Pictures--

Feeling guilty that I haven't had any new pics for a while now--I'm sure my mom and dad have been patiently checking, so . . .

Becca with Grandma and Cousin Kaitlyn

She can FINALLY reach the bird.  Success!

Dancing with Daddy
I'll try not to go so long next time.

Just a footnote to yesterday's post---

I went to the OBGYN this morning (annual--woo hoo) and Becca came along for the ride.  No fewer than 3 people commented on how "observant" she was.  

"She doesn't miss a trick," the nurse pointed out as she handed the doctor the newest tool they use.  I think anyone would have been watching, though; the woman was waving a glow stick.

"Alert"

Since Becca was tiny, we've rarely gone anywhere without someone commenting on how "alert" she is.  We hear it everywhere: the grocery store, Walmart, the neighbors (our "everywhere" is not as extensive as it used to be) . . . even the nurse at the doctor's office, who sees baby after baby, commented.  "Alert" is generally the word, but once in a while it's replaced by words like "awake" or "watchful."  Everyone but the Amish, that is; they never comment on her at all.

And while I'm a little nervous that I'm the only one who doesn't know that "alert" is the infant equivalent of "great personality" or "sweet spirit" (Utah term?), I prefer to think of it as a compliment.  The girl does have eyes in the back of her head.

Giggle Monkey

The Princess and the Pee

So we've joined a playgroup.  It's technically a group for two- and three-year-old girls, but three of the moms also have little boys born last fall.  We usually meet at a park on Tuesdays, and with all these toddlers, talk always circles around to potty training.

When Becca was tiny we thought she'd be really, really easy to train.  She HATED wet diapers, so much so that she'd cry every time she was a tiny bit wet.  She even went through a phase where she'd cry, I'd start to take off a dry diaper, she'd tinkle at me (something I mistakenly thought was a boy thing), and then smile as she got a new, dry diaper.  I got smarter about opening and re-closing the old one, waiting for the flood, and then stripping her down.  

She'd wake us up at night, just to be changed.  I got really good at changing her in her little bed without letting her totally wake up, but not really good about doing it without waking up myself.  This disappeared after a while.

Now she has a new trick.  

Along with the sippy cup and increased fluid intake, is, well, you know.  So we change more diapers.  Last week she had me up at 4 a.m. because her Pampers couldn't take the pressure.  We cut back the water the next night, but when I went to rub her back to sleep in the early morning I hit wet jammies, sheets, and baby.  This time, though, the diaper was almost totally dry.  I less-than-sweetly explained this to Rich, who'd put on the (incredibly loose) diaper in question, as I wiped her down and put her in dry jams.  Just as I was zipping her up, I caught her reaching down and pulling one of the tabs back open.  

 I'm really beginning to wonder how easy this training is going to be.  Little stinker.

Web Cam

It seems like if anyone else is around Rebecca is silent.  She makes plenty of noise when it's just the three of us, though, especially if it's three a.m. or so.  

She was "singing" for me yesterday, so I turned on the web cam.  While she was too distracted watching herself to really go at it, she still  showed off some of her more recent talents.  These include using her sippy cup, saying "ba ba," waving excitedly, sniffing, sticking out her tongue, and a little singing.  It's three minutes, but I didn't know what to cut out.  Sorry.  I mean enjoy (you can always decide not to watch).

Our Little Walker

Since Becca was tiny, she's loved to walk.  The other night she couldn't be stopped, and I couldn't help but take these adorable pictures.

So for Father's Day we headed over to the park, where Rich had wanted to check and see how she'd do on the open road.

She didn't get too far; she was more interested in walking over to the grass and looking out, so we took a break and headed to the swings.

And then tried again under the gazebo, with much the same result.

A Father's Day Card for My Dad

http://rattlebox.com/pickup/165384/rb58e2477db58

News Update

Mr. B.'s coming home tomorrow!  Had his gallbladder removed and is apparently doing well.  We're hoping for a speedy recovery.

