Halloween: A Preview

Considering my kid hasn't really wanted to take off her crown since we showed her exactly what it was/how she should wear it, I think it's safe to say that she seems a little too comfortable in the princess role.

This either means we're doing something terribly wrong...or we're actually the best parents, ever.

I guess that just remains to be seen...

Scenes from a playground

Brigid came down with a bit of a cold this weekend, and even though she seemed to be feeling much better on Monday morning, I decided to cancel our trip to the library for Halloween stories and trick-or-treating because I didn't want to be the mom who brought sniffles and coughs and general ickiness to a roomful of toddlers. I'd rather not be the cause of another parent's sleepless night, if I can help it.

Instead, I took Brigid for a walk around the neighborhood to drop off our RSVP for this weekend's neighborhood Halloween party at the clubhouse, and while we were over there, we decided to hit up the playground for a few minutes. Except that a few minutes stretched out a little longer than I'd planned...







I hadn't been to the playground with B since the spring, because Atlanta summers are too hot for such nonsense as, you know, going outside, but wow...that kid has learned a few things in the last couple of months.

Like how to say 'no home!' when I ask her if she's ready to leave.

But I've learned a few things, too, you know...

Hey Bug, want a Popsicle when we get home?

Done and done...

New Hat

Seriously, anything that makes my kid laugh like this is o.k. with me...

Princess Brigid says...

...'thanks for the dress-up trunk, Auntie Jess!'




(Her mother and father, on the other hand, request that Auntie Jess come visit us in Atlanta very soon, at which point we will make HER try to put the princess to bed when she's in the mood to play with said dress-up trunk instead...)

(In all seriousness, though, Jess...we love it! Also, I look AMAZING in Snow White's headband and jewelry.)

Boo!

YOU GUYS!!!! IT HAPPENED!!!!




After two years of disappointment, two years of feeling unloved by our neighbors, two years of being mocked by the ghosts on every other house but ours, two years of general SCORN*...we were Boo'd this year. Steve and I took Brigid out to dinner on Monday night, and we came home to our very own ghost, on our very own door, with our very own box o' treats. And I may have gasped/squealed/chair danced in the car when we pulled into the driveway, and I realized we'd been hit.

(But, but...it wasn't just me! Brigid was excited too! Or, at least she was once I took her up to the porch, and she saw the ghost. Also, she's added some additional Halloween lingo to her vocabulary now...not only does a ghost say 'wooooooo', according to her, but he also says 'boo!'. Because, you know, he totally does.)

The best part was that I got to go shopping the very next day to put together my own boo bags, and then I was free to creepily wander the neighborhood on Tuesday night, looking for dark porches on which to leave them. It was awesome. And I am slightly weirder than I'd like to admit, apparently.

Eh, whatever. I had fun, anyway...



*Yes, I may be overreacting slightly to not being Boo'd for two years, but I am a delicate soul, ok? I wanted to play along. I wanted to be included. I WANTED THE FREE CANDY!!

Decisions, Decisions

This kid, she takes her pumpkin picking very, very seriously.

And she makes her demands known, obviously.

And, yes, she always gets what she wants...

We're such suckers.

Home Again...

With Steve and I leaving early on Friday morning for a trip to Omaha for my college roommate's wedding, we didn't get to see Brigid for TWO WHOLE DAYS!!! Two and a half, actually, if you count the Sunday morning we missed because of the return trip. And I missed her terribly.

But while Brigid was very excited to see me when I walked in, she dropped me in a heartbeat for her daddy. And then when I got her up this morning to start our day together, she was thrilled. Until she asked for dad, and I had to break the news to her that he was at work. Then she was in tears.

Of course, all it took to calm her down was breakfast and a movie, so maybe she was just feeling a bit overly dramatic this morning, but still...

Good thing that whole daddy's-girl act is so cute on her, I guess.

Sad

Steve and I are leaving Brigid with my sister-in-law for the weekend, while we travel to Omaha for my college roommate's stateside wedding reception. And the closer we get to that flight tomorrow morning, the more worked up I get about leaving her.

I know she will be fine. I know I will have fun with my friends from college. I know that this is no big deal.

I'm still not ready to go without her...

Two Year Check-Up

The stats:

Weight: 26lbs 9oz (53th percentile)

Length: 35 inches (80th percentile)

I was definitely expecting to get a talking to about Brigid's weight gain, since I could tell that my former Michelin baby was thinning out, but the doctor wasn't too concerned about it. She just wanted us to make sure that when B does eat, she's eating food that's good for her, instead of filling up on empty calories, which we already try to do, for the most part.

Also, even though her speech development is still a little slower than Steve or I would like, apparently we have nothing to worry about. She's fine, she's talking enough to ease any concerns we might have, she'll get to where we think she should be eventually.

I like my pediatrician, she's been on top of everything we've dealt with so far in Brigid's short little life, I'm going to take her word on this one.

So...perfect baby. Which we already knew, of course.

And now, some gratuitous shots of the pumpkin patch:

Birthday Girl

Saturday was Brigid's birthday, but because we'd celebrated the occasion with her party last weekend, nobody really remembered what day it was when I finally got her out of bed that morning and brought her downstairs at my in-laws' house, where everyone was gathered.

So after I'd casually mentioned to her that nobody had even wished her a happy birthday, yet, everyone tried to remedy that all at once, and B was greeted with a slightly-louder-than-intended birthday shout from all corners of the room, which scared the living daylights out of her and led to five minutes of crying.

And now my kid is scarred for life.

The end.

(Ok, we didn't really scar her for life. She got over it pretty quickly, actually. But the next morning, my brother-in-law jokingly wished her a happy birthday, and she looked like she was about to start crying all over again. So...maybe we did?)

