Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Heading Home

We left Myrtle Beach around 11:30 this morning, and made it to Richmond about 6 pm. We're spending the night here, taking Peeper to the Children's Museum in the morning, and then hitting the road for home.

She did great in the car today - she had two twoish-hour naps, and was in a great mood when we got in. We had dinner at a lobster place across from the hotel, and she got to see some lalas in the tank. We didn't tell her why they were there.

Then we went for a quick swim in the hotel pool, and played in the room until bedtime, around midnight.

(Yes, I know this post is timestamped before midnight. Shhhhh.)

Daily Peep: Her Just Desserts

When we got to Richmond, we had dinner at a lobster (lalas!) restaurant across from our hotel. We didn't tell Peeper that we'd ordered ice cream, because Shrike wanted it to be a surprise.

She was starting to get antsy, though, so I was about to tell her, when I saw the waiter on his way over with it.

So, instead, I told her, "The waiter has something for you. What do you think he has? Can you see what he has for you?"

I so wish I'd gotten a photo of the look on her face, when she realized she was getting ice cream. It was priceless.

Alas, these will have to do instead.

Monday, August 30, 2010

The Aquarium

Still no internet access other than my phone. Lots of great photos to post when we get home. Shrike & I took all three kids to the aquarium today. Peeper petted a horseshoe crab and fell in love with the spiny lobsters. I told her their name once and she kept saying "Lala! Lala!" and cried when we got past them - I had to take her back to see them again! Tomorrow, kikwe um q<:o>start our two-day drive home. Nonh

Edited to Add: Peeper stole my phone at the end there, added her two cents, and sent the message.

Daily Peep: Wastin' Away

The three of us eating lunch at Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville, after visiting the aquarium with our niece and nephew.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Daily Peep: Beach Bum Baby

Beach Report

Had a great time at beach and pool today. Peeper splashed in the ocean, found a seashell, nursed to sleep under umbrella while sitting next to Papa and napped in my lap for two hours, "flew" a kite and played in the kiddie pool and sprinklers. Shrike told her folks about our baby2 plans, and they are thrilled. My laptop still isn't seeing the hotel wifi so I'm blogging from my phone and will upload the photos when we get home.

Reach the Beach

Made it to Myrtle Beach after 2 days of driving. Peeper did great for one day. She was d.o.n.e. today. I have a few photos but now that I have time to post them (everyone is asleep but me) I can't connect to the hotel's wireless. I saw the network earlier and thought I was in so I don't know what's up. Maybe there's an internet curfew? So, I'm posting this from my phone and will add the photos when I can.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Ah Haz Moar Bukkits

Daily Peep: Panda Pics - 22 Months (95 weeks, 4 days)

Twenty-Two Months

Dear Peeper:
You are twenty-two months old today. I'm afraid this letter will be rather short because we're trying to get on the road to the beach, and although I had all good intentions of writing it a few days in advance, somehow that just didn't happen.

I suspect your tooth adventure, and ensuing cranky-pantsedness had something to do with that. That has already been thoroughly discussed, so there's no reason to go into it here.

As I say every month, you are just becoming more and more of a little girl and less and less of a baby every day.

You now do even more pretend play - feeding your babies and animals, rocking and goodying your baby, and carrying her in the sling. I just love to see that.

You are very into telling us when you've hurt yourself, and asking for kisses for your boo-boos. You do it when you fall down, of course, but also any time that you notice an old scratch or other injury. A couple of times, you've even asked for kisses for bits of food on your hand or arm!

You're also becoming very empathetic, and ask us if our boo-boos hurt, and give them kisses. It is the sweetest thing.

Your words are coming along and, although I've not officially "declared" it, I think you might be saying "yellow" (laloh) - and knowing what it means.

You don't name (other) colors yet, of course, but if we ask for a certain color, you can (sometimes) get it right, and you can sort your diapers into the baskets by color. When you see me starting to stuff them, you go to the changing table, and take down all the baskets, then as I get them stuffed, I give them to you and (with a bit of prompting "This is a BLUE diaper. Can you put it in the BLUE basket, with the other BLUE diapers?") you put them all in their correct places, then put the baskets back.

