Faaaaaaaabulous

Just so you know - I wear shoes, now. They are uh.may.zing. Not only do they help me get around (I'm going to be crawling any day now, no big deal) but they are super fashionable.

I picked out an adorable pair of pink, purple and white sneaks with a hint of silver sparkle flair. They are perfect and match pretty much everything I own.

My newest accessory

I never understood the obsession before I wore shoes. Now, I'm totally into it. I'm dreaming of afternoons browsing Kate Spade with my aunties. Looks like I'm going to have to butter my mom and dad up for a little extra spending money this weekend. I wonder how open they are to the idea of getting second jobs to support my new habit.

Excuse me, Kate, do you have these in a size 6-12 months?

A wandering eye

After a minor illness, I returned to the learning center this morning. Conor completely ignored me and instead of rushing over to welcome me back, chose to crawl around and pull up on the cribs in the back of the infant room. Meanwhile, I was surprised to be greeted by a new, more handsome Ben.

Since turning one over the weekend, Ben has completely ditched the pacifier. I never realized how good looking he was until I could see his sweet smile. Ben has four teeth, a full head of hair and the ability to walk, not just crawl! Even though he is leaps and bounds ahead of me developmentally, he sat down with me to play with the big bouncy ball. I'll admit I was smitten.

Maybe

I'm hesitant to start a new relationship with someone who is going to be moving into the toddler room in a couple of months but I can't stay with Conor just because we're the same age, right?

I've been scoping out the signup sheet for Daddy and Me day this Saturday. So far, my dad and I are the only solid yeses but Ben and his dad are a maybe. Hopefully, we can get in some good face time and I'll be able to make an informed decision soon.

Sick day

Anyone who told you I took the day off to watch the story about Kate Middleton's hats on Today, was only giving you part of the story.

It turns out, I have a little sore throat. No worries, though. My mom took me to the doctor, bought me some delicious yogurt and helped me take a little nap and lower my temperature with a dose of infant Advil. 

I hope to be back at the learning center soon but if I'm not better tomorrow, I get to hang with my dad. (cough cough) I think I might need a trip to Starbucks, Dad.

PJs in the PM only, please

I've mentioned my love for the park before. It really is just a fantastic place to relax and meet and greet. Lately, I've been so excited about the park that I've been waking up early on weekends in the hopes that my mom will give me breakfast and take me directly there.

Thus far, my plan has worked. Of course, my mom doesn't just let me have my bottle and wheel me over to the park in the footie pajamas I wore the night before dribbled with whatever didn't make it to my mouth. You know why? Because we have a little something called class.

Yesterday, my mom and I decided to go to the bigger park at the center of our neighborhood, rather than the one closest to home. There's a little more shade, a sprinkler for hot days and better people watching in general.

I was pretty impressed by the mom-covery on the woman next to us with her two daughters but that was pretty much where the adoration ended. She, her mini-me five year and her two year old (who totally had hand, foot and mouth disease and should have been quarantined) were all still in their pajamas. It was clear they hadn't brushed their hair or teeth yet, too.

Cool look, kid. Are you headed to brunch at Bistro Campagne when you're finished swinging?

Look, we're all excited about the park. We all want to beat the rest of the neighborhood to the choicest swings. We all know that after 10am, it is going to get too hot to hang at the playground. But we're trying to have a society, here.

I'm not asking anyone to put on makeup or even shower, but I think something besides oversized flannel pants with cows jumping over the moon might be in order in public. Personally, I plan to save that look for 2030, when I'm a college freshman.

Penny Lane & Co.

Every summer, my neighborhood sponsors a super cool, family friendly concert series. It's a great place to see and be seen after a hectic day at the learning center. Last night, for example, I ran into Nia while waiting for Old California to play. This week's show just didn't have the elite vibe I usually get, though.

While the other parents had a plastic cup of white wine or five, my mom slammed a hot dog from the German restaurant across the street. I realized it was not going to be her most ladylike moment when she covered it in ketchup (a major faux pas, but I'll give her a pass, since she grew up in the South).  

Shortly before the stage dives began

As the band was setting up, there were a few kids on stage. I thought maybe they were roadies, but upon closer inspection, they were doing chalk drawings. It seemed a little disrespectful to the guy trying to tune his bass.

When the music started, the groupies really came out. They started out slow by stomping to the beat but by the end of the first song, there were at least 20 kids crowding the stage. One, who was inappropriately wearing a cape and a crown, even climbed on stage like he was Courtney Cox or something. Thankfully, his mom, splashing chardonnay, quickly removed him and the rest of us were able to enjoy the remainder of the show.

Picky Eaters

Every day this week, Miss Erica has pulled my mom aside to tell her what a good eater I am. I'm not bringing this up to brag. I just don't understand what the big deal is. You're telling me there are infants out there who don't eat everything that's put in front of them? Seriously? How is that even an option?

