Monday, August 10, 2009


Look at this cute little girl, folks... Just a sweet pumpkin enjoying a fudgebar on a warm day, right? On the contrary! Shhhh ... this is a 2 year old trying to take over the world. Take another look at the picture... Emmy wore those sunglasses for 21 hours straight. When she was inside, she kept them on. When the sun sank below the horizon, she kept them on. When she went to sleep, she kept them on. When she woke up during the night, she pushed them up the bridge of her nose, and KEPT. THEM. ON. We kindly suggested on multiple occasions that she could remove them and therefore have improved vision, but no no no, we were messing with her image here. How dare we. Only when Emmy fell off a chair at 10 am the next day (no injuries, of course-- this is not the point of the story, people) did Ryan swiftly remove them and hide them while she was crying her little eyes out. And she hasn't asked about them since.

Now-- there are a couple things this says about our girl, Emmy:
  1. Emmy is BAD ASS. I knew that Emmy was a rough 'n tumble, tough girl before I even knew that I was specifically growing her inside my belly. So it's no surprise to me. But if any of you ever had any doubts, ask yourself this: have you ever worn sunglasses for 21 hours straight? Point proven. Moving on...
  2. Emmy is STUBBORN. She wants what she wants when she wants it just because she wants it. Got it? Does she want something else just as good, or even better? No, because that's not what she wants. Does she want anything that's your idea? No, because you want her to want that and she wants to want what she wants. Emmy is full on into the 2 year old's tantrums now because of this. At first causing great distress in me, especially, we're learning that usually the best thing to do is to leave her alone to scream and cry and thrash around, checking in every so often until it dissipates about 15 minutes later. What usually brings her out of the tantrum is Emmy inching her way over to me, saying, "bubbles," and pointing to her poor leaky nose. So I clean up her nose and move on to the next activity, hoping and praying that the next tantrum might wait until tomorrow to come along.
I've learned that some kids have tantrums and some don't. And apparently the fact that I was a no-tantrum child didn't create enough good karma to give me one of the same. But when I try to think positively about the whole situation (which is close-to-rare occurrence), I realize that I'm probably learning much more about myself and maybe even about Emmy than if she quietly did what she was asked to do all day long. That's got to pay off for both of us in the long run.


Lounging in the canoe before floating the Clearwater trail


Wren and Emmy: Bosom Buddies


Wren and Emmy, pre-kiss



Preparing breakfast by the campfire with Daddy


Emmy vs. Fudgebar

Yesterday's Spring Gulch Hike

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Monday, July 20, 2009

... Her Second Year of Life!

Well, a lot can happen in a couple of months... dreams are made, dreams are postponed indefinitely, and toddlers turn two-- the latter item being the most important for this particular blog. When asked, "Emmy, how old are you?" she responds "Two," casually holding up five fingers. It's a good thing number two was this year's birthday since "two" has been Emmy's favorite number and color for the last month or so. Super convenient.

So far Miss Emmy is taking the doubling of her years all in stride. She's learning bigger and faster everyday, and while her parents' minds are totally blown, she's like "Duh, dudes. I've always been a smart cookie." Emmy loves singing the ABCs (it's in italics for a reason), and in the last week, she's gotten them down pretty darn well. She's also totally catching on to colors. Two weeks ago she called everything "pink" and now she's referring to her favorite blankie as "green" and sorting toys into color groups (see butterflies below). She's more than occasionally speaking in complete sentences such as "I want bubby and night-night," and she's starting to use adjectives ("Sooo cute!") and understand emotions. Ryan and I almost melted into puddles of tears and sugar when we picked her up from the drop-in daycare a couple weeks ago and Emmy said, "Mommy. Daddy. Happy!" And we asked her "Emmy are you happy?" and she smiled and said "Yeah!" Christ, that'll make you go buy your kid ice cream and a puppy.

This last week, Emmy started Montessori for two year olds. She'll be going two days a week for about 6 1/2 hours each day. This enables her daddy to work at home without going bananas, her mommy to have some occasional "me time," and Emmy to have some consistent social time with other little peanuts. Aside from the weirdness of group nap time (what's up with all these kids laying all over the floor?), we think she she likes it pretty well. She's already shown her teachers her mad skills with utensils and drawing.

The pictures below are a random smattering from the last month or so. Please hold your horsies while additonal pictures and videos get uploaded to Shutterfly and Youtube, hopefully sometime this week. Enjoy!

Emmy was shown how to sort these once and then took it from there.

Stinking cute? Yes, I think so.
Yesterday's hike up to the Holland Lake Falls.

Leave this girl alone with an open drawer, and she'll come back
wearing two socks, one shoe, a winter hat and no pants.

Elmo has never tasted so good.

The reason for all that art training: the Elmo Cake
Emmy on the Big Creek hike, loving the sand and water.