You also help with other chores, like sorting laundry - you tell me whose clothes are whose - and loading and unloading the dishwasher - you're in charge of loading (nonsharp) silverware and putting away nonbreakable stuff in low cabinets.

You also take your dishes to the sink after you eat, and (sometimes) pick up the food that you've dropped on the floor.

You're a better housekeeper than I am!

Okay kiddo, it's time to get showered and finish packing and head out.

I'm a bit aprehensive about how you'll handle two days of driving (and another two days coming home, just a few days later) but I think you're going to love the beach itself.

And we're going to love watching you at the beach!

And we love you!


Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Daily Peep: Feeling Much Better Today

I guess we need the occassional mood like she was in yesterday to remind us how pleasant she usually is, because we really do take it for granted sometimes.

About Those Caps

I haven't been able to get a photo that really shows all of the capped teeth, but I got a couple that give you the general idea.

Remember this photo of Peeper's teeth before yesterday?


Here are Peeper's teeth today:

Shrike thinks I'm being stupid and maybe I am, but I'm really not trying to be a jackass here, it's just how I feel.

I'm not on a fishing expedition, and I really don't want to hear a bunch of reassurances about how they're just fine and I'm being silly, and nobody can tell, because I can tell, and that's really all that matters to me.

It bothers the hell out of me and not a God damn thing can be done about it, so I guess I just have to deal with it, but don't fucking tell me it's nothing, because it's something to me.

The thing is, I absolutely hate how the caps look.

I'm glad that the dentist didn't try to drill too much and break her teeth. I'm glad that those three are now protected from cavities. I'm really glad that they now make tooth-colored caps, so she doesn't have big silver teeth, which would be about a million times worse, but I am still really not happy with them, at all.

I haven't gotten a really good look at the cap on the lateral incisor yet, in real-life or photos, but as best as I can tell, it doesn't look much different from its uncapped mate, so I don't guess I really have any complaints about it.

The central ones, though. Oh my God.

They are huge, and too "perfectly" shaped and look totally fake. They stick out past the others by a mile, and it looks like she's wearing some kind of Halloween costume teeth.

Look at the photos.

Before, the two middle teeth were rounded and just a bit bigger than the two on either side. Now they are half-again the size of their neighbors and perfectly square, like a couple of fucking Chicklets stuck in her mouth.

I swear, I didn't go looking for fault with them. When the dentist told us she'd capped them instead of filling them, I was actually glad, because I figured that meant we wouldn't have to worry so about those three having any additional decay. I was almost wishing she'd gone ahead and done that fourth one, just to be safe.

I didn't open her mouth to inspect them. I didn't say to myself, "Hmmm, let's see if I can tell a difference. Let's see if they look fake."

The dentist told us they'd look just like regular teeth, so I fully expected to not see any difference, other than the lack of cavities.

But there's a huge difference, and I didn't have to look for it.

Before she was even good and awake, maybe even before she was allowed to nurse, I was holding her and she was crying, and she opened her mouth enough for her teeth to show and, "Oh my God! Those things are huge!"

They just jumped right out at me.

The overwhelming impression was that the two in the middle are way too big for the rest of the teeth, and for her mouth. They remind me of a seven-year-old, who has gotten just those couple of permanent teeth, but hasn't grown into them yet.

Except that their neighbors aren't going to quickly be replaced by bigger versions. This is how her mouth is going to look for the next four or five years, until it's Tooth Fairy time at our house.

It also occured to me just a little while ago that, you know, we didn't consent to caps. We consented to fillings, and nobody mentioned the possibility of caps.

Now, had the dentist come out and talked to us, and explained why she wanted to do the caps instead and why fillings would be a bad idea, I'm 100% sure we would have consented, but we were never even consulted about it, and the more I think about it, the more that bothers me.

Don't get me wrong, I liked the dentist, and I don't really blame her (Well, maybe a little. I mean, can't she see that they don't match?) but I just feel like we gave her the world's cutest little toddler mouth and she fucked it all up. Without our permission.

