Gaz says

Thursday was a rainy day, so we stayed inside and amused ourselves in the usual manner (tea parties and various excuses to move all the toys from one room to another), then Gaz announced that she was going to write a speech to read to Obama.

You see, she's got a bit of an Obama obsession. I take responsibility for this, as I did make her watch the whole inauguration (well, we played with toys and I listened in, but I did take a break from toys for the big speeches and oaths), but it's really grown into something strange and wonderful inside her head. Every time she sees a magazine with him on the cover she says, "Hey Mom! There's Obama!" The other day, her alien toy didn't believe that Obama was the president

, even singing a song about how he, the alien, was president and not Obama. Gaz set him straight in the end.

Then she started asking about speeches, and why do people make speeches, and what do they say in them, and what was Obama speaking about in this or that news clip. Then, on that fabled rainy day, she asked me for a pencil because she was going to write the speech she would be reading to Obama. And so she disappeared into her room for a few minutes and emerged with a bunch of random letters on a page. I should scan it for posterity.

The best part was that she couldn't read it to any old imaginary Obama. She had to read it to Mommy pretending to be Obama. So I did my best to sound presidential and listened attentively to Gaz's speech about her favorite things, her favorite toys, and what she likes to do (play games, play with her toys, play with the kids next door, etc.).

I wish I had had the foresight to have the camcorder handy, because it was definitely a YouTube moment.

Other fun that's happened lately:

What happens when you cook a fossil? (Inspired by waking up with her knitted nautiloid this morning, she insisted we find pictures and information about nautiluses, which naturally ended up by checking out pictures of Lituites lituus. I've been trying to explain fossils lately, but we're still at the "if it's a dead animal, what happens when you cook it?" stage. Don't ask me to explain this stage. I don't get it either.

Of the Greedo key fob she found today: "He's a skeleton guy with clothes on. But he lost all his bones!" (She did not respond to questions on how he can be a skeleton guy and be missing his bones at the same time. Greedo is just so much fun to play with, I suppose.)

Many apologies for the long dry spells between posts. It's been a crazy few weeks, between disturbed sleep cycles and general random cranky three-year-oldness, but I'm trying to catch up. I'm even not ashamed of the kitchen right now! The living room on the other hand . . .

Well, one thing at a time.

so much to say

But to start off, here's what Gaz said at dinner when I asked her how she signs "strong" in her own version of sign language: "Strong is when you eat a little monkey and chew it!" Not sure where we get monkey eating from (unless you've been telling her stories about the Navy, Papa Charley!), but she did go to the zoo yesterday with Mark, where she played with a little girl named Emily. Today she went to the park and met a girl named Lucy and they had a great time. We'll have to see if we can connect at the park more often.

Let's see . . . We visited all the grandparents, who are all doing well. Gaz got to visit another funeral home, when my cousin's grandmother died. It was a situation not unlike what we went through with Grandpa in February, which was a little surreal for me, and all the Sawyers remain in our thoughts. Gaz made the best of it, though, and spent most of our visit there running around outside with another little girl. She makes friends everywhere she goes!

We're in the middle of a big Scooby-Doo kick lately. Lately, she's all about watching "Scooby-Doo and the Witch's Ghost," so don't be surprised if she sings one of those abominable Hex Girls songs to you. And speaking of all things Halloweeny, I'm working on another Mothra costume. But like Mothras from the movies, this one will be different! I'm not so much styling it after a particular movie, as I am working on alternatives to the foam wings I made last year. This year, once I get the basic construction done, Gaz will be helping. I'm looking forward to that. She gets a big kick out of anything artsy these days.

Particularly, she loves painting. I tape some paper up on her easel, and in no time she's completed a masterpiece and is demanding more paper. If I can get the scanner working, maybe one of those will become part of the blog here. Today she decorated a pumpkin with googly eyes and yarn hair. She was frustrated with the mouth she drew, but I think it's beautiful, of course. There are pictures, I just need to sort out the hundreds that are on the SD card.

That's it for now. More as I remember things!

Paging Nurse Gaz

This morning Gaz hopped out of bed bright and early, opened the bedroom door, and asked, "Mommy, can you fit through the door?" And then, "Mommy, why are you laughing?"

It's been a crazy week here, as last Friday we met Number One Godmother, Auntie Aiiiieeeee,* at the oral surgeon's office, as she was getting her wisdom teeth extracted. It took forever, but Gaz still somehow managed to remain more or less well behaved. She konked out in the car on the way home after being only slightly disturbed by Aiiiieeeee's strange appearance and inability to talk (and more terrifying--her inability to laugh!).

