Alex's First Words

About two months ago Alex's Uncle Jonas came to visit us.  I only mention this because he was a third witness and can back-up the events that follow.

During Uncle Jonas's visit we took note of Alex's new ability to babble; more specifically her ability to babble "mamma."  It was with a great deal of pride that I proclaimed her first word was "mamma" and told Marcus, a.k.a. "dadda," to suck it because she obviously loved me more.  We even did a test to make sure she wasn't calling everyone "mamma" and instead was directing it towards me alone.  Because "mamma" usually occurred during a time of great stress for Alex (read: cranky) we tested her during one such moment.  As we sat at the dinner table, with Alex at my feet growing fussier and fussier by the minute, Marcus and I switched chairs to test her new found vocabulary.  As she pathetically tried to climb her way into Marcus's lap nothing sounding remotely like '"mamma" escaped her lips.  Then, we switched chairs again, and immediately "mamma" was being said over and over while the tears and frustration increased.  I didn't want to gloat at that exact moment because she was having such a traumatic time but "Ha!  In your face, Marcus!" are the exact words that came out of my mouth and which may or may not have been accompanied by a happy dance.

Later that evening another friend of ours stopped by and the four of us adults sat around as Alex entertained us (I'll be so sad when she becomes self-conscious and won't let us just sit there and stare at her for hours on end).  She babbled "mamma" as I happily reiterated the fact her first word was my "name."  Marcus, apparently growing frustrated by the lack of respect Alex was showing him, picked her up and said "Whatever.  Alex, say 'Hi, daddy...'"  *pause for emphasis*  ...and she did.  All four of us were shocked and our jaws dropped in disbelief.  "It can't be that easy," Jonas said as we all whipped out our camera phones and started video taping Alex hoping to recreate the moment.  "Say, 'Hi, daddy'" was parroted to Alex while she sat there giving us her notorious you-are-an-idiot-stare.  Needless to say we haven't heard "Hi, daddy" since that evening.

Two months later and Alex's vocabulary has expanded yet decreased at the same time.  "Mamma" is rarely heard while "dadda" can't be said enough.  She likes to sing what we call the "dadda" song and which basically consists of "dadda" over and over and over again in varying tones.  Even when I give her a bath and encourage her to say "mamma" she just smiles at me and says "da!"  *sigh*  While I might have won the first word battle it's clear "dadda" has won the war.

Finally, she has a third "word" which we just recently recognized as being a word.  "Keh" is quite clearly "kitty" and I can't believe we didn't figure that out sooner.  After 10 months you'd think you know someone and their language (in)ability.  Anyway, Alex points her finger (sort of...it's more of a five finger point with one finger extended just a little more than the others) at the kitty and says "keh" repeatedly and sometimes with such great emphasis she's spit on me in her zeal.  Typically, the saying of "keh" is coupled with a great desire to pet manhandle the "keh."  Unfortunately "keh" does not share the same affection for Alex and tends to get juuust out of her reach.  I'm actually very grateful that we have a "keh" because without her we might not realize that Alex is beginning to associate names with objects.  This all makes for truly exciting times in the household...well, maybe not as exciting as our festive New Year's Eve but that's a story for another day.

This is Alex from the "keh's" point of view.

Alex Figures Out Who Santa Is

In the immortal words of Buddy the Elf:  "SANTA! OH MY GOD! SANTA'S COMING! I KNOW HIM! I KNOW HIM!" ~ Elf (2003)

Idiots

Every day I am reminded that we are surrounded by idiots.  Our lovely neighbors are a prime example and a brief review of just about any article's comment section on the Internet is another example of the stupidity I face on a daily basis.  It bothers me that Americans are required to attend school until we are 17 years old yet nobody seems to actually be learning anything (which is a whole other blog post for another day...that will probably occur around election time when I'm at my wits end with all of the ignorance that abounds...this will eventually lead into a blog post about stupid people breeding).

Anyway, there must be something about the area where we live that attracts the dumbest of the dumb.  While we live in a pretty nice neighborhood I suppose idiocy knows no boundaries.  At 2:30 in the morning Marcus and I were awakened (awoken?) by a young man practicing his skateboarding moves in the parking lot directly across the street from us.  Why, do you ask, was someone skateboarding at 2:30 in the morning in the freezing cold?  Well, I would respond, he is a classic case of a flippin' idiot.  A skateboard-flippin' idiot to be exact.  This normally wouldn't bother me at all except, well, it was 2:30 in the morning.  Maybe part of me is jealous that this young man apparently has no other responsibility except to skateboard in the middle of the night.  Or, maybe I'm just pissed off because he woke me up from a deep slumber.  It's probably the latter because, who am I kidding?  Even without the responsibilities that I have today you would be hard pressed to find me skateboarding at 2:30 in the morning...or any time of day for that matter.

The more I think about it, there must be something with that particular parking lot that attracts idiots.  Again, in the mornings, around 6:00 or so, the construction crews for the university across the street start to show up.  One morning this week they decided it would be fun to have a car horn fight.  Yay.  Please, continue honking your car horn at each other for approximately 5 minutes and think it's funny.  You know what else is funny?  A brick through your windshield.