I mean, obviously (obviously!), Peeper is still the world's cutest toddler, but now the world's cutest toddler has big fucking freaky fake front teeth.

And I hate them.

And I hate that I hate them.

I mean, they're part of her now, so shouldn't I love them, just like I love the rest of her?

But it just makes me so upset to even look at them.

I don't care if nobody else can even tell the difference. (But how can you not? I mean, look at the photos!)

I can tell the difference.

I know that they are not her. They are not right. They are just wrong.

It's not about them making her somehow "not cute" or even "less cute" because I don't think that's the case, but just, well dammit, she was perfect, and now she's not, and nobody asked us before doing it, and seriously, how could the dentist not see that they are way to big for her? How could she not, I don't know, use smaller caps? Grind them down smaller? Something.

So, now what?

I mean, I can say something to the dentist when we go for the follow-up next Friday, but what good will it do?

Shrike already thinks I'm crazy for even being concerned about it, so she'd probably be mortified if I complained about how they look, and I'm certainly not going to complain about how they look in front of Peeper, because I don't ever want her to know that I don't like them.

But I really do want to say something. To at least ask why they are so fucking big. (I would probably use less inflamatory language.)

It's not like she can make them smaller now - certainly not without knocking her out again, and I don't suppose that would make sense to do - but I think it might make me feel a little better to at least talk to her about it.

I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it really does. I just feel sick to my stomach every time I see them.

Maybe not sick so much, as just that awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. That "something bad has happened that can't be undone," feeling. I guess it's similar to how I'd feel if she'd had some sort of injury that left a minor scar.

I would know that it wasn't tragically disfiguring, and most people would never even notice it, but it would still always bother me, because it was something that happened to my baby, to mar her perfection.

(Let me emphasize, though, that I do not feel that way at all about her surgical scar. That surgery saved her life, and that scar is a fucking badge of honor, for all that she (and we) went through.)

I mean, she's still the cutest thing ever, but now she's the cutest thing ever - with funny-looking teeth.

I hate that I think that about them; I hate that I think that about her, but I do, and I don't know how to stop feeling that way.

I also kind of hate that I am so invested in her appearance. I mean, she is (and I think I am being at least somewhat objective here) quite cute, but that's not even in the top 100 of her best qualities, and I didn't really realize how important it's become to me.

I always thought that it was the beautiful girls, who've spent their lives hearing compliments about their own appearance, who were so concerned with their children's appearance, but maybe it's just the opposite. Maybe since having strangers constantly complimenting my child  (and, thus, by some weird extension, me, although I had nothing to do with that) is such a totally new experience to me, it means that much more.

And, of course, there's the part about how I already felt guilty about the cavities in the first place. Maybe the dentist was right about it being from night nursing, or maybe I haven't been brushing them well enough, or maybe I'm feeding her too much carby food, or whatever other reason I might come up with at any given moment.

Ever since I first noticed them, every time I've seen the cavities, I've felt awful about them, and as much as I was dreading yesterday, I was also looking forward to having them repaired.

But instead of erasing the visible signs of whatever it is that I've done to cause my child's teeth to rot, yesterday just made it all the more obvious.

Last night, I was googling for more information on either caps or congenitally missing teeth (hey - at least that one's not my fault!) when I came across a post on some sort of a toddler tooth forum, in which someone asked, "What do you think of the parents when you see a toddler with silver caps on their teeth?"

Well, I know what I thought of them before yesterday.

I guess now I just have to think that they don't have as much dental insurance as we do, so they couldn't afford the tooth-colored ones.

God, I can only imagine how distraught I'd be about all this if they'd put a bunch of silver in her mouth. I suppose I should at least be thankful about that, but instead, all I can think is, "Damn, those teeth are big."

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Daily Peep: Tooth Day

Today was Peeper's big tooth-restoration adventure, and it started way too damn early in the morning. Shrike and I got up around 5 am, dressed quickly and quietly without showering, and had some breakfast, all in about fifteen minutes. Then I got Peeper up and nursed her pretty much right up until our 5:30 am cutoff, changed her diaper in my lap, and put her jammy pants right back on.