Thus began Gaz's first time giving up her room to a houseguest since she really started liking the place. I mean, she doesn't sleep there, but she does jump on the bed constantly and her little play kitchen and a random assortment of toys and books are all in there. It was a little strange when Aiiiieeeee needed some post-op nap time and Gaz had to collect whatever toys she might feel like playing with for a while and remove them to the living room. Mark took Gaz to the park for a while and I was able to get the house in order for the rest of the convalescence.

So Aiiiieeeee stayed with us until Monday evening, and Gaz thoroughly enjoyed the extra attention another adult human can provide, as well as getting to play nurse. She patted Aiiiieeeee's knee and wore a very grave, concerned expression while doing so. She offered toys for Aiiiieeeee to sleep with and built her cubes out of Legos and painted her pictures to help her feel better. It was terribly precious, but also terribly taxing on the little one to be so good for so long.

Among other hijinks, which I'm sure I'll remember as soon as I hit the "post" button, Aiiiieeeee and Mark explained to Gaz about heartbeats and the circulatory system. And since we're talking about Gaz here, this lead directly to everyone drinking buckets of pretend blood. How does she think of these things without prompting? I have no idea. But she now knows that her body is full of blood and it moves around. And even now, she sometimes picks up a plate from her play kitchen and sits down to "eat some blood!"

Since Aiiiieeeee's return home, Gaz has been missing her auntie. Tuesday was made of mope until she realized that she could now jump on her bed any time she liked. But generally, she's had a short fuse. The adjustment time after any visit is always full of crankiness, but this has been rougher than average. Part of that might be Auntie Heather's visits on Saturday and Sunday, which contributed to the fun quotient and the post-fun crash. But all in all, Gaz had a great time last weekend, even though Aiiiieeeee felt terrible and the rest of us were a little harried.

Oh yeah, the other really crazy thing she said happened while she was making Auntie Heather run around on Sunday. Gaz stuck her hands into the front of her diaper (she often pretends the front of her diaper is a giant pretend pocket when she's running around mostly naked), then flung her hands out in an expansive gesture and said, "TA-DA! THE COOKIES ARE HERE!" Which is way more entertaining than when she pretends to pull a rabbit (or some other random magic trick type thing) out of her pants.

Today has been a long day of tantrums and art (we just discovered Elmer's 3D paints deeply discounted at Walgreens) and an accidental late nap, so I expect the grumpiness to recur when it gets closer to bedtime (which is coming up all too soon!). But right now she's cavorting and cheerful, so blessings duly counted and sincerely appreciated.

And we all learned a valuable lesson about how hard it is to tell the difference between "I" and "Aiiiieeeee" in casual conversation. I don't think we figured out what to do about it, though, because it's still really cute to hear her use her babyish approximation of "Angeli."

* She's inherited a few more extremely awesome godparents since then, but Aiiiieeeee gets top billing since she actually saw me in labor. :)

fresh outta clever titles

Today Gaz exploded out of the bedroom, where she'd been quietly wandering around with the door shut, and announced that she was just like a giant bunny. We haven't even seen Curse of the Were-rabbit lately, but she's got a pretty long memory these days. (Last night, she said she wanted to show the binoculars that Grandma Judy gave her to the boys downstairs, and I'd even forgotten where the binoculars came from.) Anyway, she leaps out of the bedroom and there's that familiar aroma about her. And she says, "I even have a little tail like a bunny!" and turns around to show me the lump in her diaper.

Yes, I know, no one likes a post about poop. But I have to share these stories with someone--I can't embarrass her in front of her future prom dates by myself.

Gaz has also been taking care of Sweetie's brother (that would be the larger baby doll that she got from Grandma Judy and Grandpa Will for Christmas) because he's been crying off and on all day. She comes to me, cradling SB in her arms, saying, "He's crying. I'm taking care of him." She also calls him her brother, and just now, her daughter. But then again, the floor fan is also her sister and best friend.

She's been quietly walking around with the doll, sometimes making him talk with me in a deep voice. But then it was him for him to go to sleep, so she took him into the bedroom, buried him under blankets, and closed the door, so he could fall asleep in the quiet. Very sweet. Then he woke up and had a tummy ache, so he had some tummy medicine and now they're resting on the recliner (she's once again buried his head under her discarded pajamas).

Just another normal-strange day.

