The Kind Of Thing I Should Be Blogging About
Eve is walking now. It started officially about mid-month, and has only accelerated since. Everyone told us that our life would never be the same, and I suppose that's true, although once she learned how to pull herself up on anything within arm's reach -- including very displeased cats -- we've been in remove-everything-waist-high-or-below mode. Crawling with lightning speed + pulling herself up on everything isn't much different from walking, panicked-parent-wise.
She's not very verbal. I mean, she makes noise and babbles and yells and occasionally does one helluva pterodactyl impression, but she doesn't have an extensive vocabulary that I know of. She understands plenty, of that I'm sure, but she's not repeating much. Which is perfectly fine by me because I am certain that once the floodgates open, she won't shut up.
It's inevitable.
Eve will not say "dada" but she will CHANT "daDUH! daDUH!" for minutes on-end. For the record, "Mama" has no such enthusiasm attached to it. I will, if pressed, get a "mamamamama" but those murmurings are few and far between.
She will meow.
She will say "banana."
She will answer "yeah" to things, but I'm not sure she means it.
She will do the sign for "more" if you ask her to. She will clap and high-five, and do "SO BIG!"
If you ask her where her nose is, she will point to it. Which is adorable and makes her seem kind of smart, until you ask her where anything else in the world is, "Eve? Where is your foot?" "Eve, where is the Eiffel Tower?" and she will also point to her nose.
She is a tiny little thing, still. She has itty-bitty feet and stubby legs. (I WONDER WHERE SHE GETS THAT FROM.) All her clothes fit poorly. Anything sized 12-18 months means they'll be too long, but anything smaller isn't wide enough in the waist or thick enough in the arms. We do a lot of pants-cuffing and sleeve-rolling.
Side note: Did you know that I actually had a pair of my yoga pants hemmed? That should tell you a lot, both about my height and about my commitment to wearing comfortable black clothing.
Mostly, Eve continues to be a wonder-child, in that she's still just great. She eats well, she sleeps well, she's fun and funny and she loves music and she and her six teeth are very healthy.
She is just starting to test her boundaries.
For instance, she knows she is not to climb the stairs, so she'll go over to them, look directly at me, and put one knee on the first step. And then grin. She gets the same grinning glint in her eye when she decides she wants to "pet" a cat, which we try only to let her do when closely monitored because "pet" and "smack" are not distinctions she's interested in learning.
She also hates having her hair in pigtails, and when she's had enough of playing nice, she'll look me squarely in the eye, pull her pigtail holder out and put it in her mouth.
Two days ago, she was buzzing around the kitchen and suddenly plopped down next to the cat bowls. She knows perfectly well that we do not like it when she plays in the cats' dishes, that she's not allowed to eat cat food, and that we really don't like it when she tips the cat dishes over for the purpose of spilling kitty kibble everywhere. But she likes to do it anyway. (Let's face it: it's fun.)
She grabbed the bowl and looked at me.
I said, as sternly as I could without yelling or sounding cross, "No."
She turned the bowl upside down.
I repeated calmly but even more firmly, "No. EVIE, NO."
And then she smiled and put her finger on her nose.
She's not very verbal. I mean, she makes noise and babbles and yells and occasionally does one helluva pterodactyl impression, but she doesn't have an extensive vocabulary that I know of. She understands plenty, of that I'm sure, but she's not repeating much. Which is perfectly fine by me because I am certain that once the floodgates open, she won't shut up.
It's inevitable.
Eve will not say "dada" but she will CHANT "daDUH! daDUH!" for minutes on-end. For the record, "Mama" has no such enthusiasm attached to it. I will, if pressed, get a "mamamamama" but those murmurings are few and far between.
She will meow.
She will say "banana."
She will answer "yeah" to things, but I'm not sure she means it.
She will do the sign for "more" if you ask her to. She will clap and high-five, and do "SO BIG!"
If you ask her where her nose is, she will point to it. Which is adorable and makes her seem kind of smart, until you ask her where anything else in the world is, "Eve? Where is your foot?" "Eve, where is the Eiffel Tower?" and she will also point to her nose.
She is a tiny little thing, still. She has itty-bitty feet and stubby legs. (I WONDER WHERE SHE GETS THAT FROM.) All her clothes fit poorly. Anything sized 12-18 months means they'll be too long, but anything smaller isn't wide enough in the waist or thick enough in the arms. We do a lot of pants-cuffing and sleeve-rolling.
Side note: Did you know that I actually had a pair of my yoga pants hemmed? That should tell you a lot, both about my height and about my commitment to wearing comfortable black clothing.
Mostly, Eve continues to be a wonder-child, in that she's still just great. She eats well, she sleeps well, she's fun and funny and she loves music and she and her six teeth are very healthy.
She is just starting to test her boundaries.
For instance, she knows she is not to climb the stairs, so she'll go over to them, look directly at me, and put one knee on the first step. And then grin. She gets the same grinning glint in her eye when she decides she wants to "pet" a cat, which we try only to let her do when closely monitored because "pet" and "smack" are not distinctions she's interested in learning.
She also hates having her hair in pigtails, and when she's had enough of playing nice, she'll look me squarely in the eye, pull her pigtail holder out and put it in her mouth.
Two days ago, she was buzzing around the kitchen and suddenly plopped down next to the cat bowls. She knows perfectly well that we do not like it when she plays in the cats' dishes, that she's not allowed to eat cat food, and that we really don't like it when she tips the cat dishes over for the purpose of spilling kitty kibble everywhere. But she likes to do it anyway. (Let's face it: it's fun.)
She grabbed the bowl and looked at me.
I said, as sternly as I could without yelling or sounding cross, "No."
She turned the bowl upside down.
I repeated calmly but even more firmly, "No. EVIE, NO."
And then she smiled and put her finger on her nose.
This video is in no way "special," just a few moments captured at the end of the day.
That video it TOTALLY "special"! She is a living doll. And a daddy's girl I think :)
ReplyDeleteAwww, what a little sweetie....and you can tell she is really crazy about her "Da-da"....:-)
ReplyDeleteHave you ever done radio or voiceovers? You have a great voice!
ReplyDeleteIt's a very sweet video. I like your voice, but it kinda freaked out my 7 year old when she heard it coming from my laptop.
ReplyDeleteOh- and I wonder why she's so interested in the cat when you ask her where he/ she? is.
All videos of our children are special. It may seem like a totally random moment that has no particular significance. Later, when she's older, you will be so glad you have a recorded memory of how precious your little girl was. Just a little slice of life.
ReplyDeletebtw, I left the previous comment and I didn't mean to imply that you thought your video/child wasn't special. I think I know what you meant. I was trying to point out that the random, little moments of life end up being special when they're recorded and viewed at a later time. Obviously you think your little girl is special. She is.
ReplyDeletethat was really cute!
ReplyDelete