We ran into a little more traffic than I expected at that hour of the morning (which was dumb of me, because the route we took is pretty much the commute-to-DC road) but we got there just a few minutes after our appointed time of 7:30 am.

We got all checked in and they took us back to a holding tank, where Peeper (and we) got prepared for the procedure. First we got her out of her jammies, and thoroughly labelled for safe handling.

Then she got all dolled up in her hospital gear. Her gown had doggies on it, so that was a big plus! The socks were awful baggy, and they didn't last long. We did find another use for them later, though.

I was going back to the OR with her, so I had to get dolled up, too. After taking her vitals and answering a bunch of questions, she got a dose of Versed, to chill her out, and make her not remember this part of the process later. Which is a shame, because she was having a good ol' time.

First, we watched some TV.

Then the anesthesiologist and the dentist came in to talk with us, and go over everything that they were planning to do.

I asked the dentist if she would be taking xrays, because the that we saw in the office said that they might. She told me that she usually doesn't, if the teeth aren't touching yet, because she can generally see what's going on pretty well.

I asked her, if she did do them, if she would mind checking on Peeper's lower right lateral incisor, which hasn't come in yet and, you know, just make sure it's down there somewhere.

"Oh," she said, "Well that's a good reason to do an xray, then. We'll check that out."

She then explained that, "because of evolution," since we don't really require all our teeth these days, more and more people are being born with less than the full compliment of thirty-two.

About that time, the Versed was really kicking in, and although I hate to admit it, we were rather enjoying the show. I know this photo looks like she's sleeping peacefully, but I really just caught her in the middle of her rolling, lolling, rubber-boned staggering around the gurney.

Good thing it had such nice, high, cushy sides. At one point, I had to sort of prop her up in the corner, because she kept tipping over and having to reach out and catch herself.

She wanted Baby to wear one of her socks, so I shoved her little plastic legs into it. Then she wanted her to wear the other one. I started to put in on top of the first sock, but Shrike said, "No! Don't you know it goes like this!"

Peeper thought that was HI-larious, and was happy to show her off for the camera.

Then it was time to kiss Mommy good by, and head down to the operating room. As you can see, her hat was a little big. As we were putting her in the gurney, it was falling down all over her face, but she wasn't bothered by it at all.

She wasn't bothered by much at that point, actually. I really wanted to carry her to the OR, but realized that she would probably enjoy getting a ride. Boy, did she. When it started moving, she said, "Eeeee!" and she was rolling and crawling and flopping all around in it. At one point, she said, "Uppa!" but I told her there was no way she was going to be standing any kind of up!

When we got to the OR, I put her on the table, and talked to her while they got the blood pressure cuff and EKG leads all set up. Then the anesthesiologist put the mask on her, and a nurse and I held her hands still while she fought just a bit against the funny smelling air.

At one point, I leaned over to hug her, and got a whiff of the gas coming out around the edge of the mask. I figured I'd better stand up at that point, because I didn't think they really needed me to be passed out on top of her!

When the doctor declared her fully asleep, I gave her a kiss and told her that I'd see her when she woke up, then went back to Shrike.

I was holding up okay, until the nurse who was walking me out told me that, "You look like you've done that before," and I told her that, actually, no when Peeper had her open-heart surgery, we had to hand her off at the door, and that it was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.

I pulled myself together from that, and we got some breakfast, then poked around in the gift shop a bit, because we realized that we are like the worst parents ever, because we didn't even think about having some sort of prize for her when she got done with this. And we didn't find anything appropriate in there, either. What dumbasses.

Then we went back to the waiting area, and I sent a few texts, while Shrike thumbed through a UK Good Housekeeping from, I kid you not, March 2001.

It occured to me that the hour-and-a-half time frame they gave us was probably a maximum, and it probably wouldn't really take that long. Just as I started to say that to Shrike, I saw the dentist coming out to talk to us.

She said that she was all done with the procedure, and that we could go back and be with Peeper in a few minutes, then she went over what she did.

"It was a good thing we took the xray," she told us, "because we found out the decay was more extensive than we thought."