And a belated and poorly executed thank you to everyone who sent me their condolences, whether electronically or otherwise. I am sorry I'm thanking youse here, but you know how I am about mailing things. (Those Christmas cards from 06 are still here somewhere. . .)

Baby Tracks

The sheets we have on Gaz's bed (yes, the bed she never sleeps in) have stripes that are covered with various abstractish flowers. Yesterday she said that these were clearly baby tracks, and so we followed the baby tracks for a while. We never found those mysterious babies, but maybe next time we'll run into one.

We've been watching some of those old Hanna-Barbera Godzilla cartoons (you know, the ones where not only is Godzilla really helpful and nice, he also comes to the rescue at the push of a button, even when his pet people are cruising along the Nile) which we found on DVD. Gaz and I were enjoying some popcorn while we watched one of these cartoons and Gaz happily shouted "Godzilla save the day!" while she rubbed her nose. But she wasn't actually rubbing her nose. She was shoving an unpopped popcorn kernel into her nostril. She let me know there was a problem, fortunately, before she managed to jam her finger in her nose again, so I was able to fix the problem without any trouble or ER visits. Gaz gave me a big hug and declared, "Mommy, you save the day!"

A few mornings ago, Gaz followed me into the kitchen when I went to make my morning coffee. "Mommy, I hungry," she said, so we opened the refrigerator to have a look. I asked if she would like some cheese and held out a piece for her to consider. She threw her arms around my leg and squealed, "Mommy, you my hero! You my favorite color!" So score one for the mommy and the cheese.

The early incarnation of Gaz's storytelling, I understand it, is very popular among our Wisconsin friends. The current version goes something like this: "(Ahem) Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome home! And now I tell you a story. Once upon a time a girl walk down the street. The end!"

A bit o' digital housekeeping now: I just rearranged the Flickr photos, breaking out each of Gaz's years-in-pictures into their own sets. The link to the right >> should take you to her current year, with the pictures arranged newest first, so there's no long loading and scrolling to do to get to the new stuff. A thousand apologies for not doing this a long time ago. Believe me, I have just suffered aplenty in the tendon to get these spiffified. Enjoy!

Seven Hundred Thirty-one Days

Right this minute Gaz is sitting in her new Radio Flyer wagon eating blueberries with her doll, Sweetie. I tried to get her a used wagon on craigslist, but the lady I connected with never did tell me where she lived or where to meet her. Then when Gaz got a healthy amount of birthday money, we just decided to go for one with seatbelts (considering how daring Gaz is, we probably should have planned on doing this from the beginning).

As I already noted, Gaz has been talking constantly. Every day now, we have an explosion of various magnitudes of new words and word combinations. There are so many new words, that I can't tell anymore if a word is in fact new or I was too overwhelmed with other words the last time she said a thing.

"My turn!" has replaced "Self!" as the new way for her to express her desire to do a thing by herself. She demands that it is her turn to do it herself for everything from cutting up a cucumber for a snack (which I don't allow, in case you were worried) to driving the car (also not allowed, in addition to being not possible) to brushing her teeth and combing her hair. Today she got dressed all by herself. Okay, she had a tiny bit of help from me: I straightened her shirt out so she could get her arms in the correct sleeves, and I helped her get her waistband over the bulky backside of diaper.

Now Gaz has moved on to playing in the wagon box. She's in there with a flashlight yelling "keep me!" Not sure exactly what that's about, but it's cute.

She's still singing and dancing all the time. She's still got her old favorites ("Animals! Animals animals ANIMALS!" and "Unicorns" and "Dinosaurs", which are all the same tune with different words) and some new ones too. The best one hasn't been repeated in a while, but I'm sure she'll sing it again soon. I've never gone on about infant excrement here and I don't plan on going on about the toddler variety, but we're going to get close to that subject. I promise it's funny, though.

The other day I was here at the laptop and Gaz was playing under the dining room table with some balloons. There is a fan on the other side of the table, so when an ill wind blew my way I knew who the culprit was. "Do you have a poopy* diaper?" I asked. "No, Mommy," was the initial response, but even before I could get down on hands and knees to coax her out I started hearing the new song: "Pooooooopy daaaaaaaahhhhhhhhper! Pooooooopy daaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhper!" I laughed myself stupid. The adorable babyish pronunciation makes it. And now let me share with you another song of hers:

Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, H
Twinkle, twinkle, what you are
H I J K L M N O P
Q R S
T U V
W X Y and Z!

