Conversations with a Toddler

At Dinner:
Jen: So I was all like you can't do that…
Owen: Well, you're right. He shouldn't have…
Eilish: FORK!
Jen: I know right? Kind of a jerky thing to…
Eilish: TABLE!
Owen: Maybe he thought that…
Eilish: AND ANOTHER TABLE!
Jen: It doesn't matter anyway because she…
Eilish: STEREO!
Owen: Oh, I know he wouldn't have said that if…
Eilish: MAMA! DADDY! TABLE! FORK! DRINK!

After a Nap:
Eilish: I missed you.
Jen: I missed you too.
Eilish: I was sleeping!

In the Bath:
Eilish: Moony.
Jen: Yep, that's your moony.
Eilish: Gentle, gentle.
Jen: That's right, be gentle with your moony.
Eilish: Eilish moony, Mama moony. Daddy no moony.

In the Car:
Eilish: Go home.
Jen: We're going to the bookstore.
Eilish: Go home.
Owen: We're going to buy Eilish a new movie!
Jen: Maybe a Dora movie?
Eilish: SURE!

In Her Sleep:
Eilish - Dora! Dora!

That sound you heard was Judes' head exploding

Jen - Are you brushing the dolly's hair? Very pretty.

Eilish - Mama pretty.

Jen - Oh thank you lover. Who else is pretty?

Eilish - Aunt Joan.

Jen - Is Liz (the nanny) pretty?

Eilish - No.

Jen - Is Nanny pretty?

Eilish - No.

And the Beat Goes On

Last night over dinner Owen and I came to the realization that there will come a point where Eilish will think we are really uncool. We spend the evenings that Owen is home doing crossword puzzles. He'll do the one in the Sun and I'll attempt the New York Times crossword then we'll switch and try to fill in the answers the other missed. This is what constitutes a rocking Tuesday night at the Connell house. Eilish will have no idea how 'cool' we used to be. You know, with all the under age drinking and whatnot. We can tell her about all the cool bands we've seen in concert (U2! 3 times) but by the time she is old enough to go to concerts of her own, our favorite bands will be even more uncool then we are. She will think the clothes I wear are dated and that our love of singing Chicago in the car very embarrassing.

Someday, she won't want to dance with us in the living room or go to the library with her ol' Mom on Saturday mornings. She's already gained an independence in her playing, occupying herself for hours at a time with her little people and her animals. She is stingy with her lovin' and would rather run around the house pretending to make soup then sit up on the couch for some snuggles.

Last night after her bath, I was putting her pajamas on and was zipping her up when she hugged right into me. Owen asked her what she was doing and she said, 'loving Mama'. I have to remember to treasure those moments because someday her pajamas won't need zipping and she'll be able to put herself to bed. Owen and I will still be in the living room doing crossword puzzles talking about the little girl she was and the woman she'll become. And the beat goes on.

Bath Time

Bathing with Eilish always sounds like a good idea in theory, not so much in execution. We've only had 2 baths together in her 22 months, one when she was really little and didn't do much other than sit there and another a few months ago when she was going through some bum trauma. Owen has bathed with her once, wearing swim trunks which is another story best told in person after a few cocktails.

Last night I had just about run out of patience with her (Me: Eilish, what do you want for dinner? Eilish: Ice Cream? Me: Nooooo. Eilish: Chocolate? Me: Do you want to watch a movie? Eilish: Toopy & Binoo? Me: No we have Diego, Max & Ruby, the Wiggles, Franklin {Mommy's discovered the library rents movies}. Eilish: Toopy & Binoo?) and decided to move the party upstairs. It wasn't quite bath time so we 'played', that is moved from room to room pretending to go to bed. A few Moms I know shower their children instead of bathing them so I thought to try it out. I ran the water, turned on the shower, stripped us both off and jumped on in. Eilish wanted no part of the whole standing thing and the shower curtain really freaked her out. Maybe she has a touch of claustrophobia but she lost her mind and wanted to get the hell out of dodge. So I plugged the tub, pulled out the curtain and we both sat there waiting for the tub to fill up. She was sitting sideways in the middle of the tub and I was pressed up at the end of the tub freezing my ass off.

So I got us situated, her sitting in front of me while I washed her, her 'washing' my knees and having one of those mother/daughter moments that I'll treasure….