Not only were the two cavities that we knew about deeper than they'd expected, by the tooth in between them had some decay, too. Since it's hard to do much drilling on tiny little baby teeth, instead of doing fillings, she just capped all three of them. She assured us that the caps are tooth-colored and only a dentist would know that they are there.

I've not really had a chance to fully inspect them, but I can tell that while the capped lateral incisor seems to pretty well match the natural one, the two central ones are much bigger, and stick out below them significantly. Or at least it's significant to me.

Shrike says it doesn't look funny, and it doesn't make her buck-toothed, but I don't know.

I wasn't able to get a photo showing that, but I will try again tomorrow, and will post a before-and-after comparison.

Maybe I just have to get used to it, or maybe it's my imagination and they are exactly the same size as her real teeth, but they just look really big to me right now.

She said that we'll treat and care for the capped teeth just like all the others, but that they are now protected, so you can bet that if I'm only going to get a quick pass at those top teeth at brushing time before she escapes, that I'll be concentrating on the one naked incisor and the canines.

All four molars have been sealed, so they should be in good shape, too.

She also cleaned all her teeth, since the other dentist wasn't able to do that at the first exam.

Then she confirmed my suspicions that the late-arriving tooth is actually missing in action. The xray showed that neither the baby tooth or the permanent tooth is there!

She said that the other teeth should move to fill in the gap (I was already wondering if there was room there for it to come it) and that just looking, it didn't even jump out at her that it was missing, until she actually counted them.

The same thing should happen with the permanent teeth and, especially since it's on the bottom, it probably won't be noticable at all. If it is, and if it bothers her, we can consider an implant.

So, for now, it just is what it is, and we'll make a decision about whether anything needs to be done when we're dealing with orthodontics down the road (because you know we will be).

It wasn't long before someone else came and got us to go back and see Peeper. As we walked through the doors, directly in front of us was another mom, cuddling her recovering toddler who. . . Hey wait! That's my kid! 

As she handed her to me, the nurse told us that she'd woken up calling for us. Later they said something about her having "not gotten any sleep" because she was already waking and crying when she was moved from the OR to recovery. 

Shrike and I talked about it later and agreed that while we were very disappointed that she'd woken without us there (although I can't imagine she remembers that), we were also very pleased that when she did, a nurse took her out of bed and cuddled her in the rocker until we arrived. 

Of course, as soon as she realized that I had her, Peeper signed *milk* so I asked if it was okay for her to nurse. They wanted her to get a little more awake and, as badly as I wanted to nurse her right then, she was mighty dopey, so I agreed that was probably not a bad idea. 

At that point, she was opening her eyes a smidge, crying and signing *milk* then going right back to sleep, so I also didn't feel too awful about putting her off for just a tiny while. A few minutes later, though, she became more insistent and while I technically did wait for permission, I had my bra unhooked and was pretty much pulling the boob out by the time I got it. 

She nursed and dozed for a while, then they moved us to the next "phase" of the recovery area, where she, well, nursed and dozed some more. 

After her IV was removed and we had our discharge orders, we were free to go, but she was still not a happy camper. I had her nurse the other side while we got her dressed and then we had to figure out how to get her to the car. 

At that point, everytime she unlatched, she started crying - a pathetic, miserable cry - and I didn't think I could handle that all the way out to the parking lot.

I told Shrike that I wished I had the (not an) Ergo, because she can nurse in it pretty easily, and she said, "Well, what about the ring sling?" - which I'd thrown into the diaper bag on the way out the door this morning, almost on a whim.

It took a bit of maneuvering, but I got her in it (she wasn't too happy about the idea) and then got her latched on, and between my shirt and the tail of the sling, I think I actually kept myself covered, and that's how we walked out of the recovery area, through the surgery waiting area, across the whole front of the hospital and out to the car.

I'd like to say ". . . an nobody batted an eye," but we both felt like everyone (there were lots of people waiting on surgeries) was looking at us as we went by.

