I have too many things I want to write about and never enough time to sit and write them.
For example, I want to write about how active the new baby is.. how she rarely sits still and stops kicking me. How she makes it impossible to sleep anymore, and how I really just can’t wait to meet her. How she pushes back when Aria sits or climbs on my belly, or how she prefers to stomp on my bladder rather than cram her feet up under my ribs like her sister used to do.
I also want to write about how silly Aria is, like how she ran into the fridge, completely randomly while walking, the other night and we discovered afterwards that she was walking around the whole kitchen/kitchenette area with her eyes closed. And the next night she was tasting the food on her plate with her eyes closed. I guess she’s trying out her other senses…
And Aria doesn’t really need me anymore. She practically changes her own diaper. Yes we’re working on potty training, but so far she is outstanding at the entire procedure, with pulling down her pants, sitting on the potty, wiping, washing her hands, etc., all except the actually going potty in the potty. She even tells me she wants to go to the potty… because she already went..
But when it comes time to change her diaper, she will go grab a diaper and the wipes by herself, pull her clothes and diaper off, will wipe herself, and then attempt to put a diaper on, all by herself. Eventually she gets frustrated and will either run around naked for awhile until I can catch her, or will bring the diaper to me and let me help her. It’s so cute when I lay the diaper on the floor and tell her to lie down, and she kindof throws herself on the floor, often completely cattywompus across the diaper and I have to straighten her out to get it on her.
As for dressing herself, I’m really not allowed to help much anymore. It’s so frustrating when we’re in a hurry and she has to do it all herself and will have a conniption fit if I even offer to help. This morning it took ten minutes for her to first decide she even wanted to put her socks on before she started working on getting them on her feet.
But on the flip side, when I tell her we’re going somewhere and I tell her where her shoes and socks are, I can often go about getting ready while she scurries away and reappears wearing her socks and shoes, although they’re frequently on the wrong foot and the socks are a little twisted.. but still.. it’s kindof amazing.
I’ve learned I seriously need to think about what I say to her before I say it, because she understand a whole lot more than she lets on, and I’ve gotten myself in trouble on a few occasions because I’m so used to just babbling at her. (I mean really.. they TELL you to talk constantly to your child, about whatever, to help develop their language). I’ve also found that she, both being a little girl and being mine, tends to babble quite a bit herself. The girl can talk. Like.. incessantly. We usually don’t have a clue what she’s actually saying, but she’s so animated and emphatic that you just can’t help but be entranced by her stories. Especially when they include flailing arms and sound effects.
She knows more words than I am able to keep track of anymore, although several of them don’t sound an inkling like they’re supposed to, so I have to go through my mental catalog of what in the world she could possible be talking about. The worst is when she’s looking at me, begging for something, and I haven’t a clue what that thing is. It’s happened with weenan (raisins), dopa (yogurt), and taubles (crackers), to name a few. And I have to explain to people, when they give her something and she tells them hatchee, that she is politely thanking them.
Her aunt Crystal has gotten pretty comfortable with her language, however, and knows that she’s not allowed to eat anything without a little bird screeching “peeeese!!” in her face. So she shares her dopa and granola with her.
I honestly can’t survive some of the looks she gives me. Those big doe eyes, that beautiful smile.. I just can’t.. I just.. can’t. She’s soooo freaking cute and adorable. I honest to goodness haven’t yet taken her somewhere without getting gobs of compliments; people will stop me and tell me how adorable, or pretty, or cute, or what a doll baby she is. I have no idea what a doll baby is. But I’ve heard that term so many times now that I’m convinced whatever it is that defines a doll baby, Aria must be that. I personally think she’s the cutest baby in the whole world, but I also realize that I am heavily biased. And I often question whether every baby gets this amount of attention. Not that it really matters, but I guess I’m not the only one who thinks she’s adorable.