Month: November 2005

The big event this week was, of course, Sam’s second Thanksgiving. Ger’s parents were here to help celebrate and make a huge meal with all the standard accessories. This year Sam ate the same things as we, though she was the only one who had a plate sporting a picture of a pudgy bear with a severe hunny addiction. And of course, after the meal there was pie. Chocolate, in this case.

Also noteworthy is an early Christmas gift from Grandma and Grandpa in the form of a tricycle, which Sam loves despite not yet getting the whole concept of self propulsion through pedals. Sure, it’s got a girly purple and white color scheme, but we bought a little black and silver Harley Davidson bell for the handlebar and she’s been practicing her “Don’t mess with me, I’m in a biker gang” scowl. Picking the thing out at the store was also interesting, in that it involved a trip to Toys R Us where four adults unshelved every tricylce in the place, formed a toddler-sized traffic traffic jam by placing them in the middle of the aisle, then repeatedly yelled “No, try this one, Samantha! Sit on it! SIT ON IT!” to a bewildered and slightly freaked out two-year old. But she loves it.

Pictures!

Sam also gave us a bit of a scare earlier in the week. Ger and her mom were cleaning up after dinner, I was sitting on the couch, and Ger’s dad was out on the patio while Sam sat in her high chair finishing her own meal. Suddenly I heard Grandpa shouting from the other side of the screen door and I looked over at Sam just in time to see her bounce off the carpeted floor after falling from the high chair we had apparently forgotten to strap her into. She had landed flat on her back, fortunately, and was fine outside of an intense “WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?” moment that had her in tears for a bit. Also, she can do long division now, so it kind of worked out okay. One thing is for sure, though: we’re now much more fastidious about strapping her into the high chair. If I had my way I’d secure her in there with a roll of duct tape and staple her clothes to the chair from now on.

Short update this week. Sam’s grandparents (Ger’s parents) are in town for Thanksgiving this year and she is enjoying the visit immensely, since it gives her some new people to read to her and to blow bubbles for her. The bubbles, in fact, are Sam’s new Favorite Thing In The World. Any moment when we’re not blowing bubbles for her is a moment when she’s pointing to the bottle and saying “Bub, bub.”

Thanksgiving is coming up, and it should be interesting this time around. Sam is old enough that she can eat “table food” this year, and judging from her typical appetite, there may be nothing but turkey gristle and bone left on the table when she gets through with it.

Pictures:

As you can see, Sam enjoys the park near our house, and we were surprised to find out that she is indeed coordinated enough to ride in the big swing. Well, if we sit her in it and watch her closely. Otherwise she’s just coordinated enough to fall out of the big swing.

Slower week this week without any incredible outings to theme parks or new toilets. So let’s start off with the pictures:

As you may notice, Sam has begun mastery of the fork, which is cause for some stress. Because, you see, once she learns to stab things, you’ve got to constantly watch your back. And her front. But at last count she still had two eyes, so I’d say she’s doing well. Sam’s hair has also grown to the point we can put it in pigtails, which looks cute but for some reason makes her look a whole lot older. Kind of sad, really. But cute. Like watching a cat try to do algebra.

The other big change this week is the introduction of real sheets and a blanket for Sam’s bed. The long-term transition will end up looking something like this:

Swaddling blanket → Sleep sack → Sleeper with minimal covers→ Pajamas with covers

We tried the covers and blanket last night and were surprised to find out that Sam didn’t kick them all off her, out of the bed, and across the street. It looks like she slept under them all night, but she did wake up at 6:30, about an hour earlier than usual, squawking and demanding to know what kind of chicanery was this.

Sam’s language continues to sprint forward as well. The kid babbles like all the time now, just repeating nonsense syllables and chatting away with herself like a Charismatic Christian speaking in tongues at a revival. She’s also repeating words back to us. Just know Geralyn poked her head in and asked what I was doing. I told her I was working on Sam’s update, and from behind her all the way out in the hall, Sam pipes up with “Opday!” Those of you keeping track at home can add that one to her vocabulary, as well as “Ish!” (Ice), “Go!” (Go, Let’s go), and “Poo” (toilet, don’t ask).