She's also obsessed with They Might Be Giants's album "Here Come The ABCs." She knows the names to most of the songs and has her favorites that she like to sing along with. "Go for G" is quite popular these days.

Now Gaz has filled her wagon with pillows and insists that she is sleeping. I have to go explain again that I can't join her in the wagon. I think this is just about all the new stuff. Except that she's got three of her two-year molars out and about. Still waiting on the lower right to make its entrance. Wooo!

Oh, and if you are localish and haven't received the e-mail about our local birthday party plans, drop us a line!


* I don't like using cutesy names for bodily functions, but I do make use of and advocate "poopy" as an adjective.

The Week That Was

It has been a trying week.

First, I've been trying to break Gaz of a bad habit that I've allowed to run rampant for far too long. She always likes to hold onto the spare breast when she's nursing, and since this has never really bothered me, I let her. But it does make public nursing that much harder when she's used to doing things a certain way that involves me exposing more of myself than I really want to. So on Tuesday when she lifted up my entire shirt for her first-of-the-morning nursing session, I just decided that I had had enough. I clamped one hand over the spare breast and so began the battle of wills. I won, of course, but it took an hour and a half of her crying and me explaining and attempting to soothe for her to settle down enough to nurse. She's still testing me, but she's getting better. Sometimes I don't even have to cover the spare breast.

The side effect of this is that Gaz has been a bit more irritable than usual. Twice this week she's woken up from naps and cried hysterically for more than twenty minutes at a stretch, and after Wiggleworms this week she had a nice, long fit induced by the frustration of one little girl stealing her shaker and not getting to strum the guitar as much as she wanted.

But in amongst the unhappy moments have been some real gems. Tuesday I had a dentist appointment, and Mark met us up at the dentist's office to take over Gaz duties while I got cleaned and x-rayed (no cavities! hooray!). She really missed me and when we stopped for dinner afterward, she sat next to me and showered me with hugs and kisses when she wasn't trying to destroy my water glass.

On the way home from Michigan last weekend Gaz unleashed a new sentence on us: "I excited!" I hear it all the time now when I'm bringing food to the table or getting out a snack or settling in with her to nurse. She's also insistent about which side she nurses on, always asking for the "good one." The good one is never the same one twice, so that makes things hard to predict. But I'm loving the new depths to her vocabulary and expression.

Two Weird Little Things

Last Friday we took Proton to the vet because, wonder of wonders, he's peeing on everything. Again. So we go (Gaz of course had the best time talking to all the people and animals), get pills, come home and he doesn't want to come out of his carrier. Fair enough. So I leave the door open and eventually he decided he was hungry and finally left his wee cage.

The carrier, though, is not a typical cat carrier. It's small dog size, both because Proton is a large cat (13 pounds of sinewy jungle cat, dontchaknow) and because he freaks out somewhat less if he's got pacing room. This also means that the carrier is big enough to entice curious toddlers.

She first demanded that Proton vacate the carrier so she could get in, and when he didn't leave she tired to squeeze in alongside him. That obviously didn't work and she soon gave up, but in that space of time between when Proton went for a snack and I noticed that he was out and about, Gaz managed to get in the carrier. She went in butt first and got everything but her legs inside. But then she wanted to move around and when she couldn't go forward or backward or in or out, she started crying hysterically. I tried to help her wiggle out, but I couldn't get her to keep both arms on the outside. All I could think of was to take the top off the carrier. So while I frantically attacked the screws, Gaz finally figured out how to get her legs inside, after which it was much easier to crawl out. And crawl back in. All that mama adrenaline for nothing!

The other weird little thing: she's eating Cheerios with a fork. And it's working!

Recently Overheard

Mark: (hands something to Gaz) Here you go. Now you say "thank you."
Gaz: I welcome!
M: No, you say "thank you" and I say "you're welcome."
G: I welcome!
M: How about you say "thank you" and I say "you're welcome?"
G: Thank you I welcome!

Mark: Hey Gaz! I love you!
Gaz: Hello to you too!

Mark: Would you like a chip?
Gaz: Chip please!
Mark hands Gaz an extra-BBQ-y Grippo's chip
Gaz: (makes a face that would break a thousand hearts with its sheer unhappiness) I love it!
Gaz rakes out the slobbery chip from her burning mouth while Mom gives Dad the business for handing her such a spicy chip.

