Diva in Training

In clearing out the pictures on my phone - I found quite of few of these.  Mostly taken indoors.

I think she's trying to tell me something.

 

Lola set this up this scene. She put each of the people ("Mommy" "Daddy" and "Baby") in their respective chairs. Originally the baby was seated next to the Mommy. She took a step back, critiqued her handiwork, and then moved the baby to its current location. "Next to Daddy." She said it twice. To be sure I understood.

Witchy Woman

A few weeks ago, Lola insisted on picking out her own pants, socks, and shoes ... Which I'm usually fine with. Allow her to develop her own identity and foster independence and all that other good stuff. And I was equally fine with it that day, until I realized she looked like the spawn of the Wicked Witch of the West.

Haircut - Before, During, and After

BEFORE: In restrospect, she REALLY needed a haircut.

DURING: Saying goodbye to her baby-locks.  She was a little apprehensive, but she did great!

AFTER: Very pleased with her new bob. 

Facts

Fact 1: I am against bringing my daughter into bed with us if she cries in the middle of the night. I believe it creates bad habits and reinforces night waking.

Fact 2: I make poor decisions when I'm woken in the middle of the night.

Outcome: (taken by husband when he woke up for work)


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Open letter to Time4Toyz

Dear Time4Toyz,
Big fat fail on including the toy box cutters in your tool kit. Otherwise, great toy!



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Samson and Delilah

We did it.  The scraggly hair is gone and our baby girl has a cute little bob cut.  Upon the strong recommendation of several family members, we took Lola to get her very first haircut.  She was a bit apprehensive about the pre-cut wash, but by the time she got in the chair she was an angel.  She was intrigued by the whole thing and only got nervous when she couldn't find her own hands beneath the big smock (totally understandable).  I have much better shots on the real camera - but these two were from Roz's phone (The Barden's are in town, so Rivi was able to join us for the big event).  The second photo was taken when we got home.  She did not, in fact, take the power drill to the salon, although she has been carrying it around the house since receiving it as part of her Hanukkah present from the aunts on Wednesday night.  

Friday before Christmas in Greenville

Have been sitting on Woodruff Rd. for 20 minutes and can just now see the Target sign on the horizon. Perhaps my worst idea in many days.


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Kiss it

Lola's new phrase is "kiss it" - said after any sort of bodily injury takes place. A skinned knee, a bumped head, etc. Today she slipped and fell in the kitchen (sidebar: the cutest is that when she falls or gets scared, she sort of whimpers to herself "It's ok. It's ok."). So through the self-reassuring whimpers I ask her what hurts.
Lola: "kiss it"
Me: "where should I kiss it?"
Lola: "tush"


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In Training

What's that you say, doctor?  More blue surgical towels?  Got 'em!

Blue. Everywhere.

Whoever said that M&M's "melt in your mouth, not in your hands" had clearly never met a toddler with hoarding tendencies.


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Living Room

7:15 pm



8:15 pm



I'm still not sure why I insist on reclaiming my living room every night. It will return to its pre-8:00 state by 9 am tomorrow morning, but for a few brief hours (most of which I spend sleeping) my living room is mine again.

Just browsing

Sail magazine and LL Bean catalog respectively.



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More math problems

Lola got the most adorable book in the mail this week from our dear friends, the Moskowitz's. (thank you!!) As we turned the pages, we counted sea shells, pails, shovels, fish, and the legs on the octopus (or as Lola calls him, "funny opopus"). Or as I call him, "strange genetic mutation octopus". See why.


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Fuzzy Math. In three parts.

Part I:
Set up:
I called ahead to the auto mechanic to ask if there was a wait to get an oil change.  I had a break for lunch but didn't have a tremendous amount of time before my next appointment.  The woman on the phone assured me that it wouldn't be a problem.  She said "Once you are in the shop it only takes about 20 minutes."

