Out of touch?

Number of our good friends and relatives who have had babies since Halloween: 9
Number of said babies we knew about more than a week before their birth: 3

Whoops.

Newborns aside, the Christmas cards have Edith agog at all the new babies on the fridge whose names she has to learn. Though if they have thick, straight, blond hair (Erik...), she's sure they're "Edie."

Addendum

When I said that Edith laughs at jokes simply because we laugh, like someone in the crowd faking that she got the punchline, perhaps I spoke too soon.

Last night at dinner she was trying to maneuver strands of grated cheese into her mouth with some funny sucking action and finger motions that soon had cheese everywhere. As we often do at the table, Tom and I turned our eyes away from her and repeated to each other, "Don't laugh...don't laugh..." while suppressing snorts.

Edith looked at us and did her a-beat-late fake laugh. Then she said, "Funny. Edie. Messy." And faked another laugh. So maybe she does get the joke.

***

Last night on our family dog walk, Edith was full of beans. She yelled and danced and squealed as if trying to bring out the whole neighborhood. I turned to Tom with the unnecessary observation, "Can you say wired?"

To which Edith promptly replied, "Wired."

Conversations (mostly about Christmas trees)

Big, Bigger, Enormous

Edith and I are walking around town. We arrive at the giant decorated fir tree in Palmer Square.

E: Chi-mus tee! Beeg!

We pass a series of bonzai-type trees in box planters along the sidewalk, each decorated with bows and white lights.

E: Chi-mus tee. Lidduh.

We pass an ordinary unlit evergreen bush in front of a house.

E: Chi-mus tee. All done.

***

"But All the Other Kids Are Allowed To..."

We were at the public library, climbing the stairs to the children's floor. Edith was excited and started to yell.

G: Shhhh. Speak quietly.

E: (putting a finger to her lips) Hushhhh.

G: That's right.

Then she got excited again and recommenced yelling.

G: Shhh. You need to speak quietly in the library. There are people reading here.

E: (looking out over the tables of people) Weading.

G: That's right.

E: Hushhhh.

G: Yes.

We arrived at the children's floor and open the door. Three pre-teens were crowded around a computer monitor squealing, punching each other, and laughing loudly at something on the screen. Edith turned to me with a look of protest on her face.

E: Weading! Mommy! Weading!

***

A Cause Near to Her Heart

Edith is becoming known for pointing all the parents of members of her class toward their kids as they arrive for pickup. As we're headed out the door, she'll stop and tell any parents she sees, "Josh!" or "Zeke!" as she points back in the direction of their kid. She is adamant about it, repeating the kid's name until the parent heads off in that direction to collect his or her offspring. She's her own No Child Left Behind campaign.

***

Better than a Doll Stroller

Sunday morning we told Edith that her visiting relatives were going to come home with us from church so she could show them her Christmas tree.

When we got home, Harrison was getting out of his car with his dad at the same time.

"Go say hi to Harrison," I suggested. Harrison was running toward her shouting a happy greeting. Edith started to run toward him as she normally would, then suddenly looked panicked and shouted, No!" She turned and started running the other way, then turned back, and shouted, "No! Mine!" She wasn't holding anything. I realized she must be talking about the tree. She didn't want to let anyone else horn in on her opportunity to show it to her relatives. So she thought she better steer Harrison in the right direction. She ran up the sidewalk to his front door, patted the stoop, and turned to him shouting, "Harry! Harry!" Then she pointed to our stoop, "Mine!" Having satisfied herself that poor Harry was on his way to his own front door, she ran home to greet her guests.

***

I Know that Voice...

Edith is getting awfully good at mimicking. This morning Tom got up and dressed and fed her while I took a shower. When I got out, Tom was just crawling back under the covers.

Honey!" I exclaimed. "You're not planning to go back to bed, are you?"

Before he could answer, a little voice from the edge of the bed piped up in exactly the same cadence, "Honey!" Then she grabbed her father's hands and commanded, "Up! Honey!"

***

Say that Again?

We were walking home from daycare. We passed an apartment with a tree in the front window covered in white lights.

E: "Chi-mus tee."

We passed an apartment building decorated with multi-colored lights.

E: "Chi-mus."

We got to our apartment building, decorated with blue and white lights.

E: "Jewish."

Huh?

I know they learn about non-Christian holidays at school, but surely my kid isn't yet hip to the color codes imposed on holidays by consumer culture? I'm going to assume she was asking for juice...or something. She doesn't ever ask for juice on arriving home. Maybe I simply should have told her that I don't think many people string lights on their house for Chanukah...