Now understanding the concept of "saying cheese," Emmy will say "cheeeeese!"
to prompt us to take a picture of her, meaning that
we have many more successful pictures lately.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Gymnastics and the library, among other places

Well, it's about time to post again since Emmy's almost in kindergarten. Just kidding! But she will be turning 2 in about 2 months and that's pretty ridiculous. Below I have a sampling of pictures, in no particular order, of the last couple months of Emmy. She's becoming quite the big girl with all of her talking and moving...
  • To make sure that she has the most attention possible, Emmy shouts "Mommy, Gaddy, Mommy, Gaddy, Gaddy, Mommy!!" when she wants to say something, even when we're both standing right there and even if one of us is away. Just covering all the bases!
  • The organization of the blankets: somehow Emmy has become attached to not one, but three blankets, which makes for quite the sleeping ensemble. Magic blankie (the green one) is still top tog and truly essential. She won't nurse without it and it has to be on top so that she can feel it. (It's amazing to me that she knows the different texture of each blanket in the dark and knows when one is missing.) Sometimes in the morning when she wakes up we can hear the organizing taking place: "No!... Bankie!... Oh nooo!" Tisk tisk, you unruly blankies.
  • Emmy's been to the open gym at one of the gymnastics places a few times now, and she loves running around, watching the other kids, dancing to the kid tunes, and laughs a deep belly laugh when Mommy jumps on the trampoline with her.
  • She's also been attending storytime at the library and while she begins shyly sitting on my lap, she's dancing around 15 mintues later, doing her own version of The Hokey Pokey, integrating Downward Dog and saying "jip, jip!" (jump, jump).
So those are a few stories of what we've been up to. We're headed to Kansas next week to see family, friends, and those cute little doggies, Newt and Barry, who Emmy calls "Nut" and "Beery." Enjoy the pictures!


Puckering up for the camera after Daddy ran a 5k

A second go at pigtails

What an interesting hat shirts make!

A proud Dolly

Mommy's always stealing kisses, to which Emmy responds "A kees, a kees!"

Proudly focusing on her first cookie-making experience

Emmy loves standing on the chair doing projects in the kitchen

While still putting her legs in armholes, Miss Independent
can put on her own socks and certain pairs of shoes.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

... Cute Pictures

My boots may be made for walking, but unfortunately, my hands are not made for typing lately. However, why should that rob eager family and friends ("Emmy Lovers") from seeing a few pictures? P.S. It's very difficult to snag a picture of the girl lately because she's always moving and always wanting to look at herself on the digital camera. "Emmy? Emmy!"


Maybe a little big?


The Amazing Stacker
(Emmy not only came up with this idea herself-- she did this all by herself too).


A trip to the hot springs in Hot Springs, MT
Who doesn't want to splash around with this bathing beauty?

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

... Making Friends

Now that a big, yucky teething phase (4 molars!) seems to have subsided, Emmy's back to running for president, or Miss America, and making friends everywhere.

Yesterday morning, Emmy devoted much time to working on her relationship with Amina, one of our cats. Emmy won over Buddy, another of our cats, long ago when she first pet him, gave him kisses, and then laid on him. Boo, yet another cat, tends to stay away from loud, quick-moving children. But back to Amina-- this kitty was sitting on the bottom shelf of our rolling kitchen cart thing, so Emmy climbed in with her and had a conversation. The only part I could recognize was that Emmy was informing Amina where her nose was. Then Emmy was set on reading Amina a book ("book, book!") and spent the next couple hours chasing Amina with a book, telling her "no, no, no" so that she would stay still. Amina would pause, Emmy would sit down, begin reading, and then Amina would get back to making rounds through the house. Still, a determined effort on Emmy's part.

Next, Emmy wanted to snuggle up with the inanimate objects. She found a very large, unopened bottle of Scope mouthwash underneath the bathroom sink and gave it a big hug and kiss, calling it "baby." Maybe she notices her parents' morning breath afterall...

Finally, on to spending time with her closest kid-friend, Marley (almost age 4 now)... While I was changing Emmy's diaper, I was telling her that Aunt Jennie and Marley were coming over soon, and Emmy's eyes lit up (even brighter than they are already). "Ma-yee! Ma-yee!" she exclaimed, saying Marley's name for the first time. And as soon as we were done she ran to the door to wait for Mr. Marley. At the end of Marley and Emmy's time today, Jennie asked Marley if he would give Emmy a hug. Emmy put out her arms, waiting patiently for a suddenly shy 4 year old to give her some love. "Ug, ug," she reminded him. We decided that Marley might be okay with Emmy hugging the knee of his crossed leg, so she went along with that, laying her head on his knee, while Marley pretended the whole thing wasn't happening.

The girl's got love to give! Who wants some?!

(Aunt Misty took this action shot while we were in Tennessee)

Friday, January 30, 2009

... The Naturopath

I had decided that I was done taking Emmy to the family practice doctor we had been seeing after our last visit in July. She wasn't a bad or mean lady; we just didn't see eye to eye on a couple issues, and it would create the biggest ball of dread in my stomach before I would take Emmy to an appointment, knowing that I'd have to be on my A-game to defend my decisions.