…until she turned around and faced me, taking in all my nakedness and looking at me like, 'dude, do you think those cookies were a good idea?'. She had many a question as to what was what and why was there hair 'there' etc. She likes to push on some body areas and poke at others all the while with this confused look on her face. I felt very exposed and not so good about myself and it was made worse when she decided to climb up on me and use my chest and belly as a water slide. And thus endeth Mother/Daughter bath time.

Crib Inventory

When you first have a baby you are told to have absolutely nothing in the crib with them while they are sleeping. No toys, no blankets, no bumber pads. Nothing. Since Eilish was born in March we had a little sleep sack we used to put her in to keep her warm, but other than that her crib had a sheet and that's it. As she got bigger and started to move around in her crib, we added the bumper pads and as the cold weather approched again we added blankets. Somewhere along the way a stuffed lamb made it's way in her crib and things have snow balled out of control.

On any given night here is what you can find in her bed:

- Eilish (duh)
- 3 soothers (AKA suckies)
- 1 bottle (AKA boppy)
- 1 Lamb (AKA Lamby)
- 1 Lamb (this one is just a lamb head with a blanket attached)
- 1 baby
- Max & Ruby beanie babies (AKA Nax & Ruby)
- 4 blankets: unless I get back in the room after Owen in which case I remove at least 2 of them (AKA blanky)

She knows when things are missing and if you leave a blanket on her rocking chair, you will hear her cry out for her 'blanky' and when you put it in her crib she will pull it up to her chin or cover one of her friends with it.

Last week we found the Glow Worm Andrea had given her and that made its way into her bed. All night long, everytime she rolled over the thing would start playing music. The Glow Worm is now a downstairs toy. Don't feel bad for the worm though, last night before bed she changed it's imaginary diaper, gave it a kiss and put it to sleep on the couch, and headed upstairs to the little home she's built for herself in her crib, taking our hearts with her.

Poop, Pooper, Pooping

I could post about how wonderful our Christmas was or how great it was to be home as a family with Eilish for almost 3 weeks but instead I'm going to tell you a little story about the worst day of parenting Owen and I have had thus far.

It is all about the poop.

So, Eilish is a pretty good pooper. Stuff goes in, stuff comes out, no big whoop. Last week Eilish had been trying to poop for about a day and a half and nothing was happening. She had eaten a lot of junk over the holidays after developing a taste for After Eight chocolates. You couldn't help give them to her as after each bite she would declare it 'delicious'. We were pretty lax with her diet over Christmas and paid the price.

We put her to bed after nearly 2 days not pooping and heard her cry out after about an hour. When I went upstairs she was laying on her side crying and…straining. This next part is not for the faint of heart so scroll down for a cute picture and we'll forget this post ever happened.

I pulled off her diaper and saw would can only be described as an alien life form trying to make it's way out of her butt. I had honestly never seen her bum look like that before but to be honest, I've never caught her mid poop. Anyway I reached in and tried to remove the poop, only to leave a sizable amount still in her. That's when Owen arrived. For those of you who don't know, to say Owen has a weak stomach is putting in mildly. He is known to gag even wiping the kid's nose. We took her out of her crib and put her on her change table where she continued to cry and strain, it was heartbreaking. I started running around, crying myself at this point looking for some Vaseline. It was then determined by someone other than myself (Owen) that my carrying on wasn't really helping anyone (Eilish) and that I should just hold her hand, kiss her face and let the professional (Owen) get to work. And work he did. Using a Q-tip he chiseled away at the poop until Eilish passed what legend would refer to as 'a man sized shit'.

After she was cleaned up and still whimpering she looked up at her Mom and Dad who were at this point up to their wrists in her excrement and said, 'downstairs?'. So at 10:00pm downstairs we went and read book after book until she was ready to go back to sleep. It was our hardest and finest hour of parenting to date and we spent the rest of the night buzzed about our poop adventures.

2009 has started off as the Year of the Vegetable as Owen and I pretend to like all the vegetables we're feeding Eilish. She doesn't actually eat the green beans or (shudder) broccoli that we put on her plate that we pretend to enjoy ourselves, but what she does not know is that veggies have been added to everything she eats. I've hidden broccoli in rice and green beans in meatloaf. I'm like the Vegetable Whisperer and although she can't articulate it, I know her bum thanks me.