Lately when I drop Greta off at daycare, the ladies feels the need to tell me a story. Maybe it's because they know Carey is soon heading overseas and I'll be the primary caregiver. In any case, I find it amusing and as all who know me know, I like to be "in the know."
Today Miss Nancy offered, unsolicited, that Greta is the only kid who likes to clean up the room when they are done playing in a certain area. All the ladies make a big show of asking, "Who wants to help clean up?" While the other kids become suddenly interested in their shoe laces or the foam ducks, Greta proudly declares, "Gre-ta!" and starts picking up the puzzle pieces or the stuffed animals or whatever is strewn about the floor. I told the ladies that's because we sing the "Clean Up" song at home, and because her Daddy, NOT her Mommy, is fastidious to a fault.
November 16, 2006
November 15, 2006
Cheerios are so yesterday
For 18 months, Greta has adored Cheerios. We have a Cheerios book, where the round oats fill in the car tires. We have a plastic contraption inspired by Pavlov, where you turn the wheel and twist the lever and out pops a cereal treat. We've survived many a long car ride thanks to a handful of Cheerios squirreled away by Mommy.
That was then.
This is now.
Introducing... Apple Jacks!
My sister and I used to only get sugared cereal when we got a 100 on our report card.
Greta gets them when they're on sale at the commissary.
Don't be overly alarmed though. We don't reach for the mini boxes very often and the doc said her teeth show no sign of premature decay.
The beanie, by the way, was a gift from Aunt Kathy. I'm amazed she wears it, but she sure can pull it off, huh?
That was then.This is now.
Introducing... Apple Jacks!
My sister and I used to only get sugared cereal when we got a 100 on our report card.
Greta gets them when they're on sale at the commissary.
Don't be overly alarmed though. We don't reach for the mini boxes very often and the doc said her teeth show no sign of premature decay.
The beanie, by the way, was a gift from Aunt Kathy. I'm amazed she wears it, but she sure can pull it off, huh?
November 14, 2006
18 Month Well Baby Visit
As the name of this blog suggests, Greta grows! Unfortunately, yesterday was our worst doctor's visit ever. I think she was having flashbacks to the allergist she recently saw, because from the minute we walked into the room where they measure, weigh, and take vitals, she entered full meltdown mode.
The technician was very understanding, and we weighed Mommy alone (with tantrum-child stomping nearby), and then Mommy with Greta. Fully dressed, with fancy New Hampshire shoes on, she tipped the scales at 10.8 kilos (23.8 lbs). She wasn't very cooperative with the height measurement, although we tried to entice her to stand next to the wall ruler with stickers to place on the wall. She smacked them away, but not before the tech jotted down 83.9 cm (33 inches). I'm not sure how accurate the head measurement was, but after 5 tries, I'll take the 47.5 cm (18.7 in.). Listening to her heart and lungs was awful as well, as she twisted away from the stethoscope with cries of "No, Mommy, no! Bye bye, bye bye, bye bye!" Her aversion to having her back touched or examined makes sense since that was where her egg allergy was tested.
Fortunately, we only had to wait a few minutes before the pediatrician came in. Unfortunately, the minute Greta saw her, the "No no no Mommy. Go go go, bye bye bye bye bye" rant began. Doc said she was growing great (45% for weight, 85% for height--keeping pace with their growth arc chart), was very verbal (which we knew), and said it could take two years for Greta to overcome her new-found aversion to doctors. No worries about her bulging lymph nodes (thank goodness), and some advice on my upcoming absence (talk on the phone, make videos and tapes, show lots of pictures).
Greta didn't get her shots because they were out of flu vaccine and I apparently scheduled her appointment three days early based on her 1-year shots (a fact I wish the Tricare Appointment Line could have mentioned), so we need to return next week. Should be fun. Then she doesn't need to return until her 24-month well baby visit, which doesn't involve shots (which is a good thing because Rob will probably be in charge of that visit!)