Don't Tell Rich . . .

Becca's been working hard at getting ready for Father's Day.

It takes a lot of focus.
(Mommy's been working hard at keeping the crayons out of Becca's mouth.)

We Might Need a New Schedule

Becca usually has two bottles in the morning, followed by a solid lunch.  However, the last three days she's been changing her napping schedule around, and barely eating lunch before . . .


Today she slept an hour like that.  (But she did like the peaches.)

For years Rich has joked that if he ever wanted to kill me it would have to be done on vacation.  

Our first winter in NJ we decided to take an extended weekend trip to the Bahamas (West Coast people, it's closer than you'd think).  At about 4 a.m. Rich was shoving my giant duffle bag into the car when our neighbor called out to him.   Yes, 4 a.m.  Telling him where we were going, Rich asked Mr. B. to keep an eye on the house.  Mr. B. simply replied, "Where's Marilee?"  And then stood outside and waited until I came out before becoming friendly again.  Rich would never be able to sneak a body out of this house.  (Not that he technically couldn't overpower a man in his seventies, but still.)

Mr. B. always has an eye on the place.  We found when we first moved in that you never need to ask to borrow a tool, just go out in the yard with the wrong one and he'll be over with something to help.  Guaranteed.  If we forget to take out the trash, no worries, it will find it's way to the curb along with Mr. B.'s by morning, and usually find it's way back to the side of the house before you get home from work.  

"I was standing next to your house at 2:00 this morning," he announced one afternoon just after I pulled in the driveway, "and noticed the sound of water running.  It's coming out of that hose."  He pointed to what turned out to be the newly installed filtration system's run off drain, but still.  The house hadn't done that in the years the old neighbors were here.  I didn't have to tell Rich, either, because he caught him coming home, too.

About a year ago Mr. B. had a stroke and lost what was possibly most dear to him: his ability to tell stories.  He still communicates with hand signals and, thanks to therapy, has a few words he whispers out, but the man LOVED to talk.  Everything I know about the neighborhood I learned from Mr. B.  The man taught history for 30 or so years; he loved to talk.  And still, three weeks or so ago, I found that my garbage can had faithfully returned to the side of the house, even though we didn't bring it in.

Last night, Becca and I came home just in time to see the EMTs pulling into our neighbor's driveway.  I stood in the garage (Becca was asleep and Rich was in the shower) and watched out the window at his house until the ambulance pulled away.  "He's the only one who can truly appreciate you watching like that," Rich pointed out.

And as I walked his trash can to the curb last night, for the first time, I hoped it wasn't the last time mine would mysteriously reappear on the side of my house.

The Lake

One of the perks of our lake association is the little swim beach we have around the corner.  It's a quick walk (or swim) to get to and has a big picnic area (which we've never used except for the annual association parties) and some playground equipment, plus a beach, swim area, and dock.  It's private, so it's never crowded.   We took Rebecca there recently, not for the first time, technically, but it was the first time she got to play.  

She loved the swings,

but not the slide.

She seemed like she could take or leave the dock, 

but absolutely loved watching Dad on the "big kid" swings.

And since it's close we don't have to do a ton of planning to go there.  That's the best of all.

Having the lake in the backyard also gives us a chance to share nature with Becca.  Last week she saw her first fawns, right across the water in the neighbor's yard.

And she's always looking at the fish.

Best of all, it keeps Rich busy every summer.  (These aren't the biggest fish he's caught, but they were the first pictures I found.)

About the Boat . . .

Just a footnote to yesterday's post.  Last night Rich said he wanted to go outside to look at his boat some more.  I later found out that, even though his back was killing him, he put away all the boat stuff and dragged it out of the water completely on his own.  He figured we both didn't need bad backs.  So sweet.