I don't know if it was "Hey, dykes! With a kid!" or "Awwww, poor baby," or "What's that contraption she's got that kid in?" or "OhMyGod! Does she have her tit out?!" or just "Oh look, people walking by. They are more interesting than this ten-year-old magazine," but at least one woman did - I swear - cheer for us, arms pumping, saying,"Yay! It's over!" as we passed her.

Once we got on the road, of course, she Peeper (and Shrike) conked right out and slept all the way home.

She had a couple of naps before finally going down for the night, and she was quite the crankapotamus in between them, nursing, whining, playing for a bit, whining more then nursing again.
She may be a fun drunk, but she does not handle a hangover well at all.

There was a bit of this.

But mostly, a lot of this.

But you do what you gotta do, and we made it through.

Our discharge instructions were pretty straight-forward: Tylenol and Motrin as often as allowed, soft foods for the day and nothing "greasy, spicy or heavy," and follow up with the dentist in about ten days.

We got the first dose of Tylenol in on schedule, and then she napped until about an hour after she was due for both more Tylenol, and a dose of Motrin. So much for "staying on top of it."

She ate cheerios with milk, chocolate ice cream, some soft and crispy fruit and cereal bars, a chocolate chip cookie dough Atkins bar (it was a free sample, and we didn't mind giving it up for her; it was pretty gross), plain cheerios and dog food. After the first couple of things went okay, we figured she would know better than we would what she could tolerate and if it hurt, she wouldn't eat it.

As luck would have it, all signs point to tomorrow being cycle day one for Shrike, and she's supposed to do the mock transfer sometime between day five and day ten. We will be returning from the beach next Wednesday (day eight) and she's got an early meeting at work on Thursday, so we're going to try to schedule her mock and Peeper's follow-up appointment both for next Friday, since they are in the same town.

And now, two hours after Peeper finally went to sleep (confession: It's actually well after midnight; I'm pre-dating this to Tuesday) I am going to have another ice cream bar (since Peeper ate half of my last one!) and go join my family in Dreamland.

Thank you all for your encouraging words and good mojo today!


On our way home with a very grumpy girl.

All done. Just talked to dentist. Will call us back in abt 5 min to be with her as she wakes up.

Got her all tucked in in the OR. Now we're having breakfast. Should take abt 1.5 hr. I'm hanging in there.

Tooth Time

Peeper's having her teeth filled tomorrow morning, under general anesthesia. So far, I've been just kind of ignoring it, but I guess it's a little late for that now.

We're officially 24 minutes into her no-solid-foods period, although she is allowed to nurse until 5:30 am. (Yay for breastfeeding!)

If she ever settles down and goes the hell to sleep, our plan is to set the clock for 5 am, get ourselves dressed quickly, then get her up and into a clean diaper (we're letting her stay in her jammies) and all goodied up until 5:30, at which point we'll move car-ward, and try to get on the road well before 6 am, because the hospital is about an hour and a half away, and we're suppose to arrive by 7:30.

Her procedure is scheduled for 9:30, and it sounds like they'll keep us pretty busy during that two hours, meeting the dentist and anesthesiologist, and so forth.

They will give her some sort of sedative before we move into the operating room, and one or both of  us will get to go in with her, until they've got her anesthetized, then we'll be with her when she wakes up.

I've told her what to expect so many times she'll probably be as glad as we are to get it over with, just so I'll shut up about it.

We're really not too concerned, given that she did fine with the anesthesia for her open-heart surgery, and that this is so not open-heart surgery, but we're starting to get a little nervous at this point, and I can imagine we'll be much worse-off by morning.

Or, maybe we'll be so damn tired that we'll just go take a nap while she's taking hers.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Daily Peep: She Loves Her Some Bubbles

Bits & Pieces


Peeper (in my lap, nursing): Baby! Baby! Baby!
Mama: Mommy will get your baby.
Mommy: Where is she?
Mama: Right there, by the door.
Mommy: Oh, Mommy can't see very well.
Peeper (signs): *glasses*

Ouch! (Or not)

These days, Peeper's really into pointing out things that hurt (she signs *hurt*) and having us kiss them. Of course, she does this when she falls down or stumbles or I accidently scratch her nose (well, if you hadn't had dog food in your mouth, for me to be trying to get out . . . ) or whatever.