The technician was very understanding, and we weighed Mommy alone (with tantrum-child stomping nearby), and then Mommy with Greta. Fully dressed, with fancy New Hampshire shoes on, she tipped the scales at 10.8 kilos (23.8 lbs). She wasn't very cooperative with the height measurement, although we tried to entice her to stand next to the wall ruler with stickers to place on the wall. She smacked them away, but not before the tech jotted down 83.9 cm (33 inches). I'm not sure how accurate the head measurement was, but after 5 tries, I'll take the 47.5 cm (18.7 in.). Listening to her heart and lungs was awful as well, as she twisted away from the stethoscope with cries of "No, Mommy, no! Bye bye, bye bye, bye bye!" Her aversion to having her back touched or examined makes sense since that was where her egg allergy was tested.
Fortunately, we only had to wait a few minutes before the pediatrician came in. Unfortunately, the minute Greta saw her, the "No no no Mommy. Go go go, bye bye bye bye bye" rant began. Doc said she was growing great (45% for weight, 85% for height--keeping pace with their growth arc chart), was very verbal (which we knew), and said it could take two years for Greta to overcome her new-found aversion to doctors. No worries about her bulging lymph nodes (thank goodness), and some advice on my upcoming absence (talk on the phone, make videos and tapes, show lots of pictures).
Greta didn't get her shots because they were out of flu vaccine and I apparently scheduled her appointment three days early based on her 1-year shots (a fact I wish the Tricare Appointment Line could have mentioned), so we need to return next week. Should be fun. Then she doesn't need to return until her 24-month well baby visit, which doesn't involve shots (which is a good thing because Rob will probably be in charge of that visit!)
November 13, 2006
Weekend in pictures
I'll share stories throughout the week, but here's the full slideshow of our weekend with the cousins. 45 photos in all. Enjoy!
Weekend in North Carolina
Lots of stories and a full slide show coming later, but for now here are a couple photos of Greta and her cousins. That's Greta & Kate, first, having fun with stickers. And then with the Steele kids at dinner Friday night. (clockwise from Greta, it's Riley, Carah (obscured), Kate, and Matthew.
November 09, 2006
Window gazing
One of Greta's favorite things is to look "out" through things -- doors, windows, anything with glass. Lately I've caught her doing it with a friend or two.
November 08, 2006
Beads!
Greta is about 70% spoiled. We don't give her EVERYTHING she wants, but most things. At daycare, for instance, there is a kid's-sized table featuring a wire and wooden bead sculpture. Lots of circles and squares and triangles threaded on loopy wires that kids can move all around. Well, we went to Ikea over the weekend and what did we find? Something Swedish toy makers, in their infinite wisdom, call a Bjorgadahl. Actually, I don't know what they call it, but I'm sure that's close. Maybe a Smorgobt. Here's Greta with her Bjorgadahl/Smorgobt, now proudly displayed on her own kid's-sized table:
November 06, 2006
Sunday meals
We've only been parents for 18 months + 1 day, but among the many senses we've honed in that time is the ability to know which of our friends will one day make great parents. Aaron & Amy Reid are at or near the top of that list. You don't need any more evidence than this photo, taken Sunday morning at the neighborhood playground after a nice breakfast with the Reids and the Winthrops. Greta is really into her sunglasses now -- thanks, Aunt Sara!
After they left, Greta took a monster -- 3 HOUR! -- nap, affording us the luxury of cleaning most every room in the house and allowing me to even watch a little of the 1pm football games. Mid-afternoon, soulmate Jay came by to check out the new play space. As ugly and commercial as the table is, I must admit the kids like it. They don't usually sit in one place for so long. But with strawberries, blueberries and cheese to eat, they were content for at least 15 minutes. I like this shot because it shows them mirroring each other. Not just the hand-to-mouth, but their cheeks, too ... both a lovely shade of crimson thanks to the wind chill and the change in temperature.