Part II:
Upon arrival:
Me: Hi there. I called about 5 minutes ago about the oil change.
Her: oh yes.  It will just be a little bit.  There's just one car ahead of you and then one more. 
Me: So wait, that's two cars ahead of me?
Her: Well just the one that is next and then the one that is after that.
Me (in my head): Right.  But that's TWO cars.  It doesn't matter how many times you say the word "one" - the number of cars is still two. 
Me: (out loud): Great, I'll wait over there.  Is that a rerun of Rosanne playing on the television?  Awesome. 

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Inadequacies

If I'm being honest with myself, I struggle to get dinner on the table almost every single night.  It's not that I DON'T get dinner on the table.  I do.  It's just not particularly good.  I have a few stand-bys that are my go-to meals . . . but how often can one possibly prepare turkey burgers or chicken piccata?  Ideally, I like to be able to throw less than 5 ingredients together, add heat, and call it done.  The less measuring utensils I have to use the better. 

All this to say that my kitchen inadequacies were grossly highlighted tonight when Husband arrived home, after a full day at his job (which is way more demanding than tutoring high school math - by the way), and proceeded to prepare (from scratch!) panko crusted chicken, pesto pasta, and a mushroom and onion cream sauce.  And not the short-cut cooking that I do (where you add Italian dressing to the chicken and call it marinaded).  He actually put multiple ingredients together in a saute pan and MADE A SAUCE.  Oh well . . . at least I still have nicer handwriting. 

Time Out

As Lola nears her second birthday - we've had a few (seriously though, just a few) incidents that require a "time out."  Mostly because we tell her multiple times not do something (i.e. bang her cup on the table, jump on the chair, yell at her friend) and she continues to do it.  There is always a warning, and then I remove her from the situation, place her in the corner, and she sits for a minute. 
It seemed to worked.  Maybe too well. 

Now she puts herself in time out.  If she does something that she knows is even mildly wrong, she will look at you sweetly and say "time out."  It's almost like she appreciates a minute to herself every once in a while.  Come to think of it, if I could reliably count on the fact that banging my cup against the table would result in a minute of silence by myself - I'd be doing it at every meal. 

Manah manah

Just saw the Muppet movie with my mom and Lola. Particularly poignant since my mom and I used to watch the Muppets together when I was little and it was Lola's first movie experience. Lola sat in my lap through the entire thing barely moving a muscle and my mom (who NEVER cries post-tumor) wept through Rainbow Connection. I'm going to go out on a limb and say it was the best movie-watching experience of my life.

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CHEESE! (and ham)

A photographer came to school the other day to take class pictures and snapped a few candids of the kids as well. Apparently Lola was quite the "camera ham" (as described to me by her teachers). This pictures puts the biggest smile on my face. As Grandma Rivi would say, "Eight-by-Ten, please."

Best Friends

3 days ago, Lola looked right into my eyes while I was changing her diaper, pointed her little finger at me, and said "best friend". My heart turned to mush. I totally melted. It ranked in the top 5 moments of my entire life.

The following day we had a playdate with a little girl named Shafer. Lola spent much of our 2 hours together insisting that Shafer stay outside of Lola's 3-foot required radius of personal space and yelling loudly each time sweet little Shafer came near her.

And then yesterday at dinner, totally unprompted, Lola said, "Shafer. Best friend." Easy come, easy go, I suppose.


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More counting.

So she is still starting at "7" - but today she made it up to "12". So bizarre.


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Bless her Heart

Lola came home from school last week pronouncing the word "again" with three syllables.  And while we typically try not to correct her speech, Ben insists that we get this particular issue under control before it gets any worse. 

Counting

The official party line is that Lola can count to 9.  She does, however, start at "7" . . .

Daycare Hazard

I'm sure there are a ton of articles out there about all the dangers and risks associated with sending your child to daycare.  But I have found only one.  Lola comes home asking me to sing her songs that I don't know.  Or perhaps I do know them - but not by the same name that she is requesting them. 

On that note, if anyone knows a song that might be called "ding dong grandma song" by a toddler - please respond asap.  I don't think my made-up version (sung to the tune of Skip-to-my-Lou) is going to hold her over for much longer. 

