Nineteen Months
Heidi fully joined the party this month. It's like there's a whole 'nother person in the mix -- talking to us, trying to make us laugh, making unreasonable demands, engaging in some back-and-forth with the bigger kids. It's super awesome. And she's adorable. This phase from 18 months to three years is simply the best.
She loves to read. My mom said everyone was freaking out about some 1000-books-before-kindergarten article like it was some sort of impossible task. I'm pretty sure we're shooting 1000 stories before Halloween (assuming repeats count). She reads like Ingrid does -- wants to engage the story, talk about the pictures, memorize it before moving on. We often talk about the pictures and do an abridged plot before she'll sit through reading the text, even with short books. It took us a week to work up to the full text of Mother Mother I Feel Sick. Same deal with Amos McGee. But now she loves them both.
She has two personal stories that she likes to talk about. No one would understand them but me, but since I was there, I understand exactly what's going through her head. It's the precursor to Henry's "you talk about the car was beeping" phase. First, we went to the petting zoo last month and fed bottles and pellets to the baby goats and sheep. Henry did most of the feeding. The babies were very hungry. The daddy sheep was very loud. There were a lot of flies. We can get through the entire story with her prompting, goat, bottle, hungry, Henry, loud, flies, and me filling in the rest. Second, Izzy vomited on the carpet last week. Heidi prompts me with Izzy, spit (with gag face), scared, vacuum, Daddy, Henry, wipes, Ingrid. She very clearly remembers that Izzy got sick, Heidi got scared, I cleaned up with the carpet steamer, Daddy and Henry got wipes, Ingrid did nothing.
On that note, Heidi is terrified of Izzy. Between the barf incident and Izzy being a little too thorough in cleaning up while Heidi is still eating, Heidi now panics every time Izzy walks in the room. Heidi is genuinely concerned -- complete with trademarked exaggerated scared face -- but it's sort of ridiculous to be scared of sweet geriatric Izzy for the three minutes a day that she rouses herself from the sofa.
She is communicating all kinds of ridiculous toddler demands. Food eaten at the table must be eaten on the table. If I try to hold her bowl in one hand and scoop with the other, she scowls at me and says, "TABLE" until I put down the bowl. Band-Aids must be opened (and wasted) in pairs. Water must contain ice. Mommy may not take her hair out of a bun.
She's an awesome buddy for doing activities where I can focus on her one-on-one. But she's terrible if I need to get things done, especially if they involve moving from room to room. She wails endlessly if I walk away from her repeatedly, even if it seems self-evident that I'm not actually going anywhere. Putting away laundry in various rooms is not an option.
I realized that Heidi has enough hair to put it in a ponytail, and now she wants a ponytail every day. She points at the drawer where I keep the rubber bands and squeals, "tay-o! tay-o!"and then gives me huge grins when I put her hair up.
She started noticing colors and identifies pink and green with moderate accuracy.
We're settling into a new fall routine with the big kids at school every day. It was hard for her to leave them at first, but we quickly picked up where we were last spring. She's a delightful companion. I'm going to be a little sad to give her up to Jackie two mornings a week.
She loves to read. My mom said everyone was freaking out about some 1000-books-before-kindergarten article like it was some sort of impossible task. I'm pretty sure we're shooting 1000 stories before Halloween (assuming repeats count). She reads like Ingrid does -- wants to engage the story, talk about the pictures, memorize it before moving on. We often talk about the pictures and do an abridged plot before she'll sit through reading the text, even with short books. It took us a week to work up to the full text of Mother Mother I Feel Sick. Same deal with Amos McGee. But now she loves them both.
She has two personal stories that she likes to talk about. No one would understand them but me, but since I was there, I understand exactly what's going through her head. It's the precursor to Henry's "you talk about the car was beeping" phase. First, we went to the petting zoo last month and fed bottles and pellets to the baby goats and sheep. Henry did most of the feeding. The babies were very hungry. The daddy sheep was very loud. There were a lot of flies. We can get through the entire story with her prompting, goat, bottle, hungry, Henry, loud, flies, and me filling in the rest. Second, Izzy vomited on the carpet last week. Heidi prompts me with Izzy, spit (with gag face), scared, vacuum, Daddy, Henry, wipes, Ingrid. She very clearly remembers that Izzy got sick, Heidi got scared, I cleaned up with the carpet steamer, Daddy and Henry got wipes, Ingrid did nothing.
On that note, Heidi is terrified of Izzy. Between the barf incident and Izzy being a little too thorough in cleaning up while Heidi is still eating, Heidi now panics every time Izzy walks in the room. Heidi is genuinely concerned -- complete with trademarked exaggerated scared face -- but it's sort of ridiculous to be scared of sweet geriatric Izzy for the three minutes a day that she rouses herself from the sofa.
She is communicating all kinds of ridiculous toddler demands. Food eaten at the table must be eaten on the table. If I try to hold her bowl in one hand and scoop with the other, she scowls at me and says, "TABLE" until I put down the bowl. Band-Aids must be opened (and wasted) in pairs. Water must contain ice. Mommy may not take her hair out of a bun.
She's an awesome buddy for doing activities where I can focus on her one-on-one. But she's terrible if I need to get things done, especially if they involve moving from room to room. She wails endlessly if I walk away from her repeatedly, even if it seems self-evident that I'm not actually going anywhere. Putting away laundry in various rooms is not an option.
I realized that Heidi has enough hair to put it in a ponytail, and now she wants a ponytail every day. She points at the drawer where I keep the rubber bands and squeals, "tay-o! tay-o!"and then gives me huge grins when I put her hair up.
She started noticing colors and identifies pink and green with moderate accuracy.
We're settling into a new fall routine with the big kids at school every day. It was hard for her to leave them at first, but we quickly picked up where we were last spring. She's a delightful companion. I'm going to be a little sad to give her up to Jackie two mornings a week.
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