After they left, Greta took a monster -- 3 HOUR! -- nap, affording us the luxury of cleaning most every room in the house and allowing me to even watch a little of the 1pm football games. Mid-afternoon, soulmate Jay came by to check out the new play space. As ugly and commercial as the table is, I must admit the kids like it. They don't usually sit in one place for so long. But with strawberries, blueberries and cheese to eat, they were content for at least 15 minutes. I like this shot because it shows them mirroring each other. Not just the hand-to-mouth, but their cheeks, too ... both a lovely shade of crimson thanks to the wind chill and the change in temperature.
November 05, 2006
Saturday in pictures
No time for any witty stories, but here's a link to a slideshow from Saturday . Some really nice shots, if I do say so myself.
November 02, 2006
First Flush
Although I think we've only blogged about it once, there have been at least three occasions where Greta has, without warning, added more to the bathtub than simply toys or bubbles.
Just over a week ago, she stood in the tub and said something that sounded like "bahpoo, bahpoo" to which I responded, "Greta, we don't stand in the tub because it's not safe. Let's sit back down." She sat, but kept saying "bahpoo, bahpoo." I started repeating it: "bahpoo, bahpoo...what are you saying? What do you want? Shampoo?" She shook her head "no." I tried again "Bahpoo...Winnie the Pooh?" Again, "no." She then stood back up, adamant and repeating "bahpoo," and leaning forward. I echoed her: "Bahpoo...bahpoo...[insert light bulb illuminating here] BATHROOM? You have to go to the bathroom? You have to poo?" I asked, to which she nodded vigorously. I immediately started to lift her from the tub to put her on the toilet when out popped a tiny poo that landed in the tub. I was too late, but at least now I knew the code word.
Fast forward to tonight: Greta was enjoying her bath, smiling and splashing, and then she suddenly turned serious. She stood up and declared "BAHPOO!"
"You have to poo?" I asked as I scooped her out of the tub and onto the toilet (we don't own a training chair yet). She nodded and repeated "Bahpoo!" Within seconds she did her business like a pro.
After I cleaned her up and changed her into her diaper and pajamas, I took her back to flush the toilet. I told her how proud I was of her and how it was good that there was no poo in the tub. She reached for the toilet handle, and with her first poo flushing down the pipes, I realized our baby girl isn't a baby anymore!
Marquis de Greta
Our brave little girl visited the allergist yesterday. An abundance of caution on our part, but the Navy captain (which Carey assures me is a much higher-rank than an Air Force capt.) at Bethesda Naval said we did the right thing by bringing her in.
After a break-the-ice chat during which Greta toyed with a cross-section of a human brain and what looked to me like plastic models of the small intestine, we were ushered into the exam room. First we watched a DVD advertisement for an EpiPen, a lovely device that people with severe allergic reactions are instructed to jam into the outside of their thigh, straight through any clothing, when they've eaten too many peanuts or buried their face in cat fur. Then the nurse explained to us that she was going to prick Greta five times with tiny plastic needles (they looked sort of like miniature versions of the plastic sticks that hold homemade popsicles, but sharper). One was "the control," containing just water, one was a histamine, just to prove to the doctor that Greta's skin would indeed react if agitated, one was concentrated egg (the allergy for which Greta was being tested), one was the active ingredient in flu shots (to see if she could get a regular dose when it's ever available around here), and the fifth, well, it escapes me.
So the nurse asks us to lift up Greta's shirt. All the pricks would be on her back. As soon as we unsnap the onesie, she starts whining and clings tighter to Mommy. Following protocol, the nurse takes a marker (permanent, of course, so the marks will take, oh, a week to wash away) and carves tiny, blue hieroglyphics on her back, one for each of the five samples. As Greta feels the marker tip on her back, her whine becomes more of a low-grade howl. But it doesn't hurt yet, so she's not apopleptic.
