A New Friend

In the book I'm a Big Sister, book-Sara has a bunny she carries around everywhere. I'm not about to let some book-kid one-up me like that, so I laid claim to a bunny that appeared out of nowhere around the time Abby showed up. The reassuring rattle of my new friend Nunny's head reminds me of Dad as I drift off to sleep.

Babies are the new ducks

Waterfowl are so last year. Everyone who's anyone now demands baby movies. There's a really cute one whose oeuvre I revisit every day. Mom says it's me, but I know she's just trying to get me to identify with the protagonist.

Ride 'Em Cowboy

Grownups only tell kids not to stand on chairs because they don't want us to discover how exciting it is to tip them over and ride them to the floor. As anyone who's seen Dr. Strangelove knows, the higher the fall, the more fun for all. The bruises on my hands and knees are a small price to pay for the cred I'm going to get at the Krippe.

Coffee and an 8x10, please

I like going to brunch at Kistenpfennig because this corner is my favorite color. They should totally switch from selling pretzels to glamor photography.

Open, Says Me

In the mornings, when Mom's still in the bedroom with Abby, sometimes Dad closes the bedroom door. Usually I protest against this horrible injustice to no avail. But today I tried a new tactic: I asked nicely. "Daddy, o(pen) dee do(or) p(l)ease: Mommy (is in there)!" Amazingly, it worked. Wonder if I'll remember how to do it tomorrow.

I also tried "Open the door please" on a can of wooden blocks, but Mom didn't understand. After a few tries I switched to "Open the blocks". She's still learning, so I'm flexible.

Sole Proprietor

Mom's shoes are hard to fill. Maybe I should get out the Play-Doh.

Game On

People are playing D&D here again. I'm getting too big to cast charm person without a verbal component, so Dad's teaching me to yell "twenty!" every time someone rolls a die. I was going to take a level of Rogue, but Mom got mad when I beat her initiative and swiped the dice.

E-ink, meet e-crayon

I'm not sure what computer people mean when they talk about "screen drawing," but now I know it doesn't involve crayons. Sorry, Dad.

Nook

At last, I've found my niche.

I Want to Ride My Bicycle

Dad keeps saying that my Chariot is designed to be pulled rather than pushed, but until today I didn't believe him. (He also says I've ridden in it that way before, but I don't remember a thing.) Bundled up in lots of warm clothes and a quilted stroller-bag, it was a little chilly, a little scary... and a lot of fun! I'm inspired to practice my latest word: "bicycle".

Shadows

Dad's teaching me about shadows. So far I've learned that Mom is much bigger than anyone else, and I come up to Dad's shoulder.

Swing is Here

Life is skittles, and life is beer. Or at least ice cream: 14°C (57°F) on a January morning, and the outdoor tables at the corner Eiscafe were packed. So how come all I got was a push?

Double Thighs

I watched Dad changing Abby's diaper today. She gets messy in places where I've never had places. You've heard of double chins, right? Is there even a name for an extra crease in your upper thigh?

Abby's now 11 lb 14 oz, and I've been hovering around 21 lb for a couple of months. At this rate she's going to outweigh me before she's 6 months old. But I'll still win the wrestling matches, because I can roll over — not to mention running to get Mom.

Epiphany

Today is Epiphany, a holiday here in Bavaria. My epiphany: I have pockets I can put things in! I know I put a purple and a blue hair tie in there, I just can't figure out where they went.

Slip Slidin' Away

It warmed up and melted all the snow, then it cooled off again, then it rained, then it snowed some more. I wish the weather would make up its mind. This sidewalk looks wet, but if Mom and Dad's flailing and curses are any indication, it's solid glare ice all the way. Whee, maybe I can learn to skate.

Wardrobe Wishes

Dad gets me ready for daycare in the morning while Mom takes care of Abby. I was content to let him choose my outfits until he started doing it without turning on the lights. So much for geek fashion sense. Now I sometimes pick my own clothes, even if I have to toss all the pants out of the dresser to find the coveralls.

At least nobody can say my mother dresses me funny.

Marking Time

Guess what Santa gave me: markers! Guess what I can do way better with markers than with crayons or colored pencils: draw on myself! And then I made some handprints for posterity.

For some reason Dad was kind of surprised by this. You'd think he'd be inured to it after watching Rebecca draw all over herself for years.

Method for Transfering Information Using Sequences of Non-Repeating Linguistic Tokens

Who would have believed it? As much as you can say with one word, you can say even more with two or three. Abby wuh-wuh, more bottle milk, no apple, mommy eat this, more ducks please... the list of possible combinations goes on and on. I may have to contact a patent attorney.

Wash and Wear

My bedtime routine has been pretty well established for a while now. Drink bottle of milk, eat vitamin, wash hands and face, brush teeth, apply face cream, take fluoride. Diaper, game of "Boo!", pajamas, books, song, sleep.

Thing about established routines is, they get boring. So I'm adding a new step: soak hair. I wasn't sure Mom and Dad would be too keen, so I've been rubbing maple syrup and yogurt on my head. They tried preventing that, but I had a fallback plan: runny nose.

Abby Wuh-wuh

I fell off the pacifier wagon since they're around all the time for Abby to use. Ironically, Abby never wants to use one, even though I offer them constantly and insistently. Come on, sis, show some solidarity.