It's the Yellow Rice We Ate Last Night....

The title, in case you are curious is a rewrite of The Yellow Rose of Texas by the Daddy person. I won't finish the verse, but I suspect soon you will guess where I was going with the lyrics. Aunt Brite and I have done everything we can to try and prevent Squeaker from getting sick. We have tried to avoid hanging out with sick children, eschewed the nursery, skipped visits with her grandparents, burnt incense, sacrificed live ... Ok, so you get the idea.

As was bound to happen, we failed. Squeaker picked up the flu that has been going around. It apparently has a two to three day gestation period and has a cut a wide swath through her friends and their parents (for the record, the Daddy person is about halfway through the gestation period now). Squeaker started crying at half past two Friday morning. The Daddy person went in to check on her and found rice on her sheets, rice on Hopa, rice on Blankey, rice just about everywhere. As we discovered over the next three hours, throwing up is hard on a little person. When we throw up, we know what is happening. We know to spit. We know to gargle some water. Squeaker hasn't learned that stuff yet. She doesn't know what "spit" means. I tried to explain. I tried saying it slowly and clearly. Squeaker didn't get it, which didn't make things any easier for her. Aunt Brite came over around 5 am. By that point squeaker was running on empty and slept for a while on her lap. That lasted for a little while before she got sick again. As some point she had been asleep and stable for a while so Aunte Brite put her to bed. Unfortunately stable didn't last and Blankey got a second trip through the washing machine. Hopa's reflexes seem to be better, she's has survived thus far with only one sponge bath. Blankey is actually back in the washing machine now, hopefully for the last time this weekend.

How 'bout some fun news?

As I mentioned a while ago Squeaker has gotten good at making animal sounds. She's picked most of them up from her reading. I realized recently that most children think house cats say meow, a quiet, delicate meow. When Squeaker makes the cat sound it comes across more like lion being introduced to waterboarding. If you have been to our house and met our cats you will understand why. In general she's getting good at using some simple phrases. Her "bye bye da da"s are clear and very sweet. She's also beginning to learn her way around town. In the car she'll say "Brah Mack Howse" when she realizes they are close to Aunte Brite's house.

Aunt Brite and I decided that Hope Bunny (aka Hopa) and her Blankey are too valuable to risk outside of the crib. Recently we started making a ritual of putting Hopa down to sleep in the morning. She is tired after an evening of watching over squeaker. Squeaker has picked up on this and usually says good night with a "shhhh, shhhh", so we'll remember not to wake Hopa. Squeaker had a visit from some of her relatives this week. One of them, let's call him "John", settled in on the couch while Squeaker was playing and everyone else was chatting. Squeaker noticed that "John" had drifted off to sleep so she came over to the others and said "shhhh, shhhh".

We spend a little time wandering around Tyson's Corner Mall last weekend. She enjoyed pointing out 'bay-bees' in every stroller, but the thing she enjoyed the most warmed the Daddy person's heart. The catfish and bass in the pond at LL Bean. I'll end with this video of her playing with one of our cats. Be sure to notice her interest in the camera. Have a good week.

Daddy's Little Girl

Squeaker has been running around much of this weekend drinking out of this travel mug. Don't worry, coffee was not included. I am not worried about her paternity, but it is nice to see these little signs that she is in fact Daddy's little girl. She's discovered long ago that when the cameras come out she can see pictures of the 'bay-bee', but recently she's gotten downright obsessed with seeing picture that was just taken. This second picture follows shortly on the heels of the first. You can see her mouth right in the middle of 'bay".

Sometimes this causes problems because the intended picture doesn't actually get taken. It didn't happen this time, but I would expect more pictures of Squeaker to be almost in focus and show her running for the camera.

Squeaker and I have been hanging out with some of my friends from college this weekend. I don't know if I like the way this sounds, but a couple of military school graduates scheduled a play date for Saturday afternoon. I guess if all the play-ees are prospective cadets, then it is ok. This last picture is of Squeaker's ladybug ball. She looks like she's taking to soccer, but I think she's just chasing after it in this picture. I took Squeaker to another women's basketball game this weekend. After scouring the web for games in the DC area, I came away convinced that with all these "George" colleges someone forgot to tell the people up there that we actually won the Revolution.