Marks made, it's time for the plastic prickers. Thankfully, the nurse is quick, although prick #2 doesn't work, so she reaches for a second sample and hits the same spot again. Greta's howl is now a roar, with salty tears streaming down her face. I start punching the air with each prick, like I'm celebrating a touchdown or something. Carey begins to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." Loudly. None of it works. The whole process takes maybe a minute. When it's over, we're told to wait 15 minutes and then they'll examine the welts and decode them for us.
So we watch the Wiggles. Capt. Freakin' Feathersword. Greta is interested for about 2 minutes. She then amuses herself by removing tissues from the box and mock wiping her nose. The tears dry quickly and she's back to her curious self after about 5 minutes. The nurse and the doctor return after 15, and we're told to pull up Greta's shirt again. Needless to say, it's a lot like ringing Pavlov's bell. Greta thrusts out her lower lip and begins to whimper. The nurse takes out a plastic ruler to measure the spots, the biggest of which looks like a mosquito bite. As the ruler touches her back, Greta rachets the whimper up into a howl again, and the tears begin to stream. The analysis takes about 5 minutes and the news is positive: Greta may be allergic to concentrated eggs, but she's likely to outgrow it. We should avoid giving her scrambled eggs, but shouldn't worry about other foods unless egg is the first ingredient on the label, like egg pasta.
5 minutes after hearing the good news, we pack up and start to leave. Greta's face is still wet with a few un-wiped tear streaks and her expression can best be described as worried. Who knows when somebody might lift up her shirt again and poke her back? But she relaxes a little when she figures out that we're really leaving. As we walk out of the exam room, Greta pivots on Mommy's hip, looks directly at the nurse who inflicted all the pain, and says, "Shank you. Bye-bye." And then... and then... she blows her a kiss!
Our little torture lover!
After a break-the-ice chat during which Greta toyed with a cross-section of a human brain and what looked to me like plastic models of the small intestine, we were ushered into the exam room. First we watched a DVD advertisement for an EpiPen, a lovely device that people with severe allergic reactions are instructed to jam into the outside of their thigh, straight through any clothing, when they've eaten too many peanuts or buried their face in cat fur. Then the nurse explained to us that she was going to prick Greta five times with tiny plastic needles (they looked sort of like miniature versions of the plastic sticks that hold homemade popsicles, but sharper). One was "the control," containing just water, one was a histamine, just to prove to the doctor that Greta's skin would indeed react if agitated, one was concentrated egg (the allergy for which Greta was being tested), one was the active ingredient in flu shots (to see if she could get a regular dose when it's ever available around here), and the fifth, well, it escapes me.
So the nurse asks us to lift up Greta's shirt. All the pricks would be on her back. As soon as we unsnap the onesie, she starts whining and clings tighter to Mommy. Following protocol, the nurse takes a marker (permanent, of course, so the marks will take, oh, a week to wash away) and carves tiny, blue hieroglyphics on her back, one for each of the five samples. As Greta feels the marker tip on her back, her whine becomes more of a low-grade howl. But it doesn't hurt yet, so she's not apopleptic.Marks made, it's time for the plastic prickers. Thankfully, the nurse is quick, although prick #2 doesn't work, so she reaches for a second sample and hits the same spot again. Greta's howl is now a roar, with salty tears streaming down her face. I start punching the air with each prick, like I'm celebrating a touchdown or something. Carey begins to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." Loudly. None of it works. The whole process takes maybe a minute. When it's over, we're told to wait 15 minutes and then they'll examine the welts and decode them for us.
So we watch the Wiggles. Capt. Freakin' Feathersword. Greta is interested for about 2 minutes. She then amuses herself by removing tissues from the box and mock wiping her nose. The tears dry quickly and she's back to her curious self after about 5 minutes. The nurse and the doctor return after 15, and we're told to pull up Greta's shirt again. Needless to say, it's a lot like ringing Pavlov's bell. Greta thrusts out her lower lip and begins to whimper. The nurse takes out a plastic ruler to measure the spots, the biggest of which looks like a mosquito bite. As the ruler touches her back, Greta rachets the whimper up into a howl again, and the tears begin to stream. The analysis takes about 5 minutes and the news is positive: Greta may be allergic to concentrated eggs, but she's likely to outgrow it. We should avoid giving her scrambled eggs, but shouldn't worry about other foods unless egg is the first ingredient on the label, like egg pasta.