If anyone asks her to do something, her default response these days is, "Okay. I'll try." Sometimes she'll tack on a melodramatic sigh, the poor long-suffering child. Another charming thing is when I tell her that, say, I've got to get her shoes on her so we can go outside, and she yells "self!" or "no! self!" or "I self!" because she wants to do everything all on her own. I thought I had some more time before the premature independence kicked in, but no dice. It's really cute when she's not doing it some day when we should have been out the door ten minutes ago.

She's got a million crazy things to say these days, and I'm excited to see what madness occurs when we visit Emily, Kyle, and The Goils this weekend for Evynn's fifth birthday party!

"I did it!"

Gaz is now declaring "I did it!" when she accomplishes things. If only she would start saying "yatta!" Well, we'll work on that.

We've fallen off the potty wagon, with the last five attempts or so ending in accidents on the bathroom floor or just a whole lotta nothing. Oh well. I didn't think it was going to be that easy, really.

Mama Gaz?

Last night when I laid my weary bones down next to Gaz, I fell asleep. I often do this these days, because there are few things as soothing as slipping into unconsciousness next to your angelic little sleeping child.

And, as I often do, I woke up two hours later. Usually I'll get up and get a few things done before going back to sleep, but last night I was thinking I'd just doze off again. Until I noticed that instead of Gaz snuggled up next to me, I had a small stuffed monkey toy pressed against my chest, and Gaz was sound asleep with her head and shoulders up on Mark's pillow.

It seems that not only did I doze off, I dozed off well before Gaz did. And instead of making a nuissance of herself, she tucked me in and laid down on daddy's pillow where she eventually fell asleep.

I'm a little bothered by my beating my sleepy child to dreamland, but even more overcome by the cuteness.

All About the Words

These days, it's words, words, words. New words, words used in fun new combinations, you name it, Gaz is doing it. We're starting to get more real sentences and words used more appropriately, which is the coolest. Gaz has sucessfully identified emotions in books and her Baby Einstein DVDs ("sad" is pretty easy, and she's always excited to point out happy faces). She's much better about indicating what she wants to eat accurately (not just saying the nonsensical "no," but requesting specific foods). It's all a blur of life getting simultaneously easier and more complicated. But hooray for words!

She still can't say "grandpa" so both grandfathers are "Papa"--Mark's dad is "Papa Pen" because he always has a pen or two in his shirt pocket and my dad is "Papa Dog" because he's got a big fluffy dog at home. Her little brain is the greatest.

Then there's the singing. She really loves "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and she's started singing along (more with Mark than with me, but she likes to show off for Mama sometimes). She also likes "Ring Around the Rosey," particularly the "ashes, ashes" part. Oh, and the falling down part. Good times.

She looks like a tiny person these days, not just a giant baby. It's cool. One of these days I'll upload more pictures. But first, sleep!

New Annoying Tricks

Fake crying, complete with hands over the face, full-body heaving "sobs," and, if you're lucky, collapsing in a dramatic heap on the floor. Oh, it's a wonder!

And everything is stinky. Cat? Stinky. Dinner? Stinky. My breast? Stinky. Flowers? Stinky. If it can be sniffed by Gaz, it will surely be pronounced Stinky.

Those other cute words

In addition to pocky (pocket), we have bocky (broccoli) and banky (blanket). And she did all that cute-ifying without any baby talk from us, I must say. We talk to her in normal voices, using normal human words because we are word people. This brain sponge period would be completely wasted if we only said things like "wittle," "mawage," or "dweam wiffin a dweam."

I expect she'll figure out R's and L's soon enough. I hope she does before she starts trying to say "clock" or "frog" in public. Oh yeah, she's got a problem with G's too. :-)

Gaz is feeling fabulous, if just a touch snotty. I still feel like crap on a crap cracker, but I expect I'll improve. I'm at least well enough to get Miss G to Wiggleworms this week.

Some new Gazness: she's figured out some climbing feats, such as climbing up onto the dining room chairs by herself without splitting her face open (yay!) and climbing up into bed with the help of one of our under-the-bed storage boxes. I showed her the boxes on Thursday, and by Friday she had figured out how to use them for climbing up to get the cat.

But the best thing she can do is tell us that she is happy, which she does now with actual words. She will pull Mark and I together for a big family hug and, grinning from ear to ear, shout "happy!" I'm trying to teach her the sign for happy, but it's getting lost in "please" because they are so close. It's another heartmelter. She knows just how to cap off a week of sickness and cranky.

Whatta gal.

Wheeeeee!