With these strides towards maturity also comes pitfalls, sometimes literally. Ever since Ger was pregnant, more experienced parents would just kind of chuckle and say “Just wait until the terrible twos” and give us the kind of look usually reserved for the overambitious villain about to get some kind of poetic justice. In fact, Sam must be advanced for her age, as she has already started to exhibit a few behaviors one usually associates with those years. For example, if I’m leading her by the hand towards somewhere she doesn’t want to go, Sam will go absolutely limp and flop to the floor, forcing me to either let go of her hand or risk snapping her forearm like a twig. She’ll also shriek with tears if we take something away from her or scold her for doing something she wants to do, like juggle knives and jugs of bleach. Well, at least if she continues at this rate she’ll be taking care of me in my old age by the time I’m 40.

It’s been quite a busy week for Sam this time around. Let’s get started…

Early in the week we decided to take that leap and introduce Sam to Professor von Potty, “Potty” for short. Sam was quite excited about her new plaything and took right to it. While we certainly have miles to go before we take her shopping for “big girl underpants,” Sam surprised us by actually using the thing a couple of times …when we stripped her down before her bath and sat her on it. And of course, Ger and I whooped, hollered, and gave each other high-fives like she had just won the Superbowl or something. And that’s all I really have to say on the subject right now. I actually have more candid photos, but I resisted putting them up for the world to see. Well, except this one, because the look on her face cracks me up.

Monday, of course, was Halloween. We gave Sam only a cursory costume this year, having decided that it wasn’t worth it to fork out cash for an elaborate costume she’d outgrow by the end of the night. So she was a pumpkin with her little orange shirt, orange pants, and stem hat. Here, here’s pictures:

As you can see, there was much candy and Sam had more fun playing with the colorful wrappers than eating it. We tried to give her a Kit-Kat bar, but had to put an end to that when she decided that eating it would be less fun than grinding it into the carpet. She did go trick-or-treating to a few neighbors’ houses, though, and seemed to enjoy it. She really enjoyed answering the door and looking at all the other kids in costume and would pretty much just spaz out and start giggling every time the doorbell rang.

The funniest part of the night was when I opened the door to find this one little girl, maybe two years old, and her mother. Before I could even say “Happy Halloween!” the girl marched through the doorway, past me, and into the living room where she began to inspect and play with Sam’s numerous toys. Her mother was mortified and just stood there on the porch, not sure what to do as she probably thought that rushing past me to retrieve her errant child would only compound the intrusion. I thought it was a riot, though, and gave the girl some extra candy for initiative.

On Saturday the festivities continued as we all went to Knottsberry Farm. You know, I need to write a big note that says “Jamie, you HATE amusement parks. DO NOT GO TO ONE!” and put it next to the door where I can see it every time I leave the house. Because like the sign says, I hate amusement parks. The reason we went to this one, though, was that it was free, had free parking, and the whole park was open only to me and my co-workers for our employer’s employee appreciation day. It’s kind of the company’s way of saying “Thanks for working so hard all year. Why don’t you go spend 20 minutes standing in line for a 30-second ride?”

In fact, it wasn’t all that bad. We spent the entire time in “Camp Snoopy,” which is the area set aside for children and the very short. I wouldn’t say Sam had the time of her so-far-short life, but she did enjoy it enough. There was a merry-go-round, a truck ride, and what appeared to be Sam’s favorite, a little race car track that did its best to give kids whiplash around the turns. I also tried, unsuccessfully, to win Sam a giant Elmo doll by throwing softballs at a row of sandbags and then cursing at them.

Here’s the rest of the pictures while we’re at it:

The last thing I’ll mention is a particularly weird but funny habit Sam has developed. I think that she must have overheard the old proverb of “He still puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like the rest of us,” which is often used to illustrate that an otherwise special someone is, when it comes to mundane things like dressing, just as ordinary as could be. So whenever we say to Sam, “Let’s take off the pants” she immediately runs to her toy chest, flops across it, and presents both of her pants legs at the same time by raising them up until they’re parallel with the ground:

As I say, anything but ordinary.