(I totally snagged these pictures from my BiL's facebook page. He takes much better pictures than I do.)

Two Years

I can remember, as a kid, wishing that time moved more quickly. I couldn't wait for the weekend, my birthday, Christmas, the family vacation, etc. Whatever was next on the calendar, it couldn't arrive soon enough to suit me.

And when my parents tried to tell me that I would eventually reach a point where all I wanted was for time to stand still, I thought that they were crazy. Because why would I want today to last even longer, when tomorrow seems so much more exciting?
And then, Brigid came along.

And every day, she seems to grow another inch. And every night, as I rock her to sleep, she fits a little less perfectly on my lap. And every week, she's mastered some new trick that she shouldn't be able to master, because SHE'S STILL MY BABY, for crying out loud.

Except, she's not really a baby anymore, is she? She's a full fledged person at this point, with her own ideas and opinions, a sassy attitude and a wonderful sense of humor. She can actually ask for what she wants now, she operates the various Apple products in our house better than most of her grandparents would, and she loves her daddy more than just about anybody else in the world, myself included.

She's a fan of the Disney princesses, Belle and Rapunzel in particular, but she knows there's always a time for Jack Skellington, too. She picks out her own pajamas, she likes to help pull weeds, she dances like a loon to Gaga every night before she goes to bed. She knows which Gaga song is playing just by the opening notes, in fact. She's too shy to accept a free balloon or hand stamp on her own, but if mommy or daddy are there to back her up?

Well, then she's all over it.

She does the best ghost impression I've ever seen. She is one of the few people I know who is actually cool enough to pull off wearing her sunglasses at night, while inside. No matter how much she's eaten at a meal, or how full she acts when she's done, if I pull out a piece of cheese, she's going to want half of it.

She loves her dogs almost as much as she loves her daddy, except when they try to steal that cheese.
(The leftover turkey she's refused to eat, though? That's fair game)

She is pretty much the most perfect two-year old I've ever met, and I would be perfectly content to freeze time on this moment forever, because...yeah, I love this kid more than anything else in the world.

Happy birthday, Bug!

Here's to another wonderful year of being your mom-mom...

Club Brigid

Last night, Brigid wanted to do her bedtime book reading while sprawled across my lap, using my stomach as a pillow and my legs (which were propped up on an ottoman in front of her rocker) as a bed. It was...about as uncomfortable as you'd imagine, I think.

So, after spending all of storytime trying to maneuver the kid into a position that made us both happy, I finally gave up any hope of a pre-bedtime cuddle (which is the best part of the day, honestly, and something I was less than thrilled to lose) and asked her if she was ready to get into her crib.

She was.

She was so ready, in fact, that she practically launched herself off of my lap, toward the general direction of her bed, because she was done with me. No more rocking, no more singing, no more hugs or kisses. Done. PUT ME DOWN, WOMAN!

She knows how to stroke the parental ego, you know?

Once I put Brigid down in her crib, she always gets one more song sung to her, complete with a backrub (which she will demand, loudly, if I try to shirk my duties), followed by a wind-up of her Winnie the Pooh music box and a final good night pat from me. Most of the time, I get something in return, but whether it's a night-night, a 'leave me alone already' wave, or a shriek of serious anger that I would dare make her sleep on that particular night...well, that's just a crapshoot.

And, as it turns out, sometimes it's none of the above. Sometimes,* as I'm leaving the room, I will hear a giggle, and I will turn around to find Brigid holding up Pooh in one hand, Tigger in the other, shaking them like there's no tomorrow and rocking out to the sweet sounds of a music box. And I will laugh at her, tell her she's the biggest goofball I've ever seen, and watch her grin as she snuggles in with both of them wrapped up in her arms for the night.

And then I will have to fight every urge in my body that wants to go grab her out of her crib and make her snuggle with me for the next twenty minutes because, as common sense would tell you, when the toddler is ready for bed, you let her go to bed. But man...

It's hard to leave her when she's that cute.

(Of course, when it's the shriek of anger I get, I just duck my head and run out fo the room as quickly as I can, because that's not nearly as cute...)


*By sometimes, of course, I mean just this one time, last night. Most likely never to be repeated, again, I'm sure. But 'sometimes' just sounded better there. Creative license...

Overboard?

So, Brigid's birthday is next weekend, but because we are going to be up at my in-laws' house for the weekend, we went ahead and celebrated a little early. And I spent all last week trying to get ready for the party, even though the party consisted of all of about ten people, because that's what I do.

I do excessive...

Of course, Brigid woke up on party day with a slight fever, and I thought we were going to have to cancel the whole thing, but the fever seemed to fade as the day went on, and it never came back, and she wasn't acting sick, and I don't know. We went ahead with it all.

I'm pretty sure it's all teething related, anyway.

I'm also pretty sure that I'm going to be an emotional wreck next weekend, because TWO YEARS OLD?!?!?

Who in the heck told her she was allowed to be two years old?

PS: The cake was all Steve's doing, because he does excessive, too. The decorations were my area, and you can see the rest of those over at Style Lush today, if you want to fully experience the crazy.

Oakland Cemetery, Part 2

So, I guess you could say we're kind of a weird family. And we kind of like to do weird things sometimes.

And one of those weird things seems to be an annual trip to the historic Oakland Cemetery, for their Sunday in the Park fundraiser, to take pictures of our kid among the tombstones.

(It's really not as weird as it seems, I promise. The cemetery is gorgeous, all proceeds go toward upkeep of the grounds, and the history of the place is just amazing to consider. These pictures are from the area dedicated to Civil War soldiers...and since Brigid is a true Southerner, we need to have her up to date on her history at an early age. Obviously.)

(Also, you can see last year's pictures here, if you want...)