Avi, What Are You Doing To Us??

Oh, Avi. You are such a small person, but make such an impact on us. Sometimes destructive, sometimes painful, but always with a smile!

This week, Avi's favorite pastime is pulling every single book, CD, tupperware, whatever, off the shelves. I'm kind of getting sick of picking up the same books 5 times a day.

Avi, who also puts anything that's not nailed down into her mouth, recently started to attempt to pick the hair around Mike's belly button and put it in her mouth. I am happy to report she was not successful in that one.

Speaking of eating, she insists on ignoring the signs we've taught her for 'food' and 'more' (and I know she knows them!) and resorts to screeching like a banshee if you don't give her food fast enough. Gone are the days of snacking on something sugary/salty/non-nutritious in front of her.

To read more about Avi's recent risque behavior, check out my recent blog on Chicago Mom's Blog, 'Take Your Hand Off My Breast.'

"When I'm Bigger, I Can Kill One, Too!"

Nourit is all about the things she'll do 'when she's bigger.' She'll wear earrings like mama when she's bigger. She'll like to eat mushrooms when she's bigger. This morning, she hopped up from playing on the floor and jumped up on the piano bench shouting, "There's an ant!" It wasn't an ant, but a HUGE centipede, which I quickly smooshed with a paper towel. Fascinated, Nourit asked if I'd killed it. When I nodded affirmatively she excitedly said, "When I'm bigger, I can kill one, too!"

Quoting our Children's Books

Since the only books either of us are reading lately are for the 3 and under crowd, we're trying to find ways of identifying. Surprisingly, quite a few apply to our life this week.

Dr. Suess: "Sad Dad Bad Had - Dad is sad. Very, very sad. He had a bad day. Oh, what a bad day dad had."

Jill Murphy: "Because I want 5 minutes peace from all of you!"

Mo Willems: "Where's KNUFFLE BUNNY?" (Insert DODO. 10 x per day.)

Ian Falconer: "Olivia (Nourit), time for your you-know-what!" But Olivia's (Nourit's) not tired.

Sandra Boynton: "We'reveryverybusyandwe'vegotalottodoandwehaven'tgotamomenttoexplain
italltoyouforonSundayMondayTuesdaythereareplaceswemustbeandon
WednesdayThursdayFridaywe'reasbusyascanbewithourmostimportant
meetingsandourmostimportantcallsandwehavetodosomanythings
andpostthemonthewalls."

Noah, Santa and God

Often, Nourit will say to me, "God is here." Or God is in the car, or on the swingset, but essentially I think she's beginning to comprehend his omnipresence. Tonight, Santa became omnipresent when she said, out of the blue, "Santa is here." "Kinda like God?" I queried. "Yes," she said. I then made a passing comment about how Santa is a good old man, but he's just pretend. God is for real, but Santa is just for fun. It was a strange moment for me. Mike and I had vaguely discussed the idea of Santa, and agreed we would downplay his "realness." When I told my 2.5 year old that Santa was just pretend, I felt like I might be robbing her of some childhood mystery. I'm sure it won't affect her negatively one way or the other - Santa's real for 4 years or not. It's still fun to have your picture taken with him downtown. But it was one of those moments that I wasn't quite prepared for. I might just need to make a chart with Noah, God and Santa all in a row, and explain the difference between all the kind looking old men with white beards.

I Tried to Cancel Netflix or How Mike and I Watch a Movie

A few weeks ago, I finally decided to cancel our Netflix subscription since a movie typically sits in our desk drawer for a month before we get a chance to watch it. I sent the last in a long line of bad picks back (we had a string of rather boring Spanish films) and canceled the membership online. Too late. The next day we received 'Cache' in our mailbox, a French psychological thriller starring Juliette Binoche that didn't sound remotely interesting to me. The last time I watched a French thriller, the babysitter ended up slaughtering everyone at the end. Gross.

'Cache' lay buried underneath a week's worth of unopened mail until I received a late notice from Netflix. I immediately dropped it into a mailbox and let them know it was on it's way. Then, it showed up back in my mailbox because I forgot to take it out of the original envelope (addressed to me, of course.) 'Cache' just wouldn't go away!

Last night, we put Nourit to bed 3 hours early since she was a crazed wild-child after no nap, and Mike's knee injury had exhausted him to the point he couldn't write anymore. And me, well, all I had waiting for me was a pile of dishes that could keep. So we sat down to watch this movie.

During the first five minutes, we rewound the dvd at least 3 times. The movie seemed to click to fast-forward mode at the same place and we thought I had sat on the remote or that Avi had kicked it. Finally, we figured out that what we were watching was a fast-forward of the movie the characters were watching. Good start.

The movie was interesting enough for me to stay awake, but as soon as blood was shed (about 3/4 of the way through) I was having second thoughts. The entire movie centered around this couple receiving threatening video tapes and pictures, and just after a character died, I was expecting to learn the sender's identity. We watched a final scene where I witnessed an entire conversation between two of the main characters while Mike saw only a group of people without any distinguishable characters. Then, right when I thought we'd find out who the perpetrator was, the credits rolled. Aaaaaaah!

I was confused and annoyed that it was not an obvious ending. Mike was perfectly accepting of the fact that there was no conclusion. We saw things the other didn't. Were we watching two different movies?

Memory Loss

Last night, I had the enviable task of snuggling with Nourit in the Ikea chair in her bedroom. Now that Mike is gone from the apartment most days, she stays up later to spend time snuggling with him and they end up having some pretty interesting conversations while I'm in the kitchen doing the dishes, or trying to put Avi to bed. But Mike injured his knee yesterday, rendering him unable to sink into the depths of the chair to snuggle, so the job fell to me.

As we were sitting there, I tried desperately to recall what it was like to hold her there as a baby. I tried to remember how she would look at me while she was nursing, or how she would pull on my long hair (something she still does.) I tried, but all I could come up with were images of photos we'd taken of her when she was an infant, or an articulation of those things - but not the actual memory. I remember in general that she was an easy baby, that I loved our time together when she was nursing, but I can't connect her babyhood looks and actions to her ever-emerging personality at 1 1/2, or 2, or now almost 3 years of age. There's a disconnect somehow. Why can't I recall something I was physically and emotional present for almost constantly?

I look at Avi and am so conscious of the fact that the baby I'm getting to know now might be a completely different little girl. How much of her tenacity in getting my attention, or getting mobile will translate into her character later on? Will I see as many smiles on her face at 3 years of age as I do now? How can I hold on to a moment or two of this evolving and growing person's life?

On a whim, I asked Nourit about memories during her, thus far, short life. Her answer made me laugh to myself, and although I doubt she really remembers things from her infancy, I still have to wonder if a little of it is true.

"Nourit, do you remember being a baby?"

"Yes, I cried because I wanted to eat big-girl food. I cried because I didn't want breastmilk, but I wanted big-girl food."

Ruminating on Thanksgiving 2008

Toddlers - Teenagers - Two A.M. - Turkey - wii Tennis - Tinker Toys - Twenty-eight people for dinner - Turkey again - Tummy ache - kniTTing - southwesT on Time - Time alone to Tinkle the old ivories - TicTacs - Tattoos