Very Mary

Overheard

Mommy: Sadie, you are such a big girl!

Sadie: Mommy a big girl too!

...And somehow, it just doesn't have the same flattering connotation.

Spaghettios are a food group, right?

I always refer to them as Spaghettios. Even when they are very obviously Alphagetti.

After one bite of Spaghettios, the fancy spoon was discarded in favor of the faster (and much prettier) method of scooping runny fistfuls into her mouth.

So she says, "Almost got it Mommy!"

I'm not gonna lie. If this was anyone else's kid, I'd be thinking, "Disgusting! Somebody please hose that kid down." But my kid? Utterly cute. Even covered in Spaghettio sauce.

Overheard

Sadie: What a commotion!

Which just happens to be a line from her new favorite book, The Adventures of Curious George. If it doesn't have a monkey in it, she'll be hard-pressed to read it.

And here's the little reader herself (never mind the bed head - reading is of utmost importance first thing in the morning, and therefore, takes precedence over more mundane things like combing one's hair):

Twenty-three Months

Dear Sadie,

You started sleeping with a little teddy bear. He's a Classic Pooh, about 8 inches tall, and the perfect size for you to wrap your little arms around. We call him, simply, "Teddy." When I come to get you in the morning or after a nap, I say "Hi Sadie! Did you have a good sleep." You always respond, "Teddy had good sleep toooooooo!" as you hold him up for a kiss.

This month, you rediscovered your little plastic trike, which reappeared amidst a rapidly melting drift of snow.  The best thing about this trike is not how easy it is to ride (feet down, shuffling along with no pedaling required) or its faded but appealing color scheme (red, yellow, and blue) or the name "CHLOE" scrawled onto the bumper in black permanent marker. The best thing about this trike is the comfortable seat. It makes the best seat for watching the neighborhood activities, and you love nothing better than watching the big kids play. When I bring you outside after a nap, often you will stand on the porch waving and yelling, "HI GIRLS!" to your little friends.

We went to McDonald's once. Once. And now, you ask for milkshakes everyday. We can't even drive by McDonald's without you pointing out the golden arches and quietly requesting, "Milkshake?" I can tell that there will be moments when you are not so quiet about this small request.

While grocery shopping, you directed me to the ducky bathroom decor, where you lovingly patted a duck-embroidered bath towel. Call it an impulse purchase, but you, little Martha Stewart, inspired me to gleefully pile ducky-themed everything into the cart and breeze past the checkout with a smile on my face. It was time to remove all traces of the dreaded undersea-seahorse-coral decor from our upstairs bathroom. You were my right hand man, so to speak, and while I painted, you "painted" too. For days and days after you kept saying, "Mommy painting all night. Mommy painting all night." It certainly felt like it.

You adore Curious George and that is all we read these days. When I suggest another book to you, you refuse and request, "Curious George?" Your favorite story and the one you ask to read over and over is Curious George and the Hot Air Balloon. We were absolutely tickled when we saw a real hot air balloon flying over the city. We pulled over to watch it land, and I think you were disappointed to see that there wasn't a curious little monkey peeking out over the edge of the basket.

We celebrated your second Easter, and the Easter Bunny was very diligent this year in making it a memorable holiday. You found 15 plastic and Cadbury eggs (with a little help from Daddy) which translated into an entire tooth-numbing breakfast of chocolate (also with a little help from Daddy). Good luck getting you to eat any real food after that spectacular sugar high. Your Easter basket was stocked with non-candy treats: Baby Einstein books,a Little Critter book, bubbles, Little People, scented chapstick, and sidewalk chalk. Honestly? With the exception of the "lipstick" (chapstick), which you seized immediately, you weren't overly interested in the basket goodies. Distracted, you were just sure that Easter Bunny had hidden a few more eggs somewhere....

And not to be forgotten, when I ask you to give me "the eyes," this is the expression I get:

This month and always, we love and adore you.