So, what does this say about me?  Well, for one, I'm clearly not a morning person.  Two, I have zero tolerance for those who exhibit absolutely no common sense or regard for anyone but themselves.  Three, I think it's safe to say that by the time I reach the age of 70 (God willing) I'll probably be living in the mountains with a bunch of goats.

Alex vs. The Plant

Remember the time I said that Alex had done something bad and that, despite her short 9 months of life, knew she had done something bad?  Well, this weekend she did something even worse, though in her defense it was Marcus's and my fault that it happened at all.

This weekend we kicked off our fun, old-fashioned, family Christmas (Christmas Vacation, anybody?!) by driving out into the country and chopping down our own Christmas tree (we remembered the saw in case anyone was worried).  When we got it home Alex was hell bent on not taking a nap so I went ahead and started dragging the Christmas decorations up, from the basement figuring this would be fun for her and me.  At the same time Marcus was busy doing whatever it is Marcus does on a semi-lazy Saturday afternoon and so, between the two of us, we were preoccupied doing really important stuff (Read: maybe neglecting our child).

I have, or should I say "had," a basil plant on a plant stand in the living room in front of a window that gets the most sun.  I can't tell you how many times I've brought this plant back from the brink.  It's at least 3 years old and has maybe 1 more life left in it.  Once Alex started crawling I knew it would have to go elsewhere but that elsewhere is Marcus's office and I don't like to leave the curtains open in that room during the night because of all of the electronics in there.  In addition it's virtually impossible for me to remember to open those particular curtains in the morning, allowing the plant to get sunlight and thus the potential for nearly killing the plant increases.  So, long story short, the plant was in the living room despite the fact I knew that was a bad idea.

Now, Alex is crawling and most recently has mastered the fine art of pulling herself up.  Both of these activities should  have indicated to me that now was the time to move the plant out of the living room but "lazy" is my middle name and I just never got around to moving it.  It would have been in my better interests to listen to my inner voices (this one time, anyway) and move the darn thing because this weekend Alex set out to murder my plant for the last time.

As I was trimming the tree and Marcus was doing Marcus stuff we both watched as Alex crawled to the basil plant.  We even watched as she grabbed the top rung of the plant stand and both thought to ourselves, "That's probably not a good idea," only to turn around and go back to the really important things we were doing.  Within a matter of seconds the inevitable crash of a potted plant and child reverberated through the house.   Marcus and I looked over to see Alex, in a daze under the plant stand (which is very light before anyone gets all CPS on us), and the pot broken into multiple pieces with my beloved, ancient basil plant completely uprooted.

So, you may wonder, what lessons did we take home from this experience?  1.  If Alex looks like she’s about to get in trouble, she is, no question about it.  2.  Basil plants are surprisingly resilient.  3.  Terracotta pots are not resilient.  4.  No matter what, I cannot get mad at this face…at least not yet.

It was an ugly "plant" anyway.  (Seriously, Christmas Vacation, anyone?!  C'mon!)

Diary Entry # 3

Day Too Many To Count:  Miracles of miracles!  I feel the end is nigh.  For nine whole months Alexandra the Great has continued her diminutive supremacy over us.  While her demands have grown louder her grip on us has loosened.  For 7 straight days the Great One has slept through the entire night.   While she has awoken at various odd times we, her servants, have fought over who will meet her needs and in the end she has fallen back asleep with nary a peep.  Is it too early to rejoice in our new found ability to sleep?  That may be, but for now we will take it and so help us God, we will look back on this week of solid sleep with fondness and as a time of great peace in our land.

Update 12/9/2011:  It was a little too early to rejoice.  We got 10 straight days of uninterrupted sleep and now we're back to waking up in the middle of the night.  Oh, well.  It was fun while it lasted.  

The Moment Alex Did Something Bad

The other morning I was busy getting ready to leave for work and left Alex to her own devices, scooting around the kitchen/living room area in her walker.  Every few seconds or so I would glance over to see what she was up to and for the most part she was harassing the cat with her incessant stares and vocalizations.  Then, things got quiet.  Despite my meager 9 months of parenthood, I'm no dummy.  I know when things get quiet children are up to something and surprisingly, even at 9 months, no noise means no good.  So, I walked over to investigate as she was no longer in my line of vision and as I came around the corner I saw both Alex and the cat (partners in crime already) playing with the begonia plant I had brought in from the cold.  "Alex!" I said and immediately her shoulders shot to her ears in a "Oh, crap" move, she dropped the stem and flowers from her hands and turned to look at me, grinning from ear to ear with her one, little dimple making me forget altogether what the problem was in the first place.  This leads me to one, important insight about myself:  I'm a sucker for cute blondes with dimples.

"What?  This plant?  I wasn't touching this plant I was just looking at it."

Happy Out of the Womb Birthday!

Someone pointed out to us the other day that Alex has now offically been out of the womb longer than she was in.  It was an interesting insight that I had never considered before.  So, happy 8.5 months of out of the womb life, Alexandra!  You wanted to be a part of this world sooner than anticipated and I think it's pretty obvious why...you want to take over the world.