Issue #1: Vaccinations
I'm not against them. It was just important for me to read the literature out there (my favorite being The Vaccine Book by Dr. Sears), and make my own decisions about what was right for my child in regards to quantity and timing. I wanted someone less biased towards vaccinations to help me with the decision-making process. This was not that doctor.

Issue #2: Long and Lean Emmy
I needed someone to look at Emmy, not the chart in their hands to decide if she was a healthy little girl. Emmy eats. Emmy eats good things. (Emmy couldn't get enough brussel sprouts last night.) But her body directs her calories towards her height, not her weight. We don't really know why, except that maybe she did receive the best possible combination of Ryan and I's genes. Good for her!

So, finally ending the long mom slackage in this department, I took healthy Emmy to a naturopath on Tuesday, to see if this kind of doctor would be a better fit for my sensibilities. I really didn't know where a naturopath stood on vaccination issues, child development, etc. And so I found out!

Turns out that Dr. White doesn't typically see children for "well-child visits" since "childhood is not a disease, just like pregnancy's not a disease." Word! If your kid's sick or you have questions, you can give her a call. She said she didn't even know where her growth charts were and pointed towards the top of her bookshelves. She doesn't even weigh or measure children unless you want her to. Emmy is regularly weighed and measured at WIC visits, so it's never been necessary to double-up on the height/weight checks. We talked about vaccinations, multi-vitamins, fluoride, and ear infections all while she observed Emmy talking, reading to herself, playing with toys, and doing what I asked her to do (mostly). She filled me in on some common myths, like: there is vitamin D in breastmilk! Most women are just deficient in it, and are therefore not passing it on to their babies. So now I'm taking Vitamin D which perhaps has something to do with my happier mood the last couple days.

Dr. White checked Emmy for signs of food allergies and digestion issues, and came to the conclusion "Emmy's tall and thin." Amazing! For me, Dr. White put the common sense back in medicine. As she said, "Medicine's not rocket science." I'm sure that her approach might not work for many parents who would prefer more guidance and frequent reassurance that their child is doing okay. But "Responsibility" has always been my middle name, and it's the good part of my neuroses. I appreciate a doctor who trusts me to handle being a parent, and supports my decisions. I grew up in a Montessori world, where if you give folks the opportunity to take charge of their own learning and decision-making, it usually works out.

Monday, January 26, 2009

... The Body of Jackson Pollock

This morning I awoke relatively rested and pleased after a rare and decent night's sleep, meaning that Emmy only woke up twice instead of four or five times. But this peace and satisfaction quickly turned to irritability and impatience as Emmy whined her way through the morning, rarely wanting to be more than 2 feet away from me, and wanting everything that she can't have and nothing that she can. I gave up on much of my intended chores, trying to just be with her as much as possible and give her the attention and love she deserves, but for which I often feel like I unfortunately don't have the time. Enter now the constant feelings of guilt and shame which come with motherhood.

Well, after a time, Emmy was finally content sitting next to each other doing independent activities: I, checking my e-mail and such, and she, coloring on the floor (on a paper on the floor). I was thoroughly enthralled reading the blog of a fellow mom, who writes much more frequent, thoughtful, and touching entries than I do, when all of the sudden!!... Emmy pops up with black permanent marker all over her face and hands. "OH GOD!" I say, freaking her out. Here return the guilt and shame feelings. Where did that marker come from??? I have absolutely no idea. Perhaps the Ghost of Christmas Present gave it to her to teach me a lesson about taking my eyeballs off my toddler. So here's poor little sweet Emmy, all marked up after making a truly inspired drawing:
I get her mostly cleaned up-- who knows when the last remnants will slough off. And then I decide to clean myself up too, figuratively more than literally, and take a shower. I get undressed and Emmy sees something on me which makes her walk briskly out of the bathroom and return with a purple crayon. I then figure out that she sees a kitty scratch on me and thinks that Mommy was doing some body art, and Emmy would like to contribute. I continue on with my breezy shower with the door open (as this is how we do things when one of us is alone with Emmy), and Emmy really wants to hand me a crayon. I try to think of something she'll understand, so I say "Please put the crayon on the potty. Thank you!" Then she lifts the lid of her own little potty and puts that crayon and another one she's found in the meantime into the potty. No biggy because Emmy's potty is just for looking at and not for using at this point, but still-- you don't want your kid thinking that a toilet is a good place to store her belongings. I've still got conditioning and soaping to go, so I try another game: "Emmy, find the triangle!" There are blocks all over the bathroom floor and I figure talking about shapes will get me through the rest of my shower. Emmy scans the floor, then again walks quickly from the bathroom returning with her book with different foam shapes in it. Then Emmy, the smart little thing, pops out the yellow triangle.

One minute she's absolutely maddening, and the next she's sweet and miraculous. And that leads to my true realization from the morning: Emmy's always trying to do her best, and so am I. We just want to please the heck out of each other. I love her to pieces for her efforts, and she loves me to pieces because a bright-eyed 18 month old doesn't know any other thing to do.