Return of the Jingle Babies

Edith's Jingle Baby number went over so well in last year's daycare Christmas pageant that they asked her back. She explained that she's no longer a solo act but is now part of a big band. Management was cool with that and booked them all. Thus the Young Toddlers opened the 2006 pageant, snuggled around the Christmas tree in their pajamas awaiting Santa Claus...who eventually arrived pulled by (er, pushing) a sleighful of infant reindeer.



The strains of "Jingle Bells" wafted through the air (you knew Santa had a soundtrack), and the young toddlers got up and shook their jingle bells with glee. Well, most of them. Harrison and Torrey were way into it, and Timmy sat in front beaming beatifically. Edith smiled for awhile, then decided that this would be a good time to pick her toe jam.


The show then cut to Mary, Joseph, the angels, the star, etc., all ably represented by the older children. I missed the narrative link between the two scenes, but if anyone can point me to the verses in which a Santa-bedecked toddling candycane visits the manger after Jesus has already left, I'd appreciate the refresher on Biblical history:



And you'll have to tell me what it means when Mary and a Wise (Wo)Man disguised in streetclothes run off with said toddler, announcing, "This is our favorite baby."

Happy Advent!

Giving thanks, part II

When it comes to giving thanks for things about Edith herself, it's of course only too easy. But it's especially so in the last couple of weeks, when we seem to have again passed a milestone--or rather, one of those signs noting the summit of a hill you otherwise might have missed along a gradually sloping road--after which we marvel at the subtle but significant changes in our growing girl. One of the parenting books I read claimed that the so-called "terrible twos" actually peak at 18 months. I hardly want to start crowing that we're past unbridled willfulness lest fate smack me upside the head, as one of our readers once put it. But it certainly seems true that for now, at least, we're living with a communicative and agreeable child who enjoys knowing the rules and playing by them. And so right now we give thanks that Edith

-Responds readily to the notification that it's time to leave any place or activity. I know I shouldn't tempt the gods by writing this, but for the moment it's such a joy to say "Sweetie, it's time to go" and to know that however fun the activity in question, she'll stop and wave a loud and cheerful "Bye!" to friends, teachers, the slide, or the sandbox and toddle off with you in the right direction.

-Understands the word "dangerous" and quickly leaves off any activity we so designate. She's even beginning to know the tone of voice that usually accompanies that word and to respond to any admonition carrying that tone, no matter the words.

-Also understands when we're tickled and will join in laughing at almost any joke, like the guy at the party who doesn't want to be left out and so guffaws somewhat awkwardly a second behind the beat...which in Edith's case only makes us laugh harder.

-Can unzip her jacket.

-Makes sure everyone hangs up his or her jacket first thing when we enter the house. (Mommy is especially excited to see her persuade Daddy to play this "game" with her...)

-Likes to go to bed at the end of the day. I appreciate that fear of the dark has not been one of our parenting challenges--it's usually Edith who asks me to turn out the light.

-Often likes returning belongings and toys to the child to whom they belong.

-Loves running fetching and clean-up errands around the house for us.

-Just yesterday started using an affirmative! As we'd been forewarned, it's "yeah" rather than "yes" (it apparently takes having a child to make most of us notice how rarely we pronounce the fully articulated "yes"), but it's so wonderful that I'd take even "yup" or "uh-huh."

-Has started using "Nooo" with a delighted grin and the inflection that means "You're being silly!" Combined with the former we can have such fun conversations now:

On an evening dog walk, Edith stares fascinated in a neighbor's window.

G: "That's Mr. Keith and Ms. Julie's Christmas tree."
E: "Chi-mus tee."
G: "Mmm hmmm. Isn't it pretty?"
E: "Lights!"
G: "What's it doing in there? Do trees grow inside?"
E (smiling): "Nooooo!"
G: "Do you want to go get a Christmas tree for our house?"
E: "Yeah."

We did, in fact, get a Chi-mus tee for our house this evening. Edith seemed stunned when we got to the lot and hardly said a word, gazing silently at the mini-forest of conical firs the whole time we walked around making our choice. But when she really got wide-eyed was when the salesman tied our chosen tree to the top of the car. When we got in and put her in her carseat, she stared up at the ceiling in awe, pointed, and said "Tee...tee..." She continued to crane her neck upwards and marvel at the "tee...tee...tee..." overhead the whole five miles home.

This is going to be a fun Christmas.