa’s house. I wear my necklace, my earrings and my ring.
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Reese <to me, while I’m holding my cousin’s new baby>: That baby wants to get down!
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Reese: Mama’s belly has a baby

Me: That’s right, it’s your little brother or sister.

Reese: I don’t like the baby.

Awesome.

Halloween. 3 Weeks Later.

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Some belated Halloween pictures from Reese’s first time trick-or-treating.

We went with some neighborhood friends and as you can see, Reese tore up the town.

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In the week leading up to Halloween we talked a lot about how we would go out that night, ride in the wagon, knock on people’s doors and say “trick-or-treat!” After our first house I realized that I had left out some important info, namely the fact that we don’t bomb into the people’s houses, we just wait in the doorway. Also, the people will usually hand us the candy and we don’t have to grab the bowl from their hands, force it down to our level, and help ourselves. Turns out Reese is an aggressive trick-or-treater.

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Little Things

My first purchase for our new little one.

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I love it.

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Searching for the perfect mobile for baby’s room was one of the first things I did for both babies. With Reese, and now with baby # 2, we did not find out the gender, so nursery décor could be challenging, but Etsy never fails me.

Here is Reese’s mobile.

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After being moved from above her crib to above her changing table, this no longer hangs in her room. Once she started being able to reach up and grab it we took it down and I never found another spot that seemed right for it.

It is still one of my  favorite little things and I don’t plan to pack it away anytime soon. I hope to find a spot for it in Reese’s new room; a small reminder of  babyhood that is still cool enough to hang in a “big girl” room.

No

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Unfortunately, we say this word around our house. A lot.

If you think about it, a 1.5 year old is basically not allowed to do anything. They can’t open the cabinets, they can’t drink the bathwater, they can’t stand up on their “bikes”, they can’t go outside with no shoes on, they can’t go up/down the stairs, they can’t run wildly through public places, they can’t cut the line of 4 kids waiting to use the slide, they can’t hit the dog, they can’t open the oven, and they can’t eat their hair clips/socks/mom’s glasses/an entire jar of peanut butter. Really, what else is left in life?

I never really noticed how much we use the word “no” until Reese started saying it back to us. It was one of her first few words.

When she was younger, she used to say it randomly, or say it while doing something she knew she was not supposed to be doing. She would run up to the electrical sockets, touch them, look at us, and say “No, no.”

Now, she has discovered that “no” can also be the answer to a question. She has decided that it is the answer to every question.

Sunday morning, she grabbed my cell phone off of our coffee table, ran over to her toys and stuck it inside of her toy airplane.

“Reese, can you please bring my phone back over to me”, I asked, expecting her to either ignore me, or, if I was lucky, to actually bring it back to me. Instead, she kept her back to me, looked over her shoulder at me and said, “No.” Then continued trying to shove the phone in the front seat of the plane.

Um, what? This was actually pretty funny because she said it so nonchalantly, and it threw me. As if we were just having a conversation and she was letting me know that, yes, she had heard my request, and no, she would not be honoring it.

Suddenly, the sound of my own parents voices years ago saying, “Don’t tell me no”, rang in my ears. It actually is pretty annoying when your kid just flat out tells you that they will not be listening to you, or even better, acts like you aren’t even there at all and continues eating her hair clip with reckless abandon. Awesome.

Mother’s Day 2013

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My Mother’s Day was spent at my favorite place with some of my favorite people. It was full of all the good stuff; a patio lunch, playtime with cousin, wagon rides, cobbler and ice cream.

Pean

This month, Reese’s favorite thing is peanut butter. She wants it on everything. Anything we have ever given to her with peanut butter on it, she now refuses to eat plain. I get where she’s coming from.

Being 16 months old and all, she can’t say “peanut butter” yet, so she has shortened it (she’s her mother’s daughter) to a simple, yet unbecoming, “pean.”

She asks for it 24/7, and always with a hint of frenzied panic in her voice, as if she’s anticipating NOT getting pean and is warning us of what will happen if she doesn’t.

All. Day. Long.

The word has become such a part of our everyday language that we forget it doesn’t carry the best connotations. These are what a lot of the conversations in our world sound like.

“No pean”

“Do you want some more pean?”

“We’re not having pean right now”

“Ok, we’ll get you your pean”

“No more pean today”

“Pean’s all gone”

“They don’t have pean here”

I know I’m a grown up now and words like “pean” probably shouldn’t make me laugh anymore, but they do, ok? Sometimes I wonder what other people think when we are out in the world and my daughter is furiously throwing her rice cakes on the floor, screaming for “peeeaaannnnn” as I dig through my diaper bag for the full-sized jar of Jif that now lives there.

Hopefully, they just think it’s funny. Because it is. It’s hilarious.

On Scary Elmo Bubblebaths

Nary a day goes by where I do not fear that I have scarred my daughter in some way. Last night was no different.

I bought some Elmo bubblebath this weekend thinking I was the bomb mom, and we tried it out last night.

Apparently, when you have never seen bubbles before, they can be scary. It kind of makes sense I guess. Normally your mom puts you in a bath with clear water where you can see all your toys and body parts, then one day she puts you in a bath full of white stuff and acts like its NBD.

Reese freaked out when I stood her up in the tub full of bubbles. She began saying “No! No! Nooooooooo!”, pointing at the bathroom door and trying to climb out of the tub with a look of panic on her face. Being out of the tub was not enough; the sight of the bubbles was too much and we had to leave the bathroom completely.

Getting back in took a few tries. I mean the bubbles were still in the tub, so I don’t really blame her. She kept looking at me with the saddest face imaginable and saying, “bubbles.”  Normally, bath time is one of her favorite parts of the day, so I’m sure she was internally cursing me for screwing with it.

Finally, with her screaming all the while, I charged back into the bathroom and drained the tub of the cursed bubbles. I eventually got her back into the tub with just water, but it wasn’t the same. She was extremely cautious and inspected her bath toys, the water, and the wash cloth suspiciously.

Hopefully one day she will be able to forget this incident and won’t end up being the weird kid in school who is afraid of bubbles.

Here’s Reese in happier bath times.

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