5 minutes after hearing the good news, we pack up and start to leave. Greta's face is still wet with a few un-wiped tear streaks and her expression can best be described as worried. Who knows when somebody might lift up her shirt again and poke her back? But she relaxes a little when she figures out that we're really leaving. As we walk out of the exam room, Greta pivots on Mommy's hip, looks directly at the nurse who inflicted all the pain, and says, "Shank you. Bye-bye." And then... and then... she blows her a kiss!
Our little torture lover!
October 31, 2006
Trick or Treat!
Despite Daddy's plans for Halloween, Mommy thought I should at least have a little fun as I passed out candy. So she planned to use my bunny ears from Easter, put some lipstick whiskers and nose on my face, and use a Christmas ribbon bow for a tail on my yellow feetsie pajamas (is it really wrong to combine Christian and pagan holidays?) Here is how far she got with that plan:
She and I just don't have the same idea of "fun" sometimes.
I was quite happy hanging out on the steps in my overalls, pointing at the ghost lights and kitty.
I got to give big candy bars to about 15 kids (Mommy could not believe how many actually tried to take more than one full-size bar!), and I even had a little taste of a KitKat. Yummy!
She and I just don't have the same idea of "fun" sometimes.
I was quite happy hanging out on the steps in my overalls, pointing at the ghost lights and kitty.
I got to give big candy bars to about 15 kids (Mommy could not believe how many actually tried to take more than one full-size bar!), and I even had a little taste of a KitKat. Yummy!
Happy Halloween!
This is the closest Greta will come to anything scary today. At 18 months, she's still too young, according to her parents, to trick or treat. And she'll be taking a bath when the dozen or so neighborhood kids knock on the door tonight (only to find a bowl of full-sized candy bars with an honor code note attached). But two weekends ago she couldn't resist this gummy eyeball, swiped from a candy dish at Chris & Erin's house.
October 30, 2006
Bubbles!!!
Sunday was a gorgeous fall day here in your nation's capital. I had a soccer game in the mid-afternoon, so we spent our morning at home and then set out for a playground in Old Town. After exhausting the slides, the swings, and failing to fly a kite with the success we enjoyed in New Hampshire, we strolled a few blocks to King Street. The city of Alexandria closes off two blocks on the weekends, giving kids an instant asphalt open space. Smart-thinking Mommy brought along a vial of bubbles, and thanks to the prevailing wind currents, Greta had a great time chasing them down the street. They stayed low most of the trip, and took at least 20 seconds to pop. As she chased, Greta would narrate the journey with appropriate, "Oh, oh, oh!" exclamations and periodic factual declarations of, "Bubbles!"
October 29, 2006
Zoo Trip with Grandma Vickie
Greta had a fabulous time at the zoo with Grandma Vickie. Because of our limited time (post nap and lunch), we skipped the small mammal house she enjoyed so much last visit, and instead checked out the reptile house, where every other patron could hear Greta's "turtle, Turtle, TURTLE!" chant. The panda bears were quite the entertainers, scooting in the tree, ambling around the leaves, and playing with a card board box.
And Greta remained a HUGE fan of the giraffe, who was quite enamored of her as well. He was a mere five feet away sizing her up!Click here to see the slideshow and some additional pics of cuddles with Grandma Vickie on the couch.
October 28, 2006
Greta's new digs
I made the mistake of going to work yesterday. You know, providing for my family? When I came home (after a lovely adult dinner out with Dudley & Jen -- Acadiana -- yum!), I came home to my new living/dining room:
It's not horrible, except for the fact that when you're eating, you're about 5 feet from the TV, and everything you prepare in the kitchen now must be carried into another room and served. But I can live with it.