Mind your Manners

Lola is great at saying "Please".  When she wants something (most likely, a cookie) and you say to her "what do you say?" she gives you a bit toothy grin and says "pleeeeeeeese?"

After handing her said cookie, if you ask "now what do you say when someone gives you something?" she responds (equally pleased with herself): "You're welcome."

Watch your mouth

The coolest thing now is that Lola is stringing related words together unprompted.  For example, she'll say "Birds. Sky. Fly. Chirp. Nest." or "Lie down. Cuddle. Show. Dora." 

And then tonight, when I told her that Daddy went upstairs to take a shower, she said "Daddy. Soap. Wash. Naked."  And then I laughed so hard that a little Diet Coke came out my nose.

The point in our lives when we can't say ANYTHING without fear of repetition has officially begun. 

Trick or Treat

So far, Halloween is definitely Lola's favorite holiday.  Her new favorite words include trickertreat, Happy Halloween, bucket, candy, ladybug, dress-up, and open (both doors and candy).

Cuddle Bug

She finally likes to cuddle!!

October 29

There have been years in the past when Halloween has fallen on a Sunday, and due to some sort of unwritten Blue Law, communities in our area have endorsed Trick-or-Treating on Saturday instead.  I get that. 

But, dear neighbors, this is not one of those years.  Halloween is Monday.  Which makes tonight just a regular old night.  And just like I didn't ring your doorbell and demand food last Thursday when I was hungry and Ben was on call and there was nothing to eat in my house but soup - you should really consider paying me the same respect. 

Just like the rest of us

Divas need breakfast too.


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Not sure this was what Lance had in mind.

As we sat in Atlanta traffic headed to a most beautiful wedding ceremony this past weekend, Amanda pointed out that the woman crossing the street was wearing a yellow "Live Strong" bracelet.  And smoking a cigarette.  Sigh.

Trouble

We've got trouble.  And that starts with T and that rhymes with C and that stands for CANDY.  (Sorry for shameless musical reference).  Today I bought 3 bags of Halloween candy . . . between Lola and Ben - we will be be lucky if any remains to actually distribute next Monday night. 

Happy Halloween

We went to "Boo at the Zoo" on Friday night - a local Halloween event for kids under 5 and Lola's first official experience with Trick-or-Treating.  Saturday morning, her first words upon waking up were, "Trickertreet.  More candy?"  We've created a monster.

An Open Letter to left-lane cruisers

Dear fellow drivers of the I-85 corridor between the Georgia state line and Anderson, SC,
Allow me to explain how this stretch of highway should work (and furthermore, how ALL similar stretches of highway should work).  The left lane is generally considered a "passing" lane.  If you use it effectively - you will never find yourself in a position where there are no cars in front of you and yet a line of cars (many flashing their brights or following precariously close) behind you.  If you do find yourself in that situation, it's probably time to head on over to the right lane and allow those of us with a destination and a desire to get there to pass on through. 

Very sincerely.

The Hungry Little Caterpillar

We took Lola to lunch at Strossner's today (a little bakery/cafe in town).  I splurged and got her own kid's meal, which I instantly regretted as she refused to touch any of it.  We finished up our own meals and I got a to-go box and packed up Lola's lunch to take home.  Right as we were ready to go, Lola decided she was ready to try a bite of her lunch.  Apparently everything looks better jammed into a clear plastic to-go container. 
She then proceeded to eat:
an entire grilled cheese sandwich
a cup of fruit
a cheese cracker
a slice of toasted garlic bread
a pickle
a full-sized cookie
and approximately 16 ounces of apple juice

Post Script

So it turns out . . . all of the aforementioned incidents in my previous post were clear cut signs that our little baby was about 12 hours aways from coming down with a nasty virus.  Which she did.  And we spend the rest of the week together, alone, in the house. (Ben was out of town all week).  Suffice it to say these were not our finest moments.  However, all's well that that ends well - and the week certainly ended on an upswing.  Ben got home on Saturday morning and his parents arrived in town Saturday night.  I was rescued from my isolation, and extra hands certainly made light work in terms of caring for Lola as she finished out the last few days of virus-o-rama-2011.  Inlaws are in town for the rest of the week and I'm headed to Atlanta this weekend for a wedding.  Even got to go out to dinner Tuesday night for "Moms' Night Out" with the ortho girls.  Now if I can just convince my inlaws to stay a little longer . . . . maybe just until the start of November.  2012. 

