My girls

RUBY: Let’s get this straight. The only reason I tolerate your existence is solely because, A. THEY told me I HAVE to love you. And B. You’re a messy eater. I generally score two-to-three good bites after every meal you have. Other than that, I’m over this. You take up all of their attention and now that you’re super mobile, you think it’s HILARIOUS to chase me all over the place and try to take my tennis ball. And don’t even get me started on these TANTRUMS as of late. You always seem to pick MY naptime to throw your screaming body on the ground in front of me. NOT. COOL.

TAYLOR: But you get to lick macaroni and cheese off my face.

R: Well. I guess you got a point there.

T: Let’s hug it out.

Our friend Robert

We were treated with a short visit from one of Chris’s old college roommates, Robert, this week. Robert and his girlfriend, Emily, flew in from San Francisco to celebrate her sister’s wedding just south of Asheville. And with Emily obligated to stay with friends in Hendersonville, we had Robert bunk with us for a few nights. Meaning we stayed up way past our bedtimes each night, catching up, reliving old times at 313 North Linn and drinking like we did in our college days. And since the last time he was in town I was about nine months pregnant, it was great to finally be able to introduce him to our sassy Miss T.

Tiny dancer

Most of you who have who followed this blog for a minute or so know that I have some amazing pictures of my daughter. Lots of thanks to my wonderfully talented sister, Libba, who possesses an extremely fierce eye behind the camera. And I have also lucked into a few good shots myself over the past 18 months, with this one, which was taken last year at this time, being one of my all-time favorite pictures of my precious girl -

LOOK AT THOSE ARMS! And to think that she wasn’t even eating food yet. That’s one well-fed baby.

So today T got a super sweet Halloween-package in the mail from her Grandma and Grandpa Amys, which included a new Dora the Explorer book, a leotard and a tutu. Super adorable. Because I was already having sad heartstring twinges that I had to pack most of her swimsuits away the other day. Because nothing is more adorable than my little girl walking around in something tight with her belly sticking out. NOTHING. And because of this, I immediately changed her into her new ballerina outfit, and the cuteness just started flowing.

Seriously. How could you NOT kiss this girl’s cheeks all day? I dare you.

I like ‘em big

Taylor had her 18 month check-up with her pediatrician this morning and, no surprise here, she’s still gigantic. Her current weight is 28 pounds, 15 ½ ounces and she’s grown to 33 ¼ inches in height, with her updated stats keeping her securely stationed in the 95th percentile for kids her age. And when I nervously asked if she was getting TOO heavy, Dr Childers just laughed and said that she was the perfect weight for how tall she is. Whew! Because if he had said anything different, I was going to make HIM come over to our house and try to take away her lunch-time mac & cheese. That’s not a battle I plan on entering anytime soon.

And after running through the laundry list of questions and concerns, it was determined that my not-so-little girl is totally healthy and right on track of where she needs to be developmentally right now. In fact, both the doctor and the nurse kept remarking on what a good girl she was being during the visit, as most kids apparently freak out during their 18 month and two year check-ups. And she was a very good little peanut, until the nurse came back with Taylor’s shots. TWO shots. And the look that my daughter gave me when the first needle pricked her was like, OH. MY. GOD. And then she did the cry where her face got all red and she didn’t breath for about three minutes between screams. And then we came right home and ate mac & cheese.

18 months old

Today is Taylor’s 18 month birthday. A year and a half old. Which is nice, in that when people now ask me how old she is, I can just say, Oh, a year and a half, instead of spouting off her age in months. Which, unless they are parents themselves, they just look annoyed that you forced them to do math in their heads. So, there you go dumb, baby-less people, my precious girl is a year and a half old this month. But coming up she’ll be 19 months, so put on your thinking caps.

And I don’t read any parenting magazines or keep up with the baby-charts anymore, but I’m assuming that month-17 is the month that both their brains and personalities kick-it up a few notches. Because we’ve got one smart and sassy girl on our hands. Yep, obviously those brainiacs over at Baby Einstein know what they’re selling, because I’m pretty sure my daughter is turning into a genius. She is always trying to figure things out, snapping and unsnapping her booster seat, buckling and unbuckling her shoes, building with and knocking down her blocks, undressing and dressing her baby dolls, putting things back where they belong. Smarts. OCD. Whatever you want to call it, my girl is an itty-bitty think tank.

Her vocabulary has also grown in leaps and bounds since last month. And not just in WHAT she’s saying, but WHEN she’s saying it. She may babble and squeal here and there, but now she is actually TALKING to us. Asking for things, telling me what things are. She’s especially proud of her body parts knowledge, pointing to and saying, Mouth, Ears, Nose, Hair, Belly, and Eyes. But, be advised, she doesn’t warn you when she’s gonna show you where your eyes are. So if you get eye-gouged by my daughter, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.

And for some reason this month, I went from being Momma to Mommy. And not just mommy, I’m now MOMMY! And she’ll scream it at the top of her lungs like she’s trapped in an alligator’s mouth or being force-fed broccoli. And she’ll keep screaming it until I’m right next to her going, WHAT? And then she’ll just give me the cutest smile in the whole world and continue on with whatever she’s doing. And I’m fine with this, because I’m her Mommy. And she's my precious girl.

She also developed an obsession with car keys last month. Weird, I know, but whenever we go shopping and she’s in the cart, she’ll squeal KEEEEZ until I hand her my set, and then she’ll spend that rest of the trip in silence, holding the ignition key and forcing it in and out of the notches and grooves of the cart. Which is great in that I don’t have to worry about her grabbing things off the shelves or throwing things out of the cart. Not so great in that when we’re done and I actually need those keys to drive us to our house, and I have to dislodge them from her power-grip and she has a total melt down and sobs, Keeeez, Keeeez, Keeeez the whole ride home.