What I can't abide is Greta's new playroom, which accounts for, oh, 1/3 of our downstairs living space:
Positive: Our expensive, custom-cut rug is exposed and can be better appreciated. Negatives: The ring of toys and containers for toys that line the entire room; the -- gasp! -- Cinderella/Snow White/Belle kid's table, that is, yes, purple and pink; the bookshelf you can't see (off the left corner of the image) stuffed with such conversational classics as "The Eensy-Weensy Spider," "Eyes, Nose, Fingers, and Toes," "The Very Lazy Ladybug," and "Who Took the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?"
Don't read me wrong. I love my daughter and would jump in front of a bus for her. But I never wanted to be one of those parents who completely loses their sense of place just so their child can throw various plastic toys and books all over the floor.
All that said, I've lost the argument already, as you can see.
It's not horrible, except for the fact that when you're eating, you're about 5 feet from the TV, and everything you prepare in the kitchen now must be carried into another room and served. But I can live with it.
What I can't abide is Greta's new playroom, which accounts for, oh, 1/3 of our downstairs living space:
Positive: Our expensive, custom-cut rug is exposed and can be better appreciated. Negatives: The ring of toys and containers for toys that line the entire room; the -- gasp! -- Cinderella/Snow White/Belle kid's table, that is, yes, purple and pink; the bookshelf you can't see (off the left corner of the image) stuffed with such conversational classics as "The Eensy-Weensy Spider," "Eyes, Nose, Fingers, and Toes," "The Very Lazy Ladybug," and "Who Took the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?"Don't read me wrong. I love my daughter and would jump in front of a bus for her. But I never wanted to be one of those parents who completely loses their sense of place just so their child can throw various plastic toys and books all over the floor.
All that said, I've lost the argument already, as you can see.
October 26, 2006
Nona's Visit
A few weeks ago, I asked my mom if her work schedule would permit a trip to Virginia to help with Greta. Originally, I was supposed to be in Oklahoma City from Tuesday until Friday night of this week for a settlement conference and trial preparation, and Rob was going to be in NY/NJ Monday - Wednesday. She readily agreed, and didn't even have to use vacation time! Then Rob's plans changed, so he was only gone until Tuesday night, and last Friday, I won my case in OKC, so my travel was not necessary. But with a non-refundable ticket already purchased, and with my Mom in need of a vacation, the plans for a week with Grandma Vickie stayed as scheduled.
Thus, "Nona" is here and Greta is loving every minute of her visit. From daily trips to the playground, where the slides and tunnel are current favorites, to a nice (but windy!) outing to Cox's Farm, Grandma Vickie and Greta have giggled their days away. Add in some long walks to feed the ducks, hide-and-seek around the house, and cooking lessons (yummy apple crisp and banana muffins), and there is no doubt as to why Greta has slept soundly through the nights!
I am on leave this afternoon and tomorrow, and look forward to some girlie time. A trip to the National Zoo is on this afternoon's agenda once Little Miss G wakes up from her nap, and we might have another playdate with Sadie and Imogen tomorrow. I'll post a link to a slideshow of us at play later...having problems uploading pictures to Blogger right now!
October 25, 2006
Grandma Vickie's here!
I just got back from NYC last night and don't know the stories, but thought I'd share a couple photos. Carey can tell you what they did on Tuesday later. (She took the day off so all the girls could play together.) Along with our friend Jenny Bengs and her two girls, Sadie & Imogen, they went to a local farm for some fall fun.
October 23, 2006
Ahhhh.......
I'm in NYC for a couple days, so this will be my last post until Wednesday. Greta's Grandma Vickie is visiting, so Carey will have to post some pictures tomorrow. I think they may go to the zoo and see the panda's new habitat. For now, here's Greta on Saturday drinking from a public water fountain. She loves all things water, even the germy things.
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