Dinner of Champions

Good ol' peanut butter and jelly (or in this case - peanut butter and delicious homemade peach preserves .... Thank you, Libby!!). This was the ONLY perk of Ben being out of town last week.


I'm pretty sure if I didn't have a husband and daughter to feed I would eat this every night.

Baby of Mine

Today . . .
Lola played in the playhouse at the mall crying and yelling "I SHARE!" to anyone who tried to join her (which is her strange translation of "Get out.  I'm not willing to share this space.") 

She had to be put in Time Out in the Gap Kids for screaming at a little boy when he tried to come near her (we're going through a bit of a territorial phase). 

She ate an ENTIRE bowl of macaroni at Panera, except for a small handful of cheese sauce which she preferred to smear through her hair.

She wailed for 15 minutes straight, about nothing in particular.  She didn't want to be held. Or touched. Or eat. Or watch a show. Or anything.  Apparently she just needed a good cry.

She required 6 (very messy) diaper changes between the hours of 3:00 and 6:00 pm - admittedly perhaps a result of the very adult-sized portion of macaroni and cheese.

She pooped in the tub.  Not a solid poop that can be easily contained.  But the other kind that involves a mop, a ton of bleach, and a new set of bath toys. 

That being said . . . tonight she fell asleep in my arms while we listened to Baby of Mine from Dumbo and all was right in the world again. 

Reserved Parking

This is just silly. In 9 months of pregnancy I never remember being incapacitated to the point that I was unable to walk a few extra yards in order to access a non-reserved parking space.

Now that I have an (almost) 19 month old, I could really use a reserved space up front, and I'm wondering where the sign is that reads: "Reserved Parking. Moms with small children who insist on walking all by themselves, despite the fact that you could walk to the moon and back in the time it takes their sweet little legs to propel them just 10 feet and who are still learning the meaning of "holding hands" in a busy parking lot and don't want to be carried except for when you are halfway to your car and loaded down with bags and digging for your keys and THEN they decide to cry hysterically until you pick them up, all while avoiding being hit by a car. Only."


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Abject Terror

In case you are wondering what it looks like:

Here's the blown up version.  But first - I should explain why I am laughing at my sweet daughter's terrified response.  For almost the entire car ride to the pasture, Lola talked about Cows.  Cows moo.  Cows milk. Nice cows. Happy cows.  Ride cows.  Yes . . . ride cows! But once we actually came within earshot of the cows - she wanted nothing (NOTHING) to do with them.  I am also smiling in enjoyment since it is a rare occasion indeed that our child gives hugs.  So we take them however we can get them.  [Note to child services: I removed her from the situation immediately after this photo was taken.]

Trouble

Lola's latest trick - pointing to the stomach of any woman, of any size, and saying "baby". I think it comes from some confusion stemming from belly buttons (which she calls a baby but). Either way, it's mortifying.



Showing off her own "baby but".

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I just realized . . .

Remember that weird girl in middle school gym class that would change out into her gym clothes in the bathroom stall instead of the locker room like all the other normal and perhaps more well-adjusted girls?  Yeah.  That's still me. 

Towelettes

Why are towels at the gym so small?  I consider there to be three essentially private areas that I would like to keep covered with a towel when I walk to the shower.  If I can only cover one at time - that makes things difficult for me.  Perhaps that is what they use for motivation around this gym . . . it's probably hanging somewhere on the locker room wall: "Hey, if you lost a few pounds that towel might at least cover two of your three so-called private areas. Best of luck."

More Brushing Problems

I probably should have guessed that this problem would manifest itself in a few additional ways down the line.  We baked apple pie this past weekend.  Lola helped by dumping the ingredients into the bowl, mix-mix-mixing, and using the pastry brush to brush the egg wash . . . . into her hair.  On a side note, the pie turned out really good and I highly recommend the Southern Living recipe. 

