Oh, dear. There’s just so much to write. So much to be forgotten, and I don’t want to forget any of it, so I’ll write some of it down now.
1. The Nose Honk – Like many parents, Dan and I each make honking sounds whenever Anne touches one of our noses. (Well, Dan honks and I beep.) The other night we were all lying in the bed, just laughing and tickling and having fun. I was saying something to Dan, and Anne put her hand on my nose. I didn’t think about why she was doing that, and I just kept saying whatever to Dan. Suddenly, Anne yelled, “Honk! Mommy, HONK!”
2. She’s informed us that she wants to be called “Annie.” This morning, I went into her room as she was waking up. “Good morning, Miss Anne!” I said, as I always do. She shook her head and said, “No. Annie, Annie, Annie.” (I’m still calling her Anne, as I don’t see her as an “Annie,” and she’ll probably decide in the next week (or the next decade) that she hates “Annie.” We’ll see.) (I did call her “Annie” a couple of times, and she just beamed.)
3. She’s peeing in the potty pretty regularly. I always swore I wouldn’t be one of those moms who blogged about potty-training, and here I am. Oh well. She’s pooped in the potty a few times. We might do a “potty-training boot camp” once school is out and I’m no longer at my tech writing job.
4. She goes to preschool now. I have lots of stuff to write about that, but I’m not going to write much right now. Too many mixed feelings and uncertainties still. But it’s been a good move in many, many ways.
5. Miss Anne will be two in less than two weeks. She wants to have a Peppa Pig birthday party. Unfortunately, Peppa Pig memorabilia is super expensive unless you live in England. And we don’t live in England.
6. She has a Dora the Explorer fixation. She’s seen the show maybe three times, but she absolutely loves Dora. I can’t understand it. I can appreciate Elmo and Little Bear and Peppa Pig, but … Dora? I just don’t get it.
7. She’s also a Julie Andrews fan. This makes me very happy. She loves Mary Poppins. One day, I popped in my “Sound of Music” CD and started playing “Do Re Mi.” Anne’s face lit up and she yelled, “Mary Poppins!”
8. She’s also a Yanni fan. I’m not sure what to think about this.
9. At Kindermusik, when it’s time to put something away, the teacher will sing something like, “Bells away, bells away, time to put the bells away” (using the same tune as “A-Tisket, A-Tasket”). Well, when she’s in the tub and she’s ready to get out, Anne will start singing, “Toys away, toys away,” as she puts all of her bath toys up.
10. One night at Kindermusik, we were playing with scarves. The teacher started to sing, “Scarves away …” and Anne immediately ran to the bag where the scarves are kept and walked around the circle, holding the bag out so everyone could put their scarves away.
11. Another Kindermusik thing: Anne keeps an eagle eye on everyone to make sure everyone has what they need. Does one kid’s mommy have only one maraca while everyone else has two? Anne goes and gets her a maraca. Does another kid not have a ball to bounce? Anne gets the kid a ball. It’s the sweetest thing.
12. We got in a bit of a food argument the other night. She wanted to watch Dora. I wanted her to finish her broccoli. She loves broccoli, but she’d decided she didn’t want any. (This is really funny because my dad and I had a famous war over eating broccoli when I was about four years old. I won.) Anyway, I would say, “No broccoli, no Dora.” She went to the door to the basement and cried. “Dora! Watch Dora!” “No broccoli, no Dora,” I repeated. I felt so sorry for her, but I couldn’t exactly back down. Finally she came back to the table, grabbed her broccoli off her plate, and stuffed it into her mouth. It was the funniest thing—she had this look on her face that seemed to say, “OK, Mommy, I’ll concede this time.”
13. The next night, she wanted more rice but she hadn’t eaten any of her cauliflower (and she loves cauliflower even more than she loves broccoli). “More rice!” she said. “Eat your cauliflower first,” I replied. She ignored me: “More rice!” She turned to point to the pot on the stove. “No, Anne,” I said. “No cauliflower, no rice.” She sort of huffed, and ate her cauliflower. Then she looked at me: “More rice.”
14. Her favorite things to drink are “ah-ju” (orange juice) and “nuggie” (milk). She tasted my “Daddy Coke” (Diet Coke) once and made the most horrible face—probably not too different from the face I made the first time I ever had it, back in 1984. Then she looked at me pleadingly. “More Daddy Coke, Mommy?” I have no clue why she said that, unless the caffeine jolt just had that strong of an effect on her. (She didn’t get any more Daddy Coke.)
15. I think I’ve written enough for now. One cool thing that I don’t know if I’ve mentioned is that my daughter, who has been the spitting image of her daddy for most of her short life, has started to look like me. I never dreamed it possible, but it’s happening. It’s weird but wonderful. Wonderful but weird.
16. One more thing: She tells people “I love you.” Last night when she kissed me good night, she said, “I love you.” When she leaves preschool each day, she tells her preschool teacher “I love you.” She has no idea how profoundly that makes someone’s day, to hear a sweet two-year-old saying, of her own volition, “I love you.”
I love her. I love her so much.