Overheard

Sadie: Mommy Booo-tiful.

Excuse me for a second while my heart melts into a big puddle.

And then....

Sadie (holding up her recent Happy Meal toy): Ronald booo-tiful toooooooo!

That's Ronald MCDONALD. In case you were wondering. 

And here is an unrelated photo of Sadie enjoying the new food of the moment: pickles!

 

Overheard

Daddy: Mommy and Daddy love Sadie.

Sadie (very seriously): Mommy and Daddy love biscuits toooooo!

Say what?

Twenty-two Months

Dear Sadie,

Grandma invited us to visit her and though I was very excited, I was dreading the flight to her place. I knew it would be such a long day for you, and I envisioned some screaming, some crying, and one very annoyed stranger sitting next to us. You amazed me by being a complete angel on the way there (the way back was a slightly different story), and I was so proud when the man sitting next to us told me that you were a good little traveler. (He even offered to hold you.) On board the plane and waiting on the runway, you were fascinated by the airplanes. You counted them, "One, Two, Fwee, Five, Ten!" After watching the several planes land, you turned to me and said, "Mommy, 'gain? Pwees?"

You love your Nursery Rhymes. When Mommy recites Humpty Dumpty, you say, "poor Humpty." You like to hear them over and over, and lately, you are able to sing some Nursery Rhymes yourself. I love to hear your little voice singing away, and I tried to record you with Daddy's videocamera, but everytime you see me, you stop singing and point to your book, demanding, "MOMMY, READ!" So, I'll try to capture what you sound like here. Rock-a-bye Baby sounds like this: "rock bye baby in tweetop, win win bows, kadle wiw wock, when kadle bake...." Three Blind Mice sounds like this: "Fwee bind mice, Fwee bind mice...." Jack and Jill sounds like this: "Jack Jill wen uphill, fetch pail water...."

Because all your stuffed animals need to be diapered, I thought you would enjoy playing with a diaper bag set. The little flowered backpack came with a tiny diaper, a bottle with fake milk, a jar of peas with a small spoon, a set of keys, and a small cell phone. The cell phone with its realistic ring tone turned out to be the best part. You especially like calling Unca Todd and Auntie Brandy, and your most memorable conversation went something like this, "Hi Unca Todd. Howie you? Goot. NAME Sadie!" When I try to get you to talk on the real phone though, your eyes get wide, and you hardly whisper a single word. But your message to Daddy at work? "Hi Unca Todd!" 

Chocolate milk was a new taste this month, and it combines two things that you love. You call it a "milkshake," and it has the power to soothe tattered nerves and chase away boredom. Other things that make you happy: swimming on Sundays, playing with your Little People (you call them "animals" and you say, "Mommy, play animals! Sit right der!" while pointing to a spot next to your play table), eating macaroni and cheese, watching the garbage truck, getting your own mail, coloring (you love to color hand-drawn cuckoo clocks and sketches of Uncle Todd), turning light switches on and off (you can reach all of them now), watching airplanes and helicopters, riding the teeter-totter, and getting/giving hugs. Speaking of hugs, you have adopted a commanding tone with which you yell, "Mommy, HUUUUG SADIE!" It makes me smile. I hope you always like me this much.

This month and always, we love and adore you.

Twenty-one Months

Dear Sadie,

Daddy called you Sadie Jane once, and it stuck in your mind, obviously, because that's how you now refer to yourself. "Sadie Jane eating lunch. Sadie Jane CUTE! Sadie Jane walking downstairs. Sadie Jane hug Mommy! Sadie Jane help you. Sadie Jane read books!" 

Speaking of books, you got a new one: Sesame Street's ABC's and 123's, and you have decided that Ernie is quite possibly the funniest character ever. "Ooonie! Funny!Ooonie! Funny!" I'm not sure why you decided he is the greatest, but you point him out on every page, and at various times, you demand to read the "Ooonie book!" Books in general are a favorite toy, and you pull book after book off your shelf, alternately paging through them yourself or demanding they be read to you.