Desensitization

Desensitization: that is what it's called when you expose someone to their fears in order to desensitize them and ultimately reduce/eliminate the fear.  It's your basic cognitive psychology.  And it's exactly what I must have been subconsciously attempting to do to Lola when I purchased 2nd row tickets to Elmo Live.  Regardless, it seemed to work. Although she almost climbed right back inside of me when Telly Monster came to our row, by the end of the show she was loving it - singing and (sort of) dancing/swaying along.  She talked about the "Elmo Show" all the way home and seems to have no lasting psychological damage (at least as far as we can tell.) 

A double scoop, please

During a vocabulary lesson with one of my students recently, we came across the word "Cosmopolitan."  I asked if he had any idea what the word meant and received an emphatic "no".  I asked him to think about ANY context in which he may have heard that word in the past (expecting perhaps a reference to the magazine, the drink, or a cosmopolitan area.)  Instead I got - ice cream. 
No darling, that NEApolitan.  Nice try. 

Verbatim

The following is the conversation that Lola had with herself in the car on the way home from school yesterday.
House. House. Puppy house. Daddy house. Home. Daddy home.  Daddy fly. Plane. Plane fly. Fly. Baby Sam Fly. Baby Sam. Sam. Jacob. Jacob. Baby Sam. Baby Daddy. Craig. Baby Sam. Babies. Puppies. Puppy house. Puppy (panting). Tony. Tony Papa. Tony hugs. Tony kisses. Kisses. Daddy kisses. Babies. Baby seat. Baby rock. Up up down. Up up down. Lovey. Lovey up up down. Lovey hug. Hugs. Mommy hugs. Mommy chicken. Chicken. Bok bok bok. Mommy chicken. Mommy duck. Happy duck. Quack quack. Sad. Sad duck. Frog. Hop hop hop. Jump. Jump lovey jump. Jump jump jump. Puppy jump (panting). 

It went on like this for a good 10 minutes.  The "happy duck" and "sad duck" are from a puppet show we saw.  Tony is the Barden's dog who was visiting with them this past week.  I don't how she knows I'm chicken - but she's apparently an excellent judge of character.

The Grass is Aways Greener

We had playgroup and lunch with our ortho, etc. friends today.  At lunch, I had everything I could possible need for Lola.  Lola's juice, Lola's puffs, Lola's hummus, Lola's pita. 
And what did she want?
Sawyer's juice, Sawyer's crackers, Sawyer's banana, Sawyer's veggies. 

Thank goodness Sawyer is a good sharer!  Thanks for keeping us calm and satisfied at lunch, Sweet Sawyer - and Happy First Birthday!

Yes, Drill Sargent

Today at Barnes and Noble, Lola mined through all the shelves of stuffed animals and picked out ONLY the puppies.  She then began placing them in what seemed at first to be a random assortment.

It soon became clear that the puppies were being lined up in a very straight line.  Nose to tail.  One behind the other. 

We watched on, trying to control our laughter, as each one received a big hug, and then was lovingly placed in its proper spot in the line up. 

With two Type-A parents, the poor thing never stood a chance. 

This weekend

Lola's first words to Ben when we got home from our long weekend in Atlanta were "Gigi.  Fun."  I guess that pretty much sums up her experience.  Mom, you can pick yourself up off the floor now.  Love you.

Day Drinking

Currently at Starbucks treating myself to a skinny vanilla latte after dropping Lola off for her first day at a new school. Could I get a little shot of amaretto in that, please?


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Now this is living.

Ahhhh . . . The good life.



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Maternal instinct

Lola carries her babydoll around the house repeating the words, "change, cry, sleep, hug." Which, from what I remember of those first few weeks (through the hazy fog of sleeplessness and hormone-induced insanity) is pretty much almost everything she needs to know to care for an infant.


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Mixed Emotions

As impressed as we are by Lola's ability to mimic animal sounds, we are equally as disturbed when she makes the sound of a chicken [bok, bok, bok] while we are presently feeding her chicken for dinner. 

