"Layna's Here!"

Ah, the mind of a two year old. They are figuring out so much. I cannot believe the things my daughter seems to have taken in, let alone pinpoint where or when she did so. Everything is "Layna do dat" right now, including going potty. (Unless, of course, I want her to go by herself.)

After church last Sunday, we stopped for one last potty break before heading out and she successfully did nearly everything on her own with the help of stool. I, too, used the facilities, washed my hands and grabbed a paper towel, which dispensed after I gave it a little wave.

Layna had figured out that the soap need only the presence of a hand before supplying ample pre-bubbled soap, and after five or so helpings, she finally moved on to rinse and dry. I started to help her get the paper towel and was met with a curt "I do dat!" so I stepped aside, but not before the red light recognized my hand and began to dispense. Fortunately, it was at exactly the same time as Layna stepped up to the dispenser, placed her hands deliberately under it (nowhere near the sensor) and proclaimed, "Layna's heeeeere," while watching expectantly. In her mind, the paper towels immediately complied to her announcement, and I can only hope that this is now how she believes all paper towel dispensers work, because I'm always up for a good laugh.

Hello, My Name Is...

My husband and I agree; there will be no pets in our near future. It's not that we dislike animals, but the thought of taking on more responsibility seems like a really bad idea right now.

Our neighbors, however, have two dogs, which is perfect for our animal-loving daughter and easily-entertained son. We often check to see if the dogs are out, and when they are there are shouts of excitement accompanied by jumping and laughter. I'm fairly certain the dogs are equally excited when they find Layna outside. They bark and jump and run the length of the fence, them on their side and Layna on hers. 

One afternoon Layna and I were in the middle of just such a scenario and Aaron decided to join us. Our friendly neighbors are often out with the dogs, and Layna is quite taken with them as well. I believe she was engaged with the neighbor talking about her day as Aaron approached. 

Layna, not wanting to be rude of course, said to our neighbor, "This is Mama's friend, Dada!" Which is quite possibly one of my favorite quotes yet. A small glimpse into how a two year old interprets the world. 

-Dada's Friend, Mama

A Sad Day

Every kid has their own quirky vernacular when they first start talking. It's one of the things that finally got me writing again. I knew the days that they say "ono" for orange, "feep" for sleep... and sheep, and "blana" for banana were numbered. I want to capture them so I don't forget the unashamed learning of their childhood.

In an overnight turn of events, "lovey" is suddenly pronounced "wovey" instead of by making a circle with your mouth and moving your tongue back and forth over the opening (often with various inflections in tone). Countless times we said, "Do we have that on video?" and I'm still not sure we do, but our opportunities to capture it are gone. That piece of my little girl is left to live on only in our minds, and I found this simple thing oddly heartbreaking.

In a nutshell that's what all parenting is like. You see moments slipping by, know they won't last, but can't seem to grasp them any more than you can reach out and hold the air in front of you. And so you're left with a memory of what they used to do, and the only comfort is knowing there's a whole world of "going to do". And maybe we'll have figured out how to capture those moments before they, too, slip away into memories of "used to".

"Realize deeply that the present moment is all you ever have." -Eckhart Tolle

We're Mobile, Folks!

There's no doubt that a two-year-old is going to give you more material for writing than a nine-month-old, but make no mistake, our Baby J gives us plenty of laughs, too. Unfortunately, they are just harder to describe without the gestures and noises and imitations. He is such a happy boy, and we are so blessed by his pleasant demeanor!

Until last week, we had been able to plop him down in one place and come back knowing we can expect him to be there. But our little guy has now had the first taste of independence. What started as making circles after alternating from sitting to crawling position 50+ times, has now developed into full-blown, get-after-it, crawling. He is on the go, and proud of it.

At the same time that the crawling began, he started pulling himself up on things and now when I enter his room in the morning, I'm often greeted by his round face popped up over the side of the crib, two bottom teeth gleaming in his million-dollar smile. Of course, that's because I'm one of the lucky ones. I'm Mama, which makes me numero uno to this guy. He's got a good thing going with Dada, and Grandma gets the cheesers, too. But if you're anyone else, you're likely to be greeted by a stoic, chin down, eyes up, unreadable expression. He's the friendliest skeptical guy I know.

Now that he's on the move, I'm imagining my two littles getting into all kinds of mischief together. And hesitant as I am to see them grow up too fast, I'm very much looking forward to seeing them do so together.

"It's No Not Nice!"

One of Layna's favorite phrases of late: "It's no not nice!" complete with pointing finger. Yesterday, she was standing in the kitchen in the morning and the sun was coming through the window illuminating her. She squinted at the window, looking like there was a little spotlight on her, and said, "No sun. No get in my eyes. It's no not nice!"

This happens often: when Josiah, 9 months old, "takes" her lovey or a toy she's not using; when her dad or I steal a bite of her food; when some inanimate objects gets her way; or when she's imagining things with her "a'mls" (her stuffed animal friends).