We are having an absolute blast lately. There have been tantrums, of course, but by and large Gaz is wowing us with how much she understands and can do. To wit:

- Today we called her to dinner and she showed up at the table with a spoon in hand, ready to eat! No one told her to bring a spoon, but she did!

- Today I found two Gaz-sized plastic forks and a Gaz-sized plastic spoon in her onesie. She's been picking things up and hording them for later. Why she thought she needed all those implements, I have no idea.

- We were pretending to give shots with her animal hospital play syringe, and she really liked giving me "shots." I said "Ouch! Oh, that's not bad," and then Gaz started saying "nah bah."

- She's also working on "hello" (huh-oh) and "Dipsy" ("Deeesee"). She's got Po pretty well down, but Tinky Winky and Lala apparently sound way too funny for her to try to repeat.

- She helped me sort laundry yesterday, and is really good this week about bringing her socks and/or shoes and/or jacket to one of us when it's time to go someplace.

- Her ability to express what she wants, while still complicated at times, is really improving dramatically. Sometimes it's just pointing, but she's really good as acknowledging when I've hit upon what she wants. I'm amazed every day.

- Her fine motor skills are taking off too, as she's much better about really using the keys for her recently-acquired key toys. I'm very proud of my girl.

- She has a new toy laptop computer (a gift from Auntie Lis) and she LOVES it! Now she can be just like Mama and Dada. If only ours were as sturdy as hers. She's been sitting on it, throwing it, and who knows what else when I'm cooking breakfasts and lunches.

Imagination is free (thank God!)

Gaz has some fun new games she's playing.

First, as Nana Cel pointed out, there is a shelf in our bedroom that Gaz likes to stand next to and tap with her fingers in clear imitation of me standing at my laptop, typing away. (We've got a box on top of our short file cabinet where I often have my laptop set up so I can check work email during the day without giving Gaz the opportunity to pull any more keys off my keyboard.) She does have a little kid laptop that she will be receiving soon from Auntie Lis, but she'll be getting nothing more techonologically advanced from us for a few years yet. We've still got our old computer that she can have when she's old enough to demand computer games. I know it can't be too much longer.

The next cool thing is that she's now playing the piano. By "playing" I mean doing the finger tap thing while singing "doo doo dah doo," and by "piano" I mean the marble slab we've got sitting on top of my old TV that serves as a stand for the space heater in our bedroom. She squats down next to the Zenith and taps away on the marble, singing something vaguely music-like. It's adorable and I have no idea why she's doing that instead of playing with her Leap Frog musical table thing, but hey, she's using her brain to imagine things and we all know that that is not a bad skill to have.

How Gaz liquified my insides

Usually Gaz does one of two things at bedtime: she nurses to sleep or she nurses for a few minutes and then rolls over, snuggles up to me, and then goes to sleep. Twice last week she did something a little different. She nursed for a while and then climbed up on me, threw her arms around my neck, and rested her cheek on mine. That's how she drifted off to sleep those two nights.

The two best bedtimes ever. My heart melts anew every time I remember; I know I will cherish the memory of those nights the rest of my life. My little girl is the greatest.

More Words

It's freaky how fast the vocabulary is growing. Latest entries are: shoes and home. Or ham; we're not too sure which, baby pronunciation being a little "mushy" if you will.

She's been a lot of fun this weekend, micronaps aside. Mark and I just spent the last hour or so grinning at each other while Gaz ran around being cute.

Life is pretty good.

cute phaser on KILL

I know. Lots of posts lately. It's because I've got the laptop on constantly for work. But on to the meat:

Gaz does two really brain-meltingly cute things lately. First (and she's been doing this for maybe a week now), she gives kisses now. And not the open mouthed protokiss that babies do, either. These are cute little kid kisses. She's yet to figure out how to pucker her lips, but she's most of the way there. Adorable.

But this morning really took the cake. I was laying on the couch after we got up as I'm completely wiped out from a very busy work week. (Maybe 3 1/2 hours of sleep last night, for reference, and that's about par for the course this week.) So there I was, all blah and mopey, when Gaz discovered a beam of sunlight coming into the living room from our dining room windows and then decided to try to catch it. She tried to grab it in the air, she tried to pick it up off the rug, but couldn't get a hold of it. She was a little perplexed, but still very amused. The sight liquified what was left of my brain and various other insides, but I still have enough grey matter left to proclaim that I will never forget that moment.

Auntie Angeli was dead-on when she described toddlers as cats with opposable thumbs.