a girl, a guy, a tomato, a bean, and a bear

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

La la la la! La la la la! Evie's words!

First of all, if you caught the reference in the title, I'm sorry.

And now, on to the list. These are most of the words that I can recall Evie now says unprompted. First, her version and then in parenthesis the actual word, in case for some reason it is unclear to you what she's saying:

  • Day-too! (thank you!)
  • El-com (you're welcome)
  • Ma-ie (Mommy)
  • Daa-ie (Daddy)
  • Dar (Chokydar)
  • Elmo (Elmo)
  • Boh/boht (bottle)
  • Peat! (please!)
  • Book (book)
  • Boot (hippopotamus. No, I'm just kidding. Boot.)
  • Shu (shoe)
  • Bebe (Bebe)
  • Pou-puh (Pound Puppy)
  • Bye (bye)
  • Hi (hi)
  • Pa-ie (potty)
  • No (NO)
  • DES! (yes)
  • Doos (juice)
  • Meow (meow)
  • oof (woof)
  • dun! (done)
  • gara (garage)
  • ipah (iPod)
  • bana (banana)
  • mote (remote)
  • ibow (eyebrow)
  • iye (eye)
  • mou (mouth)
  • nos (nose)
  • buhsh (brush)
  • wshh (wash)
  • fnn (fan)
  • down (down)
  • UH UH! (whatever she is pointing at...)
I'm sure I'm missing a few...perhaps I'll come back and add them as they come to me.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

17, 18, 19 +1






rocking moose






Dear Evelyn,

It almost seems foolish to apologize. I think I just need to accept that I'm no good at getting these letters out on time anymore and move on. I actually began writing this about three weeks ago. I'd missed two months and thought I'd better just write something, but alas, I never finished it. So the letter today is a bit of a mess. I can't remember exactly what all has happened since November. It's been a lot. I can't tell you really how your 17th month was different from your 18th. I've lost track of it all, but it needs to be documented somehow, because your growth and progress is astonishing, and if I can't keep track of it three months later, how in the world will I remember in twenty years unless I write it down now?

Where to even begin? Your problem solving and mimicry skills are through the roof. We can't say something without you repeating it. When I brush my hair, you want to brush yours. You brush your teeth when I do (and with a zeal that is quite surprising). You use your toy keys to "start" the rocking moose before riding. You imitate animal noises without prompting. You try on my shoes. You blow on your food.

I've read that kids like to be helpers around this age, and you must have read it too, because you LOVE to help. You pick up stray pieces of Chokydar's food and put them back in her bowl. (That's gross to me, btw.) You hand me clean dishes out of the washer. You put wet clothes into the dryer for me. You help me sort socks. You put things back in drawers and cabinets. This, of course, is after you have systematically emptied said drawer/cabinet of its entire contents. I'm beginning to understand and sympathize with my mother's explanation for anything that went missing around the house: "That girl! Michele must have taken it!" I'm sorry, mother! You take trash to the can, open the lid and throw it away. You reprogram my cell phone's ringtones. Okay, wait, that one is not too helpful.

There have been some new additions to our lives these past few months. It seems ridiculous that we were ever without them now...Elmo is now a member of the family via dvd. And you love him. We love him less. Grover was always my favorite muppet, and I have covert plans to introduce you to Grover in hopes of changing your allegiance. Secondly, my good friend Kat gave you a doll when we visited Jersey that has since been named "Bebe" that is your FAVORITE toy. You sleep with Bebe (pound puppy still too, just Bebe has joined the pack), frequently eat with Bebe, talk to Bebe, travel with Bebe, "wash" Bebe's hands and face, and have administered "medicine" to Bebe. This of course, is also something new in these past few months--the emergence of your imagination. Your pretend play is wonderful to watch and also quite a relief, as you've stopped actually eating your wooden fruit and veggie play set in favor of pretend nibbling on it. There are accompanying sound effects.

You wave bye-bye to "Daa-ie" every morning when he leaves for work and squeal with delight when he comes home again. You love trips to the park and going outside. You have a fascination with pine cones. You have A LOT of teeth now. I've lost count. You are a charmer; strangers love you, as well as those who know you, of course. You can also be a drama queen. I hear that's karma coming back to get me from my childhood. I gave you your first haircut--gosh, back in November now? December? I saved the baby hairs, but now I can't remember where I put them... You play with ipod apps. You place our hands on your tummy and hold them there when we cuddle. You've been sleeping extremely well--usually until about 7 am and go to bed without a peep about 7-7:30 pm.

Nineteen months. It's hard to wrap my head around it.

I still love you more every day.



Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Three cheers for the bobby pin.

Main Entry: bobby pin
Function: noun
Etymology: perhaps from bob
Date: 1926
: a flat wire hairpin with prongs that press close together

...What Merriam-Webster left out was ": sometimes used in amazing feats of ingenuity."

It was a matter of weeks ago when I mentioned to Justin one of Evie's latest developments that had occurred while he was away at work:

"Watch out," I said, "Evie likes to close doors now, only she can't yet manage to open them again and if any of the doors have locks on them she might be able to lock herself in."

I mentioned this especially because I have vivid memories of my brother, sister and I playing with the door locks growing up. In one memorable instance, John dared Denise and I that he could escape, Houdini style from being bound in a chair and locked inside the hall bathroom. I'm going to go ahead and say that he dared us. It is possible that we just tied him up and locked him in the bathroom. He was having a good time though, until it became apparent that he, in fact, could not escape the knots we'd secured and he started wailing for help. We, of course, panicked, realizing the trouble we'd be in since the door was locked from the inside. My mother rushed down the hallway, alerted by John's shouts to the situation, and assessed the situation.

Now, I think to most children, their parents seem to know everything, but my mother really had some neat tricks up her sleeve. She can sew, build, or solve just about anything you need her to, and armed with a credit card and a bobby pin, she jimmied the lock open on that bathroom door within about a minute.

Fast forward twenty years or so. Friday night, I'm getting ready for the opening of the LCT Benefit. Justin's in the kitchen fixing dinner while I tease and spray my hair and apply gobs of stage makeup. Evie is running back and forth between the two of us, giggling her head off. Every few minutes I take a break to chase her down the hall, sending her squealing. We both have an eye on her, but only one eye each, which of course, leaves room for trouble.

She began playing a favorite game of hers: she goes into her bedroom, pushes the door closed then goes and climbs into the rocking chair. I come, open the door and peek in, and she, miffed at the intrusion on her privacy, climbs down from the chair, crosses the room and shuts the door once more, closing me out.

There I go, back and forth, getting ready, peeking in, until the time that I go to turn the knob and it won't budge. Locked. I momentarily panic and kick myself for KNOWING BETTER, but E hasn't yet figured out that she can't get out. I call to Justin to find--what else, a credit card and a bobby pin--and Evie starts trying to open the door, realizing that she can't.

Justin arrives with the bobby pin and credit card and looks at them doubtfully.

"Doesn't that sort of thing only work in the movies?" he asked.

"No. I know for a fact this can work," I replied. And sure enough, after a few moments of fiddling with the lock with my trusty bobby, I managed to unlock the door. Evie came out and hugged us both, although I have a feeling the ordeal wasn't enough to deter her from trying that sort of thing again.

For my part, I felt both a little like MacGyver...and also an idiot.
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