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I took a hiatus from my blog to do something very important and glamorous...like get really, really sick. I don't just mean blow your nose kind of sick, no. I mean, can't get out of bed, throat so sore you can't swallow, face feels like its going to explode with pressure while you, cough until you can't speak kind of sick, just in time for Mother's Day.
Aside from my horrible sickness I've been enjoying my little family as usual. Lucy is talking up a STORM lately. She is such a smart girl. Sometimes too smart. Recently when she would do something she shouldn't I would say "Lucy, look at me" in an attempt to be stern and explain to her why we don't throw a cup or whack the cat with her book. She would usually laugh at me so I assumed she didn't understand what I was saying. Wrong! We were in her room one day and she was playing around while I put away her clothes and I heard her talking to her stuffed bear. She was sitting the bear on her little table, looking it straight in the face and saying "Yook a Me...YOOK A ME" I almost died laughing. She's smart as a whip, and she's got the attitude to boot. I wonder where she got that...
Lucy at 16 months
She runs instead of walks and doesn't cry usually if she falls. Carries an old, (naked) baby doll and my old stuffed bear (from when I was a baby) around with her everywhere (she rocks them constantly "wockababy, wockababy"). She loves pasta, preferably tiny Trader Joe's cheese ravioli, especially with my homemade tomatoe sauce and meatballs She can feed herself, albiet messily. She likes her gold shoes better then her black ones ("pwit-ahy"). She loves playing in the dirt and getting really "dirtay". She could spend an hour ouside digging in her makeshift sandpit underneath our hammock. She is incredibly smart and already knows the words to her books that I read to her at night before I say them. Her favorate book at the moment is Harry the Dirty Dog. She can count to four. Her favorate number is 9, (she'll yell out "NINE" after eight when you count to ten). She likes to go "wimmin" in the bath. She's started calling me "Mommy" instead of "Mama" and "Daddy" instead of "Dad Dad". She loves to smell anything that grows, something her Daddy taught her from when they walk around our herb garden and pick the herbs and smell them, which means she picks the leaves and flowers off of all my plants and walks around smelling them. She loves cantelope, watermelon, kiwi and apples. She goes to sleep like a dream but 95% of the time wakes up to snuggle in the middle of the night, (feel free to judge me, I don't mind it one bit). She's tall and skinny with a big head, 21% for weight and 85% for height and head (its that big brain in there). She gives a LOOK like you wouldn't believe, somewhere between and eye-roll and a sigh that makes me think that I've got it coming to me when she's a teenager. She got a haircut (well a bang-cut) last week and looks so much like a big girl it makes me want to cry. She's the most amazing thing ever. Ever. I love it. Every minute.
'In spite of the six thousand manuals on child raising in the bookstores, child raising is still a dark continent and no one really knows anything. You just need a lot of love and luck - and, of course, courage. "
-Bill Cosby, Fatherhood, 1986