Jalape-NO!

Ben FINALLY had a day off today (well . . . "off" after he spent several hours at the hospital this morning rounding on patients . . ) so we decided in light of the oppressive heat and humidity to have a little indoor fun. $1 kids meals at Salsaritas - home of all of Lola's favorite foods (beans, rice, and cheese) followed by a little time at the book store - sounded like a great plan.

To celebrate their $1 kids meal promotion, there was a man dressed as a giant jalapeno. (Or a lime. This detail is still up for debate.) When we arrived, Ben and I noticed him/it waving to cars across the lot and we figured as long as he stayed there and Lola didn't notice . . we'd be safe. And we were. Until he came into the restaurant for what was, I'm sure, a much needed break from the weather. As soon as she laid eyes on him, all hell broke loose. It was the Chick-Fil-A cow all over again. We had to take her out of the restaurant (crying, pleading, holding on to Ben for dear life) until his break was over and she spent the rest of the meal looking over her shoulder. We were able to ease the post-traumatic stress with a bit of queso (which she happily shoveled directly into her mouth with her bare hands) . . . but it's safe to say you can cancel those tickets to Disney World you were planning to give us.

One hand in the queso. Both eyes on the lookout for dangerous over-sized peppers.

Thanks for your help. Buh-Bye.

My recent conversation with a sales rep at a local gym:

Me: I have a 17 month-old daughter, can you tell me a little about your childcare option. 

Her: yeah, we have childcare here.  it's real easy at that age because they're just babies.  all they do is sleep. 

Me:  Ok. Sounds great.  Thanks for your help.  Buh-bye. 

Special Thanks

To my brother-in-law for introducing me to the iPhone game "Drop Seven".  The name is appropriate because since learning how to play 3 days ago, I have lost exactly seven hours of otherwise productive time to this game.  Many thanks.

Habif Boys - 4 months

Can you believe Craig has TWO BABIES?  Me neither. 

For the record, the real Baby Sam is on the right.  Baby Jacob is on the left.  Munchkins!

Northern Exposure

We had a wonderful visit to Ridgefield, CT to see Rivi and Papa Doug this past weekend.  Despite a 10 hour adventure of traveling which ended with a 2:00 am arrival at LaGuardia, we had so much fun spending time with the Bardens, the Ipris, and our brand new nephew, Oliver (or as Lola calls him, "Baby Sam" . . . you can't win them all.)  Lola had a weekend filled with babies and puppies - her two favorite things in the world, as well as a new baby doll (you guessed it . . . "Baby Sam") complete with stroller and pacifier and a brand new purse (pictured below).  She loved riding on the plane and has taken to flying on her belly with her arms out in front and saying "fly."  Another favorite travel moment: a man rushed by us to catch a flight in the Greenville airport and Lola called after him, "run, run, run."  She is becoming quite the ham.    

Go ahead . . . ask her what she is doing. She will tell you "shopping".



Teeny Tiny Dessert

I found these glorious things at Trader Joe's today.  Delicious.  And perfect for a small sweet treat after dinner that is super low in calories.  I was so excited I could barely wait to finish dinner before I opened the box.

Unfortunately the low-cal effect was lost after I ate three of them.  But c'mon . . . . seriously?  (Fork added for size perspective). 

Sweet Child of MINE?

I would never be labeled the "stylish" one in a group or be looked to for the latest trends.  I've been accessorizing with the same scarf and necklace for 3 years and have had friends literally throw out my clothes and shoes that were considered no longer socially acceptable, but which I would have gone on wearing for another decade without proper intervention.  Lola, on the other hand, has turned into quite the fashionista.  Most of the accessories she has acquired have come from various outside sources: a tutu from Cousin Amy, necklaces from Daddy, hairbows from Rivi, sunglasses from Mark and Debbie, etc.  And she ASKS for them.  She knows where things are kept and she goes digging - then begs for help to put everything on.  Here she is this morning catching up on some reading:

And this is what I came home to yesterday after she spent the afternoon with her babysitter, Kathleen (or as she calls her, "Leen":

We have no more photos of her looking at the camera - she is simply too busy.  This was literally the best I could do.  I suppose as my friend Julia pointed out - you have to give some credence to nature over nurture. . . this is clearly in her genetic make up, and it no doubt came from a Barden chromosome. 