You like to "show me your pipes." You learned that from Daddy. You hold your arms out and grunt like you're lifting a heavy weight. And then you want to see everyone else's "pipes." You think it's hysterical when Daddy has Howie and Owen (the pugs) show you their "pipes." Who knew the dogs had been working out so much?

You still play Simon Says at the dinner table, but you've added a few moves. And you expect them done perfectly, or you get upset. What else is happening at the dinner table? Hmmm...some picky eating, that's for sure. I try to make things I think you will love (like mashed potatoes), but you clamp your lips shut and stubbornly turn your face away. I think you actually believe that if you ignore me, I might retreat and come back with ice cream, cookies, and a side of Rice Krispie Treats. No such luck, little champ. I am stubborn too. It just so happens to run in the family, you know. You aren't starving though. You have decided that macaroni and cheese (from the blue box), yogurt, carrots, ravioli, turkey sandwiches, Spaghettio's, waffles, and all berries (except blueberries which are officially categorized as disgusting) are on the list, so while I am disappointed about the homemade macaroni and cheese that you spit out and the mashed potatoes that are proclaimed "garbage," I have to admit I am just happy that you are eating something. For a while there, I was wondering if it was possible to survive on milk and strawberries.

The drama card is being played around here. If you bump your head or fall down, it has suddenly become an all-out tragedy, with you begging to be hugged and crying, "Sadie Jane KY-ING. Sadie Jane KY-ING! Seee. Seeeeee. Mirror." And then of course, when you see yourself, you watch intently and cry that much harder to prove that drama is important indeed.

You love to play with your Crayons, though most of the time you don't actually color anything. You simply remove them from the box, peel off their paper wrappers and yell, "Cay-nuns Neh-nek!" Translation: Naked crayons!

Music is no longer "moos-ing," but is instead "dance music." And it is an important part of our day. I see some sort of dance lessons in your future, simply because you love to groove.

You also love to brush your own teeth (you almost have all your canines now). When we finish brushing your teeth before bedtime, you say, "Sadie's toyn" and you stand before the mirror, smiling to yourself and brushing your own teeth. It isn't long before you tire of that though, and brush Winnie's teeth and your baby doll's teeth and all your kittie's teeth and then, of course, you move on to Mommy and Daddy's teeth. Apparently, you are a lover of oral hygiene. 

We weren't planning to let you watch TV until you turned two. But at Christmas time, you watched a bit of The Polar Express. And then you watched a bit of Baby Einstein. And now...well, let's just say you don't let a potential TV-watching opportunity slide by unnoticed and unexclaimed, "WATCH TV! BABY EINSTEIN. WATCH PROGRAMS!" You simply adore Baby Einstein, and you love to narrate by identifying the animals, numbers and colors on the screen, so I sincerely hope you are learning something more than how to be a couch potato.

With a little balance assistance from Mommy, you walk down the stairs now. (Is it really possible that less than two years ago, you couldn't even hold your head up? Sigh.) I know it won't be very long before you won't need my help at all, so forgive me if I squeeze you a little too close in the next few months years. I just can't help it.

This month and always, we love and adore you.

Overheard

Sadie: "I like it NO."

Translation: I don't like it.

Most often used during mealtime to explain the food recently spit out and oozing in slow globs down her chin.

Obviously not in reference to this tasty piece of Rice Krispie treat:

Be Mine, Valentine

 I won't lie. My Valentine gifts came direct from Wal-mart.

 

I had good intentions of making something cute and sweet that you could press to your bosom and sigh, "love." But instead, I roared around Wal-mart tossing things into the cart at a frenzied speed. Such is my shopping manner these days.

 

The sunglasses were good.

    

But the chocolate was better.

         

Especially Daddy's.

 

Nothing says love like a box of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

 

And of course, it just wouldn't be Valentine's without a little sugar, no?