Poor Nora. She barely has enough toys to bury herself with. This must be why she’s forced to spend most of her time playing with books, shoes, remote controls, tupperware containers, oven mits, chairs and anything else she can find that isn’t a toy.
Monthly archives for May, 2009
I ran in the Dexter/Ann Arbor 5k this morning and, afterwards, we packed up our whole little family and headed downtown for the “Taste of Ann Arbor” which is a lot like the “Taste of Chicago” except that it’s a great deal smaller and the food’s probably not as good. Also it’s closer to here.
One of the many treats of raising a toddler, though, is that she makes her own fun wherever she happens to be. Whereas some people might think of the parking lot next to the credit union merely as a place to ditch the car and get some cash, Nora sees it as an opportunity to have fun and practice being cute. We took pictures.
Nora’s recently discovered Jen’s Mulder and Scully action figures which (when deprived of their choking hazard cell phone, flash light, and FBI badges) seem like perfectly reasonable toddler toys. She has identified the parts of each doll representing shoes and wants very badly to take these off. Here are a few of many, many photographs of her kissing them, making them stand up, celebrating proudly when they stand up, and trying to remove Mulder’s badge (presumably to make him consistent with the season 8 plot arc).
Now I’m no librarian, but I’m pretty sure that this object does not belong on this particular shelf.
What you can’t see in this picture is that she’s methodically pulled every single book off the second shelf of our large bookcase and climbed up onto one end of the shelf so she could wiggle through the middle support and climb down the other side. This photo is of the dismount.
As of this morning Nora’s been with us for 18 (mostly) beautiful months. It seems like only yesterday she was born but we can’t remember what life was like before she got here. It also seems like yesterday that any of us got any sleep because it was yesterday when any of us got any sleep! For reasons that remain somewhat mysterious (I’m blaming precocious 2 year molars) Nora hosted an all night thumping and screaming rave in her crib last night.
Here’s a surprisingly spry little bean eating breakfast from a plate (and not throwing the plate to the floor). She also climbs up into her own highchair now and tries to buckle herself in, but I feel like photographing or filming this behavior would tacitly condone it. Anyway, it’s important to accessorize for the most important meal of the day:
Happy eighteenmonthaversary, Nora! We’re utterly exhausted by you but wouldn’t have it any other way.
Friday afternoon Nora, Jen and I attended the amazing 2nd birthday party of Nora’s age appropriate potential friend and fellow linguistics department baby, Salome. There had to be a dozen kids there and I’d be amazed if any of them was older than 5 –delightful chaos. There was pizza, cake, balloons (Nora was overjoyed), a rocket car, a tent, another tent, a rain storm, a bubble machine and another cake. Despite arriving rather late to the festivities, Nora had a ball. Actually, she got two (a bouncy ball with a spider in it and a hacky-sack soccer ball in a lovely gift bag). Many thanks to Salome, Anna and Raomir for inviting us to your excellent party.
Ridiculously, no one on the rubberducky.org editorial staff remembered to bring a camera so here’s a staged reenactment of Nora the next day wearing her new favorite hat back at rubberducky headquarters.
Just over 3% of the fingers in our house had a very, very bad morning today. Nora was helping get her clothes for the day (as is her wont) and slammed the 4th (ring) finger of her right hand right on the distal interphalangeal joint resulting in a fairly nasty laceration. There was much crying immediately after the event but she was quite a trouper during the washing, drying, neosporining, and bandaging of the wound. If anything, she was (and is) mostly annoyed at having something stuck to one of her fingers.
Here she is at breakfast, still tear-stained, and refusing to use her right hand for anything.