Her other favorite thing to say? "No - it's my dada!" Have I mentioned we have a complete daddy's girl? This is her go-to phrase when someone is too close to Aaron. The latest, completely awesome, story about this was over the weekend. There was some extended family in town, nine-year-old Henry and 11-year-old Lucy, both sweet as can be. Henry was teaching Aaron some form of martial arts. He was twisting his arm, etc. and Layna is sitting on my lap watching and murmuring "it's my dada" with a bottom lip stuck out, though she was otherwise tolerating their play. Until....

Aaron was on the ground, hands behind his back with his cousin leaning over him and Layna bolts from my lap with her "NO, IT'S MY DADA" warcry and jumps on his back to his rescue. She had a dress on, too. Without a doubt, it was one of my favorite moments: my two-year-old daughter, coming to her dad's rescue against a nine-year-old boy. I think we're doing a pretty good job of raising a tenacious, fearless daughter.

"I Help You, Mama"

I believe this is a universal truth: once you are a mom your view on privacy is never the same. Every mom has experienced someone assisting them as another person is produced from inside them, and a regular audience (see "produced person") while they use the restroom.

It was uneventful to have my daughter literally just standing and watching me pee while she's sucking her thumb and holding her beloved little blanket. Potty is not new to her. She was potty trained at 21 months thanks to my firm insistence that I not have two children in diapers. Well, turns out I made it more difficult on myself because a 21 month old, while using the potty with impressive ease, cannot go by herself. And if she is not in a diaper, there's an immediate need for you to stop what you're doing to take her potty - whether that's nursing a baby, cooking dinner, or using the bathroom yourself.

Thus, the last year has been peppered with memorable potty experiences as we find places to put her tiny heiny. (I highly recommend a foldable potty seat. We found one on Amazon and it's been a lifesaver!) Anyway, she still needs assistance going potty and has taken to holding our hands to avoid falling in when she is not using her potty seat, and I guess just for fun when she is.

While watching me, full attention while I "used the potty" yesterday, she said in the sweetest voice, "Here, Mama - help you, hold hand" and held both of my hands while I peed. When I was done she let go and gave me a big smile for my success. I found this incredibly sweet since we are often in the middle of a battle of wills. I didn't have the heart to tell her that, while she is usually at risk of a good toilet dunking, there is one other universal truth that happens in motherhood: your new hips mean you are never at risk of falling in the potty. 

When You "Bite the Dust"

I'm running yesterday morning, and I hit the streets just as the summer sun is trying to rise through the cloud cover.  I notice a flurry of activity among the sparrows at the end of road - chirping, squawking, fluttering, tree jumping, etc.  Embarrassingly, they caused me to change my route for fear of them dive bombing me on my way back through.

Part of the reason I love morning running is the quiet, the stillness. Finding none thus far, I continued on into the neighborhood down the street. To get there, I need to spend about 90 seconds running on a main (country) road. Not typically high traffic, but virtually no shoulder, which means I'm over in the grass to avoid a sideswipe.

I arrive in the neighborhood to find the birds there equally as concerned about whatever had them up in arms on my own road, but here there are also chipmunks and squirrels scurrying about. (I find it important to say that I literally dodged a chipmunk.) At this point I'm on the brink of being irritated. I'm finally getting clear of the activity only to find that I'm playing the same role to a few deer in a wooded area off to my right. They're probably thinking the same thing I was thinking about the birds; how annoying that you are disrupting my morning. 

Anyway, I plod on and try to enjoy the morning sweat as the humidity is already one million percent. After I turn back on to the main road, I'm navigating the grass and make a split decision to run between a telephone pole and an electrical box. It was an awkward opening about three feet wide. The funny thing is, I had this "don't go that way" thought, but it didn't reach my feet in time to respond. I quickly found out why it would have benefited me to heed my own instincts. My left foot landed squarely in a hole and I went straight to the ground with a rolled ankle and crushed pride.

I have a friend who gets a real kick out of people falling, which makes her sound mean, but I promise it's not. She has wiped out more than a couple times and laughs at herself with equal enthusiasm (which just makes her look deranged when she's alone.) I kept chuckling thinking about how she wouldn't have been able to restrain herself if she'd seen me tumble in the grass. That thought led me to the most epic wipe out of all time, again starring yours truly.

Saw V or VI or whatever ridiculous number had just come out on Halloween and I went with my brother and a couple of friends, this gem included. I walked across the front row of a 100% packed movie theater and completely and totally wiped out; over nothing. I literally just tripped over myself. And I was carrying popcorn. And I didn't just trip, I fell to the ground... still holding my popcorn (priorities). It was pretty epic in the way of embarrassing moments in my life. One that everyone there, which I'm sure includes the people I didn't know, relive often when in need of a good laugh.

My daughter, bless her heart, seems to have received some of this gene. She was walking down the deck step (yes, just one) and she must have tripped. I say "must have" because I didn't actually see the fall. I just hear a desperate little "Mama!" come from that area, looked over, and saw nothing. Again, "Mama!" And then I see these little feet sticking up just over the top of the deck. Poor baby was completely inverted and looked as if she decided to slide down the step on her belly! Hilarious, though. (And she was unharmed, so it was okay to laugh, which I did.)

All this to say, when life (or a giant hole) knocks you down, I'd like to think you're in good company. And it always behooves us to laugh at ourselves, and others... when appropriate... with good intentions.