The Agony and the Irony

It's done.  All but the last rod holder and perhaps a cup holder or two.  Rich spent the last few days waiting for the carpet to dry, and finally assembled it this morning.

Notice Rich's giant grin?  You won't, since as he loaded the battery in, the last step before the test drive, he wrenched his back.  Serious pain, the kind that makes it hurt to breathe.  We managed a tiny test drive, but didn't even bother to bring any gear.

So much for tonight's fishing trip at sunset; instead I'll be out there lugging a 50 lb. battery back to the garage.  

And now he's talking about building a dock.

A Tale of Two Turkeys

So the other day my friend Angie commented that the only thing her girls haven't liked so far (they're just a little older than Becca) is the baby food turkey.  Which of course made me think, "I have a jar of turkey.  We should try it today."  

1- Angie was right about the smell.  Worse than the beef.

2-Becca didn't HATE it, but she certainly didn't LIKE it either.

3-We tried the other half of the jar yesterday and she liked it even less.

4-Becca has figured out how to taste the tip of the spoon to see if it's turkey or rice cereal before opening her mouth wide enough to eat (the rice cereal).

5-She's been really gassy since we tried the turkey.

6-She has decidedly increased her poopy diapers since we tried the turkey.

Which leads to an interesting story:

Becca came home on Thanksgiving Day, and Rich's mom had generously made a turkey for us to have around the house.  We weren't up to cooking, and picked at it for several days.  

My parents came on day 6.  We made our free turkey from ACME, which was HUGE, and I picked at it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  

Becca developed severe diarrhea about this time, which the pediatricians thought was dairy/soy related so we switched the supplemental formula and I dropped them from my diet.  They said we should try an elimination diet, where I eat one food (turkey) for two days and then add one every two days.  

She finally went to straight formula.  

She won't be having turkey any time soon.

My Dad

Having a daughter has given me a new perspective on my own parents.  Yes, they always said it would.  And since today's my dad's birthday, I've been thinking a lot about how much he means to me (and how much mom does too, but it is his day, mom).  

He's liked some of the things he does for me

more than others, 
but he does them all just the same.

He's always supported me;

I love him, and know he loves me too.

I know he loves my little girl, and she loves him.

So even though I wish we lived a little closer, I still feel really close to him.  Love you, Dad.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

Major Milestones

Big weekend at our house--Becca had her first "date"  on Friday with a boy (play date).  They grow up so fast.  She said she'd just die if I brought the camera, so no pictures.  Sorry.

After I actually managed to get a picture of her front teeth

we went on to confirm that she emphatically does not like bananas.  I thought maybe little pieces instead of the jar stuff would be better, but she didn't like them on her hands and spit them out when I put them in her mouth.

Rich came home just as we were finishing up and as he pulled her out of the chair, she reached back, grabbed the big piece of banana off the plate, and dropped it on the floor with distain.  Guess it's time for a splat mat.

Saturday was another boat day.

Grandpa came over for another Sunday visit this weekend,

and we went to a great barbecue, but I left the camera in the car and forgot to go back out for it (translation: too lazy).

Rich is getting closer to finishing his boat.  The stuff he's been using smells terrible so we cleared out for dinner last night, and Becca used her big girl chair for the first time.  She actually lasted longer than I thought she would.  It was a real novelty, both for her and the people at the restaurant.  I love that it keeps her on the inside of the booth and that no other kids have been slobbering and smearing stuff all over it (since she chews/sucks on anything she can).  Totally worth having one more thing to carry.

And I spent every nap time yesterday cutting up/sewing one of our yard sale-purchased vests so that it would be small enough for Becca to wear comfortably.  Now we're ready for summer.

But the biggest milestone was that I slept from 11 p.m. to 6 a.m.  I don't know whether Becca was especially quiet or I was especially tired, but that's the longest I've slept since before the pregnancy.  I actually had that really paranoid "is she breathing?" moment, because Rich was the one that finally woke me up.  I could get used to this.