From what I've overheard (I'm honestly not eavesdropping, her mom just happens to be really open), Molly is a serial offender. All she likes is Puffs and formula. I imagine she's going to grow up to be like Don Gorske.

I don't mind the taste.

Yesterday, we strapped in for lunch at the same time. I had pureed beef with asparagus and a side of mangos. Molly had Cheerios and freaked out when Miss Erica offered some bananas. 

Of course, it's possible that Molly has it all figured out. I've noticed (again, not being nosey, just super observant) that she goes home in the same outfit she arrived in most days. Maybe this beige diet is doing something for her.

Is my boyfriend a bully?

I guess if I have to ask the question, I already know the answer. It's a hard thing for me to admit, but things have not been the same between Conor and me since I returned from vacation. You see, while I was away, Conor learned to crawl.

I understand that he's a few weeks older than me and that means he'll occasionally be a few steps ahead of me developmentally, but our relationship based on our similar size and sitting capabilities has always been so perfect.

Now, when I sit down next to him with a stack of blocks, he picks one up and crawls away from me. To be honest, crawling away would be fine if that was the only problem. Sometimes, Conor actually tries to crawl over me. He is 19 pounds, for goodness sake! My fragile 18 pound frame can't handle it.

The last straw was this morning. I thought he was going in for a hug when he wrapped his arm around my neck, but he ended up choking me a little bit. I know some people say boys are mean when they like you but I can't get into the philosophy.

Having both brains and beauty, I know the only solution to this problem is to learn to crawl, myself. Whether I crawl after him or away from him has yet to be determined.

The race is on

Missing

Could somebody please get me a milk carton? My favorite onesie seems to be missing. You would know it if you saw it.

When you grow out of your clothes every six weeks,
it is pretty upsetting to go even one day without access to a fav.

I wore it to school yesterday and came home in a different outfit. Granted, that happens from time to time, but the adorable blue checked shorts that went with it made it home without the crab onesie. Miss Erica claims that my accident yesterday was so bad that it might have been put in the wash at the center before being returned. I was not under the impression that the center had a "mess" limit to what they sent home for my mom to launder.

If it isn't in my cubbie by the end of the week, I'm going to have to have a serious talk with Annabelle. She's the only other infant who can fit in my clothes and I know she's been trying to copy my style.

Caught by the paparazzi

Guess who FINALLY made it into the monthly newsletter?!?! I've been at the learning center for five months and this is my first credited photo.

No offense to my mom, but my goal for the summer is to
make it into the newsletter without her sharing my spotlight.


I have a couple of people to thank, beginning with my mom, who appears with me in the photo, taken at the center's Mommy and Me Day. I'd also like to thank Miss Erica for having the camera ready at just the right moment.

Here's hoping this is just the first of many, many appearances to come.

The toddler trough

 

The toddler room has scheduled group meals, which I find appalling.

In the infant room, we eat the food our moms prepare at home whenever the mood strikes us. One little whimper and it's pureed zucchini city. (Of course, I don't judge the babies that eat jarred food but you really must try my mom's homemade stuff - so delish.) On the other hand, the toddlers have to sit down when it strikes Miss Muriel's fancy and eat a meal determined by the center. What's the fun in everyone getting the same mandarin orange breakfast at 7:30?

Not only do the toddlers have to eat boring food together but they are also completely lacking in table manners. Four meals out of five, at least one of them has their grubby Lightning McQueen Converse knock-offs up on the table. One of them usually scoots their highchair clear across the room to the reading center mid-meal. Those books must be coated in French toast sticks. Gross. I do not like sticky things.

Just another lunch in the toddler room

Gourmets, the toddlers are not. Just one more reason to put off this whole mobility thing.

First the moon landing, now this

I'm not generally one to get into conspiracy theories, but I have a feeling that Miss Miho wanted to teach me a lesson about being gone so long. My mom has stocked my cubbie full of coordinating separates and yet, this was the outfit I was put in after a rather unfortunate blowout. 

This is almost enough to shame me out of future accidents.

Oh well, at least Conor missed me. He was waiting for me in the padded climbing area, as usual, this morning. I was received less kindly by Molly, who sat on me and totally tried to play it off like it was unintentional. Whatever. It's still good to be back.

I'm still here

I've received a lot of mail asking if I've gone away or if I've given up on my blog. Never fear, I'm still here. Currently, I'm nearing the end of a nine day retreat at an undisclosed vacation destination. I've visited a few friends, gone to a local animal habitat ("zoo" sounds so primitive) and spent time relaxing in my private pool. I'm looking forward to being home and seeing my friends back at the learning center soon.

You can't really trust a swim diaper, so you might as well swim alone.