Friday, September 6, 2013

Elise, 20 months

It's been a while since I wrote an Elise update post... where do I even begin? My sweet, funny, loving, easygoing*, mild-mannered*, even-tempered* tow-headed, blue-eyed baby girl. The past few months have heralded an expanded vocabulary, but you still are not much of a talker. You understand EVERYTHING, and give me that sly grin that shows me you know exactly what we're talking about whether you chose to acknowledge it or not. Some of my favorite words currently are:
Two-tol (turtle)
Peez? (Please?)
Upeez (Up, please)
Kacka (Cracker)
Nigh-nigh (you'll cover anything up and tell it night-night, including your knee with a washcloth in the bathtub... "Nigh-nigh Nee")
Boo-boo (accompanied by a finger pointing to the injury and a pitiful lip-protruding pout)
Eh-Beh (Elle-Belle): In the mornings when you wake up you'll call for Mommy several times, then switch to calling for "Eh-Beh" who usually can be counted on to rescue you from Crib Prison
Eat. I have a love/hate relationship with this one. While it's adorable to hear you proclaim "Eat! Eat!", we have started to spell any words in the food, eating, breakfast/lunch/dinner/snack family as any of these will send you into a impassioned run into the kitchen to the counter or fridge demanding the advertised product. We don't dare bring up the topic of food unless we are prepared to serve you some immediately. So, yes, you still love food. You continue to be an adventurous and exceptional eater. For now, daycare is still ok with me packing your food so I'll continue to do that as long as you don't seem to feel "different" than the other kids. One of the other kids in your class brings lunch too, so for now I'm staying the course. 

Vacation Mac-n-cheese treat

You have the most adorable "run", which is very much like a geriatric mall-walker's fast paced gait, slightly off-kilter, and always with your left arm paddling back and forth as if pulling you along. Cracks us up every time.


We've had several months of glorious sleep habits. I give you a bath, put on pjs, read to you, sing a song, lay you down with a kiss and you smile back at me and roll over to sleep. Effortless. Same thing for naps. No hours of crying in protest. Perhaps I should have written this post last week, because lately you've been a putting up a little more fight at bedtime and naptime. I think this stems from the wicked case of separation anxiety you've developed recently. I thought perhaps we'd escaped with only a mild case of this earlier, but I guess you were just holding out. For the last couple of weeks, I can't turn my back to you, nevertheless walk out of the room or leave you without crazy screaming, crying, and gnashing of teeth. 


*The recent onset of separation anxiety has slightly mitigated your easygoing, mild-mannered, and even-tempered qualities. You also seem to be more easily frustrated at your inability to communicate exactly what you want, and at my refusal at times to agree to what you want. Maybe terrible two's are approaching, but I'm crossing my fingers this is just a minor bump in the road and you'll continue to be a laidback toddler. 


I can't adequately describe your wit, but anyone who spends time with you picks up on it immediately. When putting you to bed one night, I turned around to walk out of the room and heard you grunting for my attention. I looked back to see your little foot stuck through the bars in your crib. I rushed back to your side, removed the extremity, and gave you a kiss. Reattempted the exit. Halfway to the door I hear you whining again. Look back, and your foot is yet again protruding through the bars and you are smiling slyly. I laughed, and fixed the problem one more time. This happened several times, with both of us cracking up every time. This routine recurred for several nights, and even weeks later you occasionally try to pull the same trick. 


One evening after bath, I had you on the changing table putting on your diaper. You pointed down at the diaper and said "Gaaaa", then proceeded to produce gas and cackle. I credit your Dad for this skill.

You like to be outdoors, and much to your father's delight you seem to have an affection for the garage and car-related things. You will ask for the van door to be opened so you can climb into the driver's seat and play indefinitely. Maybe you will be your dad's car lover. 


You love shoes. Particularly other people's shoes. At Kiawah, instead of playing in the pool, you chose to meander from lounge chair to lounge chair pilfering other guests' flip flops. Explaining to you that trying on and walking in other people's footwear was not socially acceptable behavior was not met with the rational acceptance one might hope. 

You love books. Sometimes you ask for a book at bedtime and are happy to "read" it until you fall asleep. I found you one morning reading to your baby in bed. Heart. Melted. Uterus. Swelled. 


One night after dinner you were riding your bike and suddenly demanded to go back inside. I obliged at your sense of urgency, only to see you re-emerge wearing these oven mitts from your play kitchen. For some reason it was necessary to wear them for the ride. Didn't know those plastic handlebars could get that hot...


You love hats, helmets, and head adornments of any kind.


You are adored by family, friends, daycare teachers, and complete strangers. Something about you just draws people in, and I love that about you.


Your smile is infectious. 


I am in complete denial that you are nearing your 2nd birthday. What a joy you are to our family, and to everyone who knows you. I love you with all my heart, little E. 

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