Mason was the George we settled on this time. I had never been to GMU before so I followed the signs for the Field House. I had been talking up the 'ba-ball' game most of the weekend and the whole way over in the car. We were a bit late so the Daddy person grabbed Squeaker and headed into the Field House. It turns out that the Field House is an indoor track facility, so their was no 'ba-ball' game in progress. I got directions and headed back to the car. Squeaker threw a conniption when I put her back into the car seat without fulfilling my promise to take her to the 'ba-ball' game. Eventually we found the game, but unfortunately the home team lost. GMU had a small but enthusiastic pep band so Squeaker got to dance. Sorry for this late post. It was another busy weekend for the Daddy person. I will try and get the post up on Saturday next week. I don't want any more complaints....

All Bay-bee, All the Time!

Squeaker sat for this portrait while she was over at her Aunt Brite's house this week. At the bottom of the picture, you see one of her favorite friends, Bay-bee. Squeaker feeds Bay-bee with a spoon and bowl, something that apparently works much better in second person, or at least for her the imaginary food is easy to clean up. Bay-bee also has her own Hopa, that's Squeaker speak for all Bunnies, albeit with one big exception.

Not that the daddy person is getting nervous about the trajectory her play is on, but we decided to go to another basketball game this afternoon. We sat in the mostly empty student section. Squeaker loved the pep band, she danced through most of their sets. She got into the game enough that she clapped when everyone else did, which was fairly often, since the home team went on a 45-20 run while she was at the game. I can usually tell when she enjoys one of our outings, because I will get a very tender hug. I'm two for two on nice sweet hugs at basketball games. If only more of them started before bedtime.

Squeaker has gotten into sitting like a big girl. Most mornings she gets up and sits in the wicker chair in her room. She makes it a bit tougher than it should be climbing up it like the stairs, then turing around to face forward. She's tall enough that she can just sit down on it the normal way. Chairs are not the only place she likes to sit.

Reading books is not nearly as much fun if we are not sitting in Daddy's lap. I have to pay attention now when we are in the play yard, because she will come bounding over and thump down in my lap. The daddy person has had it easy in the play yard for the most part though. It has generally been possible for the me to lay down and rest my eyes during playtime. Not sleep mind you but lay back and listen to her play. Those times have ended now.

I still try and lay down, but Squeaker will have none of it. She stands over me and says "Up!", in a clear and authoritative voice. If I don't get up fairly quickly, which I usually don't, the command is repeated while at the same time she grabs a clump of my hair and makes sure that at least my head gets up off the floor.

That's about all the news that's fit to print. She's had a rough week with teething and a cold, but she'd doing fine otherwise. We're almost up to 17 months now. Sorry for the late post. The daddy person went to a friend's 29.97th birthday last night.

She's not that Smart, but she did get a Haircut this week...

For the record, the title of this post actually refers to two different story-lines, but the title sounds kind of like a good story by itself, so I think I will leave it.

Aunt Brite started the dishwasher last night. Squeaker went right over and started trying to press the buttons. We normally lock the buttons, which requires holding the "NO HEAT" button down for three seconds. Seeing Ainsley coming over, Aunt Brite carefully held the "NO HEAT" button down to lock the controls. As any older brother would, I harassed her, Aunt Brite not Squeaker, for using the super-secret lock code in front of the baby.

Aunt Brite replied to my harassment by pointing out that Squeaker was holding down the wrong button. When that one didn't achieve the desired result, she moved to the next one over. At that point the Daddy person started laughing at Aunt Brite. Squeaker moved on to the next button. Aunt Brite then spent the rest of the evening in front of the dishwasher or sprinting across the kitchen to get there ahead of Squeaker.

Here are some pictures of Squeaker getting her haircut and one of her from yesterday so you can get a good look at her trimmed locks.

The video is a couple of weeks old, as you can see by Squeaker's haircut, or lack thereof. The chair that isn't really a chair, it is a hollow ottoman. No not a hedonistic Turk, but a piece of furniture that is designed to hold, and hide toys. Despite the discomfort, she likes to sit in it, as you can see.

Sorry for the late post this week. Squeaker and I went out to a birthday party last night. We came home and both went to sleep. For the record I did stay up a little later than she did, but only because I had to put her to bed first.