However, Taylor’s number-one fixation are still her beloved baby dolls. In fact, we need to have at least one baby with us at ALL TIMES. I have babies stashed all over the place, because HEAVEN FORBID we not have a baby doll with us for 30 seconds. Car - check. Diaper bag - check. Jogging stroller - check. And all of her dolls go through cycles, with her giving all her love to only one of the many we own at a time. We already have quite a doll collection started, and she is just precious with all of them. She truly does act like a mother to her babies, giving them bottles, placing them in her booster seat, strolling them around in her baby stroller, kissing them before she goes to bed. And NO, Bloggers, that doesn’t mean she’s ready for a little brother or sister. It just means she loves baby dolls. Trust me, I’m still trying to figure this one out. I am not quite ready to add an infant to the mix. Plus, I’m pretty sure my dog would run away if we brought another attention-stealer home.

So everyday is a new adventure, and now that she’s getting bigger, we are having so much fun watching the world through her eyes. Like going to the zoo earlier this week. She LOVED it. And it wasn’t just being outside and walking around, she actually enjoyed looking at the animals and interacting with the other kids there.

And that is so much different that when we took her to the Nature Center a year ago, and she just sat like a blob in her stroller, more interested in when lunch was than petting the animals.

And with the end of the year closing in on us, I can’t wait to see her reactions to Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. I can already tell you, she’s gonna like them. Because they involve candy, feasts, presents and lots and lots of yumminess. And where as last year, she didn’t know what was going on and really didn’t care, now she will be involved in creating our new family traditions. And while she still isn’t old enough to frost cookies or run down the stairs on Christmas morning, I’m pretty sure the next few months are going to be packed with more awww-moments and milestones than the number of baby dolls we have under this roof. Yep, THAT many. And we can’t wait.

Déjà vu

As I mentioned before, Chris is in St Louis this week for conferences, leaving Taylor and I the perfect opportunity to go down to Birmingham for a few days to hang out with my sister and extended Blackwell family. And just like our trip to the farm last month, T traveled like a champ. Most likely a result of all the baby gear I loaded in the car. Or the fact that she got fast food. Either way, Happy Baby = Very Happy Momma.

And not only was she a good girl on the car ride there and back, she was great during the entire visit. Which I was nervous about, considering that the last time we went down south in May, she had a kung-fu grip on my legs the entire trip and would freak out if I wasn’t within an arms length of her. But not this time. In fact, she handled the new faces and change of scenery like a pro, and was happy to entertain all of my family with her cuteness.

On Monday night we all gathered at my Granddaddy’s house to feast, drink lots of wine and celebrate both his and Libba’s belated birthdays. There were 17 people there, and with most of them being of Blackwell decent, the decibel level was equivalent to an outdoor concert. What can I say? We are called the loud family for a reason.

And FUN. Don’t forget how fun we all are.

And on Tuesday, my Aunt Jane and I took baby T to the Birmingham Zoo, a staple vacation-stop for Libba, Will and I growing up. Taylor proceeded to lick her way around the facility. Don’t worry, Mom. Jane and I bathed her in Purel when we got in the parking lot.

My girl most enjoyed the giraffes and the monkeys. She least enjoyed SITTING in the stroller, making for one tired, dirty little girl at the end of that adventure.

It was a wonderful trip, and I always cherish any amount of time I can spend with Libba and Dirk, Granddaddy and the Graffeo family. They definitely make my heart smile, and I thank them so much for all their wonderful southern hospitality.

Gimme a boost

Chris leaves on Sunday for another week of conferences in St Louis, so Taylor and I are taking a roadtrip down to Birmingham to hang out with Libba and Dirk, my Granddaddy and the Graffeo family for a few days. And even though we’re only going to be visiting until Wednesday, I’m already making mental lists of all the baby gear, clothes, food and toys required to keep my little princess a happy girl on our trip. Because if she doesn’t have her entourage of baby dolls, or her baby-stroller, or her Dora and Boots figurines, or her purse, or her fake-keys, or her bubbles within an arms length at all times, we’re looking at one wicked melt-down. The other day I tried to run a quick errand with her and just grabbed one baby and her purse to bring with her, and then had to listen to her whine, Doh-wah, and, Booooots, from the back seat the entire outing. And I was all, Hey, what about that BABY you’re holding? And she would scream, NO, and slap it out of her lap like it was on fire. And then she did the same with her purse. And then I turned up the radio.

So when I started gathering all the stuff we need to survive away from home, I realized that the only thing we had for a travel high-chair was one that clipped to the side of the table. And because T is a good 5-6 pounds heavier than the last time we used it, I decided it was time to just pull-the-trigger and buy her a booster seat. She had used one successfully while we were visiting my parents at the farm last month and, unlike the bottle to sippy cup fiasco, I didn’t think this would be a hard transition for her. I mean, come on, as long as there is macaroni and cheese on her plate, I don’t think she’s gonna care what she’s sitting on to eat it. Plus this way she has easier access to grab things off other people’s plates. And a better chance of knocking her own plate full of food on the floor. So, needless to say, Ruby is VERY excited about the booster seat.

And last night was the maiden-voyage with the new seat and she did awesome. And she looks like such a BIG GIRL in the booster, just sitting at the table with us, eating off her plate like a grown-up.

And this seat is about a million times easier to clean than the high chair, and I’m pretty sure there aren’t any crevices or cracks on it that can house rotting fruit. GROSS. That high chair had so much food-debris stuck and smeared on it that it was like a standing science experiment. But as much of a pain as it was to clean, it was a little sad to put it out in garage with the rest of the baby gear that Taylor has outgrown. We have a lot of memories and milestones that took place in that chair.

So long, high chair. You were good to us.