She also does it any time that she notices one of the thousand scratches on her feet or legs (she refuses to wear shoes, even running around in the backyard).

Shrike reports that yesterday, she had to kiss what must have been an extremely painful spot of spaghetti sauce on her arm!

Cat Nips

A couple of days ago, Peeper looked at BoyCat and asked *milk?* so I showed her his little tiny nipples.

She is now obsessed with them. I am so, so, sorry, Mr. Kitty.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Daily Peep: Swimsuit Model

We're going to the beach with Shrike's family next week, so a few weeks ago we were searching high and low to find Peeper a bathing suit with some sun protection.

Shrike finally won one on Ebay. When she showed me the listing, I have to admit that I wasn't overly impressed with it, but told her to go for it because I was just sick of shopping for them.

I was wrong.

This evening, after her bath, I tried it on her, and I thought I was never going to get her out of it. Not only is it cute-cute-cute, but she loves it.

She kept rubbing her tummy, I assume she likes the silky feel of the fabric.

Little does she know that the best part is on the other side.

Ready for some fun in the sun!

Practicing her surfing stance.

Don't hate me because I'm adorable.

I finally convinced her that if she was going to play in it, she had to at least let me get a diaper on underneath!

And then I even managed to tame her just-bathed hair a bit.

Sounds Like . . .

Yesterday, as I was putting Peeper in the car to go to the grocery store, I noticed some skydivers overhead. (There's a small airport near us, and we see them all the time. It never gets any less cool.)

I pointed them out to her, saying, "Look, honey - parachutes!"

She kept pointing at the sky and signing "more."

I was saying "I'm sorry, that's all there are," when I realized, Wait a minute. She's cleaned up her "more" and it doesn't look like that anymore. Oh, and there's the new "more," and . . . shoes?


*more* *shoes* *points*

What is she talking about?

*more* *shoes* *points*

What shoes?

*more* *shoes* *points*

Sh. . .  - oh.


Evidently, to the not-quite-twenty-two-month-old ear, Parachute = Pair o' Shoes.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Daily Peep: Porta-Potty

This afternoon, Peeper liberated her potty chair from the confines of the bathroom and took it on an adventure.

Panda Pants!

We got a surprise package in the mail yesterday, which turned out to be a specially-selected alternate prize from Vee and Jay, for a blog contest that we won a while back.

Oh. My God.

Teh cute, it is overwhelming.

Friday, August 20, 2010

Daily Peep: It's Apple Pickin' Time!

Today was the big MOMS Club apple picking adventure. As predicted, Peeper loved it.

While we waited for everyone to arrive, the kids played in the corn table.

The first stop was the Bee Room, where our tour guide, Miss Cindy, told the kids all about how they use bees at the orchard to help with pollination.

Everyone sat politely and listened attentively.

Well, almost everyone.

The we all loaded onto the wagon for a tour of the orchard. Miss Cindy told us all about each area that we passed by. We saw asparagus (gone to seed), blueberry and raspberry bushes, and peach and apple trees. We also saw two of their eleven man-made lakes, the drip irrigation system, several bee boxes and a truckload of apple pickers.

Finally, we arrived at the pick-your-own gala apple orchard. The tour cost $5/person (free for kids under three) and each paid guest was allowed to pick five apples. We didn't pay for Peeper, but we let her pick about eight of our ten. Shhhh. 

All of the trees are grafted onto dwarf root stock, so that they are low to the ground and easy to pick. It was no problem finding ten apples well within the reach of a 2'7" toddler.

We did have a little trouble explaining to her that she wasn't suppose to pick the ones lying on the ground.

Then our wagon took us back up to the front. These are huge stacks of apple bins.

And these are bins full of apples and peaches, back at the store.

The kids played some more before we headed home. I'm pretty sure Peeper understood better than she let on that she wasn't suppose to actually eat the corn.

It wasn't exactly a live pony, but she enjoyed this horsey plenty anyway.
The fruits of our labor. These are the ten apples that we picked.