Pink and grammar.

Despite my best efforts, Number One has worn an awful lot of pink in her short life.  Now, whenever you ask her, "Sonic Youth or pink shirt?"  

She inevitably answers, "Pink shirt."

I wonder if she picks pink because she has always worn pink or because she really likes pink.

I'm impressed with Number One's use of the word "too," too.  I've got a growing impression that "too" is underused.  

"Papa go to park, too?"  She'll ask.

"Momma, get up, too."  She'll imperative.

I've always liked the way ", too." looked and sounded at the end of a sentence.  So much better than "also."

This morning.

The morning routine is that Number One wakes up and starts making noises for us to come get her out of her crib.  I go get her and bring her back to our bed, where we have a little family time and Wife and I try to get  a few more minutes in bed.

This morning, I brought Number One into the bed and laid back down as per usual.  She had other ideas, though.

"Papa, get up now," she said.

Wife thought it was hi-larious.

Momma. Coffee.

The other day, Mom and Number One took a walk to the coffee shop.  When they got back, Mom went to check her email.

Number One climbed onto the kitchen table and helped herself to Mom's double mocha latte.

At least it was decaf.

"Give me money."

Okay, it was funny at first.  

But now it's starting to get a little out of control.

Clarification.

Oh yeah, by "Hilarious," in the last post, what I meant was "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to teach her to say, 'Give me my money.'"

5-word phrase.

Number One put it all together today.

"Papa, give me my money," she said.

Hilarious.

Copy cat.

Number One pretty much repeats everything we say now - up to three words.

Thus, "Give me my money," is repeated as "Give me money,"  and "That's how I roll" is repeated as "That's how roll."

Pretty hilarious.

Yesterday, as I was leaving for work, The Wife said "Bye, honey."

Number One says, "Bye, honey."

Number Two.

We found out yesterday that Number Two is a boy.  Oh yeah, if I forgot to mention it, Momma's got another pot pie in the oven.

Now the naming gets tough.  On my list are Stonewall, Thunderbolt and Rhome.

On her's - a bunch of sissy names.

I'm the man of the house.  I get to decide this one.

Right?

Obligatory Texas Bluebonnet Picture.

On our way back to Houston after visiting the G-Parents in Dallas this weekend, Number One had just fallen asleep (an hour and a half past her naptime) when she woke up abruptly and very upset.  We needed to make a pit stop, so we pulled into a rest station just north of Huntsville.

Amazingly, it had a playground, which gave Number One a chance to stretch her legs and play long enough to tide her over for the remaining part of the trip.  But more importantly, it had a photogenic patch of Bluebonnets.  

I'd seen them all the way to Dallas and back - Texas in April, once you get past the urban sprawl, is really one of the most beautiful places on Earth - but I didn't want to be "that dad" that pulls over and shoots some pics of his kid on the shoulder of I-45.  This, though, was my chance.

And so, I present to you, the Obligatory Kid in the Bluebonnets Photo.

Comforting.

The other day, I was talking (IM'ing, actually) with my good friend who happens to live in Belgium and is expecting his first child this summer. It was about 3:45 a.m. in Brussels - Joe just happened to be up watching a Mizzou dominate Memphis in the NCAA tournament.

Momma, who was sitting next to me, made some crack about how watching basketball at 3:45 a.m. was "good practice for when that baby comes along."

"Comforting," was Joe's response.

At the time I couldn't think of much to say that would actually be of much comfort.

But this weekend, watching Number One run around and do all things she can do now, I realized that the real comfort is that before you know it, the baby becomes a child.

Sure, when you're in the middle of the Dark Time it seems like the little screamer will be a little screamer forever.

But they won't.

They'll start walking and running and talking and repeating words like "D-bag."

And now that we're expecting Number Two, that's comforting.

Trouble.

The other day Number One was sitting in my lap and saying "ba!" and gesturing for emphasis.  Given that "ba!" can mean several different things, I wasn't entirely sure what she was saying.

When I explained that I didn't know what she was talking about, she threw her hands up an rolled her eyes as if to say, "Oh, Papa, you are a poor dumb monkey."

Already?

Ups and downs.

This morning, I stayed home with Number One while wife went to a doctor's appointment.  We took a walk to the coffee shop.  It was one of those beautiful winter mornings in Houston - sunny, about 75 degrees.

Watching Number One watching the world made me jealous of parents who get to spend each day with their kids.

We came home, shared a blueberry muffin.  She laid down on her blanket.  She took a nap. 

Sweetest thing you've ever seen.

Tonight, I came home and sat down with her at dinner.  She looked ready to burst into tears at any moment.

After dinner, into the bathtub.  Total meltdown.  No apparent reason.  Only option was to get her into her pajamas and into to bed as fast as possible.

She's sleeping now.

Sweetest thing you've ever seen.

Two Words

Number One has begun putting together two-word combos.

So far we've had:

No mo.

Mo gee bee.   (More green beans)

and 

All done.

My little wordsmith.

Teeth!

We thought she'd be toothless forever, but Number One finally has some chompers coming in on both the top and the bottom.  She's nearly 16 months now, and every other baby on the block got teeth long ago.  We're so proud our little girl is growing up.

Last weekend Number One wanted some of Papa's coffee, so I gave her some.  Mom was not amused.  Number One, though, couldn't get enough.  (Don't worry, I only gave her a couple of sips, and she's not got any since.)

Her newest fetish is pushing things.  Wagons.  Strollers.  Other kids' toys.  If it's got wheels, she'll push it.  She can also walk backward now, which doesn't seem like a big thing until you see your kid do it for the first time.

New words:   Down!  Said to the cat who shouldn't be on the table.

A-ya, A-ya, A-ya, A-ya!  "Sang" to the tune of "Baby, Baby, Baby, Baby, I cleaned out my trailer for you."

The Inaugural Address.

Hey, America,

For the last 16 years, you've acted like a spoiled, petulant schoolyard bully with no self control.  You've been coddled by your touch-feely parents and full of "he started it" recriminations.

It's time to starting acting like an adult now.

Happy Inauguration Day.

Number One doesn't know we have a new president.  She does, however, say some random words like, "eyebrow."  She loves "eyebrows."

Other favorite words: "painting," "clean," and "brown bear."

Also anything warmer than cold is "hot."