all the things I've been meaning to blog this month

Before I go finish Gaz's Halloween costume, here's the update.

Gaz has a bunch of new stuff from Ikea: a table and chairs set, an easel, a little pink stool, a soft soccer ball, a little loopy-wirey wooden bead thing, and a step thing. The step thing is full of play food, which she gives to me several times a day with a flourish while yelling "Surprise! Happy birthday!"* The soccer ball is very important for soccer "teamer" practice. The bead thing she just loves. On Tuesday we had a lovely little breakfast of homemade banana bread and coffee while sitting at the little table.

Gaz has been talking a lot lately about Mothra and Godzilla and Batra. Mostly, she's talking about how she'd like to hug them, but Batra is under the water, and Godzilla and Mothra are both really big. So she'll have to hug them when she gets bigger. And, most importantly, she'll need a ladder. She's really insistent about the ladder. She also told me the other day that she wants to go to the hospital to meet the dragons and dinosaurs. "They're at the hospital?" I ask. She is very sure.

One morning Gaz gets out of bed while I'm still groggy. She goes to the small desk fan we've got on a nearby shelf and starts typing away, saying, "I working on my website!" I have no idea where she has heard this phrase before, but it's really cute. She does this most mornings now, and she's branched out to working on a number of other "computers" (window sills, tables, trash cans, TV trays, etc.).

Gaz loves telling stories. If asked to tell one off the top of her head, she will start by repeating "one time. . . one time . . ." until she thinks of something to talk about, usually something within sight like fire or Proton or Ookla. Then after she comes up with a noun, she shouts "the end!" and takes a bow while shouting "Thank you! Thank you!" She is 100% honey-glazed ham. I know this will get much more annoying when she gets older. Right now it's still adorable.

Tonight she read us the first few pages of The Pokey Little Puppy. And by "read" I mean recited what she has memorized of those pages. Which turns out to be almost all of them, right up to the first time the four puppies run down the hill roly-poly, pell-mell, tumble-bumble. Mark and I were both quite impressed.

Gaz is also a walking Taco Bell commercial. When pressed for time one day, Mark ended up bringing Taco Bell home for dinner. While we quietly ate our food, Gaz suddenly said "I love Taco Bell." We laughed and agreed that Taco Bell ain't bad. Then she said it again, this time with more gusto. We laughed harder. So she did it again, this time gesturing expansively. We ended up cackling like lunatics while Gaz shouted "I love Taco Bell! I love Taco Bell!" over and over. I had almost forgotten about this (I know, I should have blogged sooner), but then tonight Gaz pulled out a little metal bell from the cat toy drawer. It's one of those little bells that people give out as wedding favors. So she's got this little bell and she's running around shaking it. It's not long before she's saying, you guessed it, "Taco Bell! Taco Bell! Taco Bell!" We need a commercial deal.

Gaz is completely obsessed now with the cat carrier, of all things. It's in the living room right now, were she packs it full of toys every day. Sometimes there are few enough toys in there that the cat managed to get in. He's a strange animal that likes to nest, and the carrier is one of his favorite places to lurk when he's allowed to do so. Today I noticed Gaz and Proton playing this really fun game where Proton pushes against the carrier door with his face, and Gaz pushes the door shut, but doesn't latch it (she hasn't figured that out yet, and I don't plan on showing her). Then Proton pushes against the door again, and Gaz shuts the door. Lather, rinse, repeat. I tried to get a picture, but the little ham saw me with the camera and loosened her hold on the door enough that Proton managed escaped. It was fun while it lasted.

Every now and again, she randomly tells me, "I can't play with you now Mommy. I too busy." I don't think I've ever said anything quite like that. I tell her that she needs to wait a minute while I'm cooking or otherwise indisposed, but I try not to say things that sound, well, mean, for lack of a better word. It's still cute (I know, what does she do that isn't cute these days?**), and when she says it to me I just say "Okay. I'll play over here. You come play with me when you can." It seemed like the best way to react.

* She has been doing this consistently since September when there were lots of birthdays between cousin Brynn, me, Mark, Grandpa Will, Auntie Maude, etc. We will see how long this is still fun. I would find it more amusing if she didn't shout every time she said it, or if she'd maybe just say it once at a time. Guess I should focus on the good--she could be shouting many worse things.

** The answer to this completely not rhetorical question is: tantrums. Tantrums the likes of which I had not imagined. Throwing toys and furniture (child-sized furniture, but furniture nonetheless), smashing her face into the floor repeatedly (even though she has to know by now that this hurts), shrieking the most insanity-inducing shrieks. Sometimes for as long as an hour. Sometimes she takes a nap mid-tantrum and wakes up refreshed, ready to keep freaking out some more. And this was just this past Monday.