I deserved this

Fresh banana with rocky road ice cream and dark chocolate syrup. Don't mind if I do.


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PajamaJeans

I'm giving some serious thought to purchasing these:
https://www.pajamajeans.com/

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Chicken Patty Melt Down

About a week ago, Lola and I met our friends The Adams for lunch at the mall food court.  In honor of a special "buy one adult meal get a kids meal free" promotion, they had the Chick-fil-A cow in attendance.  (Person in a big cow costume - Disney World style).  As soon as Lola laid eyes on the cow - she freaked out.  I'd never seen her like that.  She was clinging to my shirt, burrowing into my shoulder, crying "bye bye, bye bye" in the saddest little voice.  We tried moving tables (not an easy feat with 3 kids) to no avail.  Ultimately, Lola and I had to leave lunch.

Flash forward to today - playgroup at the mall since the weather is so gross.  We head upstairs for lunch at the food court.  No cow.  It didn't matter - Lola seems to have some sort of post-cow-traumatic-stress-syndrome because as soon as she recognized where were were (which, frankly, I was amazed that she could do!) she burrowed her head and started to cry.  Fortunately, this time were were able to sit far enough away as to remove any view of Chick-fil-A from her sight line.  I hope this is not the end of our dining days there, I do love me some Chargrilled Chicken Sandwich! 

Money Saving Tip

One money-saving tip I am considering: Forget buying those expensive pita chips and crackers and simply serve hummus to Lola on small pieces of cardboard.  Result will likely be the same - suck the hummus off and discard the cracker/cardboard.  Here you can see her sucking hummus off of a bagel chip.  Not sure which is more gross - the fact that she eats hummus plain or the fact that I go back and eat the remnants of saliva-covered bagel chips.

Starbucks

It has always struck me as odd that an establishment that primarily sells a stimulant with known diuretic/laxative effects has only one restroom.


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Negotiating Naps

I was thinking that Lola may be ready to go down to one nap per day. But as she caps off a 2 hr marathon morning nap that began at 10 a.m., it is clear that I was mistaken.


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Our kind of zoo

Lola and I have discovered a new outing.  Recently, we've been heading over to our local PetSmart for some good ol' fashion animal watching.  The way we see it, PetSmart has 3 distinct advantage over the local zoo.
1.  Air conditioning (and this is perhaps the greatest edge now that it is 95 degrees on a good day)
2.  No cost of admission (although our zoo membership makes it essentially free, I do have to spend a dollar on the most over-priced 12 oz. can of SierraMist in Greenville to replenish the pint of fluids that I lost from carrying a 25 lb. dead-weight through the zoo)
3.  Puppies. 

Our "zoo" also has birdies, fishies, and "kitty-kitties" which basically round out the list of four animals that Lola really cares to see.  Show her a rare African elephant and she could care less - but a mutt in doggy day care really does it for her.  We also get to see puppies getting haircuts, which she finds to be a double hoot.  

PetSmart has my genuine thanks for allowing us to use it as free entertainment as opposed to the retail establishment that it is clearly set up to be.

Manipulation

Last night, when putting Lola to bed, she started saying "eat, eat".  She usually only asks to eat when she is legitimately hungry - and she's been teething like mad and hasn't really been eating a ton at meals - so we figured she might truly be hungry.  Down we go, in pajamas, back to the kitchen.  We gave her a rice cake and sat in the living room to visit with Tressa (who was over for dinner).  Without taking a single bite of rice cake, Lola placed it on the ottoman in front of her and snuggled down in her daddy's lap - as happy as can be.  We realized right away, we'd been played.  I can't believe it is starting already!

Bicycle

Taking after her Poppy!

Habif Family Picture

Craig and Jacob, Julie and Sam, Ben and Lola, me, Mom, and Dad.