Gingerbread Extravaganza

Last weekend was the Gingerbread Extravaganza at the Bay Area Discovery Museum (otherwise known as "Sugar High Extraordinaire"). I wasn't sure Remi was old enough for gingerbread house making, but she had a great time.

First, she opened the bag of candy and started eating it.
Once I convinced her to save the candy for the house, she discovered the frosting and started eating that. Fortunately she's only 2, and her attention span just isn't that long: before she could eat the house she lost interest and went outside to run off the sugar.

Our Little Groupie

Remi attended her very first concert, and boy, is she hooked.

I have to admit I had my doubts. Could it really be worth it to pay full price concert ticket rates to take a2 year old to a show? You'd think they'd give a price break based on the diminutive size of their audience, but noooooo. In the end, like the myriad of other parents we saw there, we decided that yes, our little bunny was worth it.

So off we carted Roo one cold Sunday to a surprise outing: Yo Gabba Gabba! Live! There's a Party in My City!

And it blew her little mind.

Her first clue was the Yo Gabba Gabba poster. When she caught sight of that, she pointed and started chanting, Yo Gabba Gabba! Yo Gabba Gabba!

As exciting as the poster appeared, she still had no idea what was in store for her. Her next exciting stop: the official Yo Gabba Gabba merchandise and a Brobee backpack. Then it was on to the concert hall.

From the time the show started she had her hands over her ears and her eyes glued to the stage. For a while, I wondered whether she was totally freaked out or just taking it all in. But about 15 minutes in she cried out "Yo Gabba Gabba!" like the little groupie that she is, and I knew she was having the time of her life.

Remi's new job

Remi really likes to clean the toilet.

I discovered this when I brought home a toilet brush. I freed the new item from it's packaging, then left it in the living room, planning to bring it to it's final destination at a later time. But Remi, well, she had no such patience. She saw that thing sitting there, picked it up, and took off for the bathroom, lickety split. Next thing I knew, she was swish, swish, swishing in the toilet water with that brush, happy as a little clam.

Now, cleaning the toilet at home is a messy business, but relatively harmless. Trouble starts when we're out and about. Just the other day, I was out at a Mexican restaurant. When I got up to use the bathroom, Remi followed along. Nothing out of the ordinary there. What I didn't know was that, on an earlier trip to the bathroom with Auntie K, she had spied... you got it... a toilet brush.

Off we go to the bathroom, and no sooner am I in the stall with my pants down then she sees her chance. Scooch, scooch, scooch, quick as a bunny, she's under the stall door and taking off. "Remi, come back!" I'm calling, rather ineffectually, as I'm trying to make myself decent enough to run after her.

But she had not, as I feared, left the bathroom for parts unknown. No, when I finally managed to get myself decent what I saw was Remi, in the opposite stall, toilet brush in hand, happily cleaning the toilet. Now, if only they would hire her...

The Walk of the Town

Remi's developed a new walk. Who can blame her? At the ripe age of 2 her old walk has gotten, well, old. I mean, she has been using it for almost a year.

First it was walking backwards. She'd just walk backwards around the house, not really keeping an eye out behind herself. She got pretty confident with that one, but I suppose the shortcomings of not being able to see where you are going finally made themselves known. I haven't seen her walking backwards for a while now.

Instead, she's started doing this thing where she walks around the house with her knees bent, so she's always down in a slight crouch. Then she takes her steps in a kind of halting fashion, so each step is distinctly separate from the step before. Her arms stay still, but her shoulders kind of get in on the action. There's something very lumbering about the whole thing.

It's All About ME!

The Poobah is talking up a storm now. Not that it's all understandable, but she's slowly training us to interpret the nuances of her language.

"Weeee!" with a certain hand gesture means "I want to go swing!" A finger held up to the nose accompanied by something that sounds like "Mo, mo, mo" translates to "one more time" (interpreted in Remi's mind as something more like "again!" since one more time can actually be, like, a hundred more times). "Pee-ew!" with a hand wave in front of her nose may mean that she needs a diaper change, but may just as easily mean nothing.

But her latest communication achievement is "Me!" Simple, to the point.

I first heard her assert her me-ness when I took her to Fairyland last week. She caught sight of the ferris wheel and immediately started pointing at her puffed-out chest and declaring "Me! Me!" I didn't get it at first. Mostly because I seriously doubted that she wanted to ride the ferris wheel. But I was wrong.

The closer we got, the more determined her little "me's" became. And so we got in line, which wasn't moving fast enough for the Poobah's liking, so every couple minutes she'd re-assert "Me!" And it was finally her turn and I put her in the little toddler-size cage, which does not fit a Mama. She was okay for about 2 minutes, and then panic set in. And Me wanted out. And it didn't take any words or special interpretive abilities to figure out that screaming and putting her little fingers through the cage mesh meant "Get me out of here, NOW!"

So we did. And the tears subsided. And the moment we came in sight of the carousel her little chest puffed out, her little finger pointed, and her little voice declared "Me!"

Book Addicts Anonymous

Remi's addicted to reading. To the point where she's started bringing her books with her on outings the way other kids bring a blanket or a stuffed animal.

"Remi, do you want to go to a party and play with other kids?" A quick nod "yes" and then she runs to get a few books to take along. We stop at Trader Joe's on the way and the books have to come in with us. Remi has to carry them -- any attempts to help are met with tears and a determined effort to take them back. This lasts until we get to the blueberry display, at which point all books are forgotten in favor of her current favorite food.

She's started treating the books and the characters in them like 3-dimensional friends: she kisses the characters, encourages the animals to come out and play with her (hasn't happened yet, but she keeps trying), and often just gives the books themselves a good strong hug.

At Remi's insistence, the reading thing has taken on a life of it's own. We read at bedtime, of course, but now we also read first thing in the morning and on waking from a nap. Five or six books at a time, usually. At dinner time she often escapes the boredom of the table to pilfer through the small bookshelf I have in the dining room. Her current favorite choices are A Breath of Snow and Ashes (a time-travel romance novel series) and The Art of Racing in the Rain (which likely appeals to her because of the dog on the cover).

Now don't get me wrong: I'm not complaining. As far as addictions go, I'll take books over, say, kiddie crack Elmo. I myself used to walk home from school with my nose in a book. It's a wonder I never got lost.

Baby Kisses

The Baby Kiss is kind of a unique, open-mouthed experience. As in, "Remi, can I have a Baby Kiss?" and if she's in the mood to comply she leans in to carefully place her wide open mouth over yours. It's charming, really.

Making Resolutions

Okay, so, Remi's not big on the language thing yet. She's got "Mama" down, though it's got a pretty liberal application (Dylan, Drake, visiting grandmas, aunts, and even Chris has earned a "mama" or two). She's also got "uh-oh" (often preceded by a purposeful dropping of some sort), and the other night she managed "hot," though that hasn't been repeated since. There are a few animal sound in her repertoire, as well: ruff-ruff and a rather unusual meow.

For a small person with very limited language skills, though, she's sure got communication down.

There's the purposeful push to get a person out of a chair, whether it is to then sit there herself or lead said person elsewhere. There is taking the hand to lead... somewhere. There is patting a spot to show a person where it is acceptable to sit. There is moving one's hand to a proper position, pointing, "aaahhnnn"-ing, and, when all else fails, there is screaming.

So Remi's got some resolutions this year. Printed in crayon. With a little help from Drake.

1. Learn Some Words
2. Learn to use the Potty

Pretty simple. And already, since the time I started this post (a week ago, mind you), she's got another word: "Wow." Used in appropriate context. Multiple times. With appropriate reverence.