Portrait

The only show Mommy lets me watch on TV is Golden Girls. I suppose it's starting to show.

What, you don't like my hot-rolled hair and wacky-print shift?

It's almost summer!

--but you'd hardly know it from the chilly weather we've been having. So I've been spending a lot of time hanging out in my newly refinished playroom/basement/office (I have to share it with my parents; the office chairs are theirs, not mine).


The only thing missing is a full-length mirror. I've taken to wandering in front of the one upstairs, in the buff. It's great fun to lift my legs up and pose in all kinds of strange positions while watching myself in the mirror. Naked time! Mom says she hopes I never lose that confidence. I don't intend to, and I feel sorry for anyone who does.

Rabbit rabbit!

Gaah! Here we are into April already and no post for over a month. My apologies! Life has been busy, to say the least. My 'rents went to Australia and I went up north to stay with Mimi and Grandpa Ray. My cousins Kate and Siri came up to stay, and hoo boy, that was an eventful week. Siri and I are only 2 weeks apart, so we're like twins, almost. (Siri's mommy is my daddy's sister -- convoluted, I know... still trying to get my head around that.) Anyway, Siri and I are buddies, as illustrated in this pic. I'm not much of a hugger, so you KNOW I like her.

I'm Two!

As of February 21, I'm two years old. Two!! Twice as many as one, infinitely as many as zero. Or so my mommy says. When I was one and a half, she taught me to say "one and a half, going on two" whenever anyone asked me how old I was. Now I can't seem to get that out of my head. She's been trying to reprogram me to say "I'm two years old," but it's just not catching. What I can do, though, is recite the first 20 or so lines from The Jabberwocky, which I think more than makes up for it. Don't you?

Matching Jammies

My Grandma Susie and Grandpa Bob sent these coordinating jammies for Cowgirl and me. As you can see, they have personalized poop hatches. I can't wait to put mine to the potty-training test. As for Cowgirl's, well... this should be interesting.

Serene

A few weeks ago I had my first modeling assignment ever. There were three costume changes, and nothing for refreshment except a packet of mini Fig Newtons and some water. It was grueling. But you'd never know it from my face, would you? Score one for my innate acting skills. Or should that be score one for the photographer's skills?

Enter December

How did we pass a whole month without a picture? Look alive, Mommy, please. If you miss the opportunity to document even a moment of my childhood I'll forever have an empty place in my heart.

So--new picture for December?

Excellent.

Long Time No See

My mother, bless her aging heart, forgot my login and password. Thankfully a glass of wine recalled everything. Anyway, here's a recent picture she took of me. Mom believes I look good in warm colors like yellow and orange, and I have to say, I think she's right--hence the smile.

Cotlam*

I started school again this past Monday. I graduated from the infant classroom to the toddler classroom. You might think our maturity would make for a smooth transition, but you would be wrong. There are 12 of us, and let me tell you, it's like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest in there. Max, Shaheen, Ava, and Gaia are having an especially hard time adjusting. They spend hours on end wailing for their mommies. Crying babies pass out and sleep, but toddlers have all this energy so they can go on forever. At least I get to hear "MAMA" screeched out in multiple languages. That's got to be good for my linguistic development, right?


*That's my mom's idea of a joke. "Cot" is supposed to replace "bed," because we sleep on cots at school. I don't get it, but you might.

Mama thinks I look like Damien from The Omen here. I don't know what that means, but when she said it I got a strange little thrill, like I could use this intense facial expression to my advantage, you know, like, "What do you think I'm going to do with this cloth? Nothing? Are you sure? Want me to place it over your face? No? Then bring me some graham crackers."

Upstaged

...by a stupid lizard puppet.

I need to be more of a camera hog.

Swim Diapers

They're not just for containing toxic waste anymore.

Behind Bars

Do you have any idea how thrilling it is to crawl into a tiny dog kennel (we're talking dinky, terrier-sized), close the gate behind you, and just sit there while your parents take pictures? And--and--to not even mind the smell, because it's comforting and familiar, like the smell of the Goodnight Moon bunny whose ears you suck while falling asleep, the one your mom calls Manky Bunny, the same one your grandma had to replace because you ruined the first one beyond the redemptive power of the washing machine by attempting to feed it oatmeal?

That's the one, yeah. Go on, hug it. Life has many comforts: enjoy them wherever you find them.

Oblivious

See that blob of schmutz on my shirt? I have no idea how it got there. That's the beauty of being a baby: don't know, don't care.

Derby Day

So... Mommy and Daddy took me to a "Kentucky Derby" party this past weekend where everyone stared at the television while a bunch of horses (they say NEIGH) ran around a track. I guess the idea was to see which horse was the fastest. Still, I didn't really get it. It was over so quickly, and what was with the flower in your hair, Mommy, and why wouldn't you let me pull it out? The only okay part of the whole afternoon was playing in the backyard with bubbles while Mommy and Daddy sipped at glasses full of brownish water, mint leaves, and ice. They seemed really happy when we left. Glad someone had a good time.

Mommy was in Alaska this weekend, so Daddy took me up to Madison to hang with Auntie Sarah and Uncle Matt and Auntie Katie and Grandpa Ray (a.k.a. Gamma Ray) and my cousins Kate and Siri. (That's Siri, not Suri. Siri is the Norwegian nickname for Sigrid. Suri is some weird thing Scientologists call their kids.) We had so much fun! There was actually a horse in the house. Its name was Georgia and it slept in the bathtub and left huge clots of golden fur in the corners. Since I'm still eating whatever I find on the floor, I sampled some. Tasted like dog. Oh--also, I had fun sticking my finger in an ant hill and eating the grit. Just like Fun Dip!

Eat My Dust

I'm walking. I'm walking! Hahahahahaha!

Okay, so I'm not "proficient" or "competent" or even "steady," but so what? Use whatever adverbs you want: tentatively, awkwardly, drunkenly -- it's still walking, and I'M the one doing it. Ha-HA!

When do I get my motorcycle?

Movin' on Up

Well, everyone, it's finally happened: I've graduated to size 4 Pampers Cruisers. The 3s were working fine, but then I started leaking at night. Not fun. My mom has no idea how such a teeny body can hold--and evacuate--so much pee and poop. Such is the miracle of me. Speaking of miracles, I've recently learned to say the word "baby." And "star" (which I'm saying in the picture above). And "grapes," which I demand at every meal. Only the word doesn't sound like "grapes," it sounds like "psss." No matter, Mom understands. As long as she keeps the grapes coming and outfits me in size 4s, we'll be on good terms.

Born to Be Wild

The weather's been so nice lately, I finally understand what all this "Spring" fuss is about. What hair I have feels wonderful whipped about by the wind. Does Illinois have a helmet law? If so, when I grow up I'm buying a motorcycle and moving to a state that doesn't.

The Girl in the Mirror

Okay, ever since I was little I've had this friend. My mom calls her The Girl in the Mirror. She does everything I do, which tests my patience at times (c'mon, show some creativity), but overall she's a pleasant sort and I like her. Yesterday I was hanging out with her in the big mirror, the one in Mommy and Daddy's room that rests on the floor and leans up against the wall. We were in the middle of exchanging smiles when it occurred to me that I might be able to meet her in the flesh by peeking behind the mirror. So I leaned over and looked, but there was no one there. Puzzle. I checked the front again, and there she was as usual, which made me laugh, which made her laugh (she's easily influenced), so I quickly peeked behind the mirror again. Nothing. The Girl in the Mirror is wily, but I'll catch up with her yet--just watch me.