NO!

1.29.10

No's have entered the picture in the last few weeks. I really don’t mind all the 'no's. I understand their place in your development, and I think it is really cute to watch you walking around the house with so much attitude, swinging articles of clothing around you in a wide arc while mantra-ing 'n' no 'no!' NO! no! You are asserting your individuality. Your individuality is just ricocheting off the walls. What I am learning from this, is that in the course of the day I ask you quite literally a ton of questions. Our day is posed as a series of inquiries: Sava, do you want to go for a walk? Would you like to eat something? Do you want to take a bath? Do you love your little doggy so much? Almost every sentence ends with an uplift, as if I am trying to be cheerful, light, and accomodating when truthfuly I am just laying down the agenda. Up until now, your acquiesential (is that even a word) nature has allowed this mirage of co-determination, But now that you realize you have the power of negation, all bets are off. So: My lesson this week is to try to only ask you things that you truly have a choice about, and to repattern my language so that I am informing you (gently and kindly) what we are about to do.

You went through a spell, up in the San Juans this January, of hitting me in the face when I would tell you that we couldn't nurse. That was really fun... but luckily Grandma was there, and we discovered "Time-out" technology. It took about three weeks, but you have stopped hitting me. For which I am thankful.

Today we watered the plants together, and I let you use the ceramic watering pot to water two plants (both placed on top of a towel on the bathroom floor). (You have been wanting to do everything yourself lately, including wiping your own high-chair tray, wiping your own bottom during a diaper change, etc.) You were great, concentrating really hard, and even got a fair amount on the soil and not on the towel. Then, we made homemade play-doh (well, I made it as you clung yelling and screaming to my legs- it was a bit of a trying morning) and then we played with it for awhile while it slowly cooled in our hands. We were set up on the table in the living room (also covered in a towel) and it seemed an excrutiating exercise for you to avoid the overwhelming temptation to pull off little edible chunks and pop them in your mouth. To be honest, you didn't try very hard actually, it was more a battle of which one of us was quicker with our hands to your mouth. We pressed the egg timer into it, we made star shapes and gingerbread men, and we made a cave into which it was your job to take the balls I would form and press them into the hole, and that was the most fun, and most effective at taking your mind off play-doh's uncanny, salty-cousin relationship to cookie dough. When daddy came home, he came up with the brilliant idea of rolling the play-doh into a snake, and started singing a snake-chant. You were mesmerized. I have to say, your daddy is cool.

1/28/09

Oh man, the cutest going-to-sleep ritual ever. We came home from the gym a little late: 7:30( you were really happy at the gym, showing us all your favorite toys (the scooch-along car, the wooden schoolbus activity center, the mega blocks) and not really seeming to want to leave.) Back home, I wanted to get you fed, so we all ate toasted sourdough bread (baked this morning) with cashew butter, and you were amusing yourself by dipping your bread in your glass of water and then eating it. I told Jamba that I was horrified that you had picked up this particular genetic trait from him, as I consider it revolting, (he prefers dipping his nut butter sandwiches in soymilk, or even worse, his bowl of cereal) but he of course was delighted, and smugly told me 'just wait until she discovers milk'. You were also having a ton of fun leaning down over your glass and picking it up by the rim with your teeth, and drinking that way, no hands. We had to clap for you: it truly was a pretty extraordinary accomplishment, and so that initiated a round of spontaneous hand clapping.. one of your favorite old games that we haven't done in a while. Then a really quick storm of drawing, with the new washable markers we got today (finally- a satisfying art medium!) Then it was up to bed, and you just screeching around and laughing and giggling and assaulting us both with kisses. Then you pointed to my lips and then to Daddy's cheek, and I realized you were telling me to give him a kiss, so we obliged, and engaged in three way kisses: you kissed me: I kissed daddy, you kissed daddy, in sequence. It was so sweet. At one point you actually drove me back deep into the pile of pillows with the most voluptous, lip biting series of kisses ever. It was almost a little frightening, and part of that was realizing how strong you are getting, and how hard I had to work to keep your head from engulfing my face. But cute. Very cute. And slobbery.

Anyway, when we finally got you into the crib, we put our new 'Napoleon Dynamite' talking doll in with you, and you were sitting happily staring at him as Daddy was kissing your head, and you pushed the the button in Napoleon's hand and he said in a low voice 'So you and I are pretty much friends at this point, right?' It was such hilarious timing, we both about dissolved in tears. We left you sitting there in the dark, hiccuping contentedly and staring at him or at the ladybug casting her red stars on the walls of the room, and didn't hear another peep.
-Erin