August 2010 - Recap

Oh August, you wily, wily month. You have produced both the funniest and the most tantrum-y aspects of my dear Natalie.

Okay, so these tantrums? Yeah, they're over the top. So listen up, here's the deal: Daddy and I are the boss. You are a munchkin. Munchkins don't rule the house. The bosses rule the house. Munchkins don't tell the bosses what's going to happen when. The bosses tell the munchkin what's going to happen when. Got it? Good. So I expect no more tantrums from here on out. Thanks.

Sweet girl, you are officially allergic to walking. You must trot everywhere you go. It's as if you're on a mission to beat your best time at going from the living room to your bedroom. Or from the garage to the front yard. You don't always trot where you NEED to trot (ie: your room when it's bedtime or the bathroom when it's time for a dip in the tub), but you trot everywhere. And you flail your arms when you take off. You look very similar to Phoebe:

I didn't know that toddlers were capable of cheating, but you are SUCH a peekaboo cheater. When you play, you look like someone who's covering her eyes while watching a scary movie but is totally peeking. And you think you're so sneaky. You "cover" your eyes, then giggle to yourself, as if you've totally pulled one over on us - as though Daddy and I have no clue where you are. Then you dramatically remove your hands from your eyes - and you have a look on your face that says "Here I am! I totally got you guys. I was here the whole time, but I know you and Daddy didn't know that."

You still love for us to point out certain letters to you. And as crazy as it sounds, you've picked up on some of it! You'll point to a letter in a book, I'll tell you what it is, and you'll run over to the fridge and bring back the matching letter magnet. You're not batting a thousand by any stretch, but you've got an excellent track record with these letters: A, B, C, N (though sometimes you bring me a Z), O, M (though you usually bring the M and the W, just to have your bases covered), N, S, and W (again, sometimes you bring both the M and the W). You can tell me what sound S makes (and it sounds exactly like your snake sound) and what sound B makes. It's beyond cool watching you get so excited about letters. I can tell you're tired of our "Bring me the right letter!" game when you bring me the sheep magnet. It's as if you're saying "Dude, this game is dumb. Here's a sheep. Now hush."

You also are an expert at smelling the flowers in Pat the Bunny. I don't know who taught that to you or when you learned, but I just realized it this month. We were reading it a few weeks ago, and on the page where Judy smells the flowers, you grabbed the book from my hands, slammed your face into the page, and took a deep whiff. Then you looked at me and giggled. It was HYSTERICAL. Judy is so proud of you.

You've just recently started smiling per our request. Of course, as soon as the camera comes out, you refuse to smile. But if you're in a camera-free zone and we ask you where your smile is, you put on the cutest, cheesiest, most adorable smile on your face. In one of your books, there's a picture of a woman smiling. And every time we point to that picture, you smile. When I draw a picture of a smiley face, you smile. When I bring out my camera and ask you to smile, you run away shrieking. I'm working on that. I got lucky one day and happened to get your cheesy smile on video, along with a few of your animal tricks:

You've recently started hugging like a guy. I'll remind you now that you are still incredibly UNaffectionate. You enjoy my company and Daddy's company, and you lose your noodle when we leave you with someone else, but you would rather do ANYthing than give us a hug or a kiss. You don't want to sit in our laps unless we're reading to you, and as soon as the book is over, you're climbing out of our laps faster than lightening. But in one of your books, there's a picture of two little kids hugging each other. And when I show you that picture, you put out your arms and give me a hug. And - get this - you pat my back. Like we're guy friends! You'll learn this when you're older, but guys hug each other in a very non-affectionate manner. They often shake hands, then beat each other on the back with their free hand. And this is what you do. Except you 'pat' more than you do 'beat' (thanks for that!), but it's so funny. My little unaffectionate pumpkin head.

You had your first Daddy-Nattie weekends this month. I visited one of my best friends in Pennsylvania one weekend, and then the next weekend, Gramma Lu, Auntie K, and I took a roadtrip to Virginia to see our cousin get married. I didn't take you on either trip, so it was just you and Daddy for those weekends. And apparently you guys had a blast! It was so reassuring to know that you wouldn't fall apart if you didn't see me for a few days. I missed you so much while I was gone, and I couldn't wait to blubber your chubby belly when I got home.

You learned a new word this month! Bubble! (you say it "bah-bohl) It makes sense that you would continue to add to the list of things you find most important in life. All you need in life are shoes, bubbles, Momma, Dadda, and "dis" (which is anything you need at a particular time). I know I'll regret saying this, but I can't WAIT for you to talk more. I want to know what's on your mind, I want to know what you're thinking, I want to know what's going on in that 99th percentile head of yours. I pray it's all good stuff.

(Here's a video of you saying "cookie" in your way cute, way raspy voice:)

You've also learned a new phrase: oh yeah! You say it almost exactly like this guy:

Hey Nat, do you want some grapes? Oh yeahhhhhh. Hey Nat, do you want to go for a car ride? Oh yeahhhhhh. Hey Nat, do you want a bath? Oh noooooooo (just kidding - you don't say that. But it'd be funny if you did. It'd certainly beat the wailing and gnashing of teeth that follow anything involving the bath).

You're noisy. Like NOISY. When you read or color (or have one of us color), you make this strange, gutteral moan. Some people would think that you're filling up your pants when you make a noise like that (and thought that at first!), but this sound goes on for 10, 20, sometimes even 30 minutes. It sounds not unlike someone with the flu who's in bed and moaning at the utter misery of being so sick. Your noise also sounds like a little moped. And you've even started shushing yourself when you get especially noisy. And I have to agree, "Yes, baby - you're being really loud. Please be a little quieter." The quiet only lasts for a few seconds, and then you're right back to being Noisy McSillySounds. I could try to spell it (maybe something like unhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh), but it's funnier to hear it.

Nothing beats your good days, my little love. When you're happy, you're unstoppable. And I feel like a superstar mom. We're working on overcoming those bad days, but I'm thankful for them anyway. Because those bad days remind me that I was never meant to be a mom by myself. I was meant to be a mom who gets advice and wisdom from God. And if all we ever had were good days, I'd have no (or drastically less) need to pray. I'd have the foolish notion that I had it all figured out, that I was a perfect parent, and that I had a perfect child. (Sorry to break it to you, but none of those three is true). And that's okay. Cuz you, me, and Daddy? We're gonna be just fine.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy and Daddy

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Headlines for September 1, 2010:

• Thousands flee weakening Earl
• Obama: Iraq combat mission is over
• Calif. rejects ban on plastic shopping bags
• Key device in BP disaster wasn't recertified
• Publicist says Zsa Zsa Gabor 'unresponsive'
• Jimmy Fallon makes nice as host of Emmys
• Chilean miners 'suffering like soldiers'