Sometimes after my bath I like to bust out my favorite soprano aria. This is best done while in just a diaper and Mozart wig.
Opera.
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American Girl.
I am an American Girl, too.
Mom and her friends were swooning over these dolls, who are all owned by a lucky little fifth grade girl. They are called American Girl Dolls, and seem to hold some magical charm over their owners.
Apparently I already have one named Molly that is waiting for me in storage. I was told I had to turn 8 or learn to stop drooling all over my toys, whichever comes first, before I will be allowed to play with this Molly and her collection.
But for now, I will just enjoy looking like an American Girl Doll.
Girl meets boy.
I met an older boy yesterday.
You are about my size, mister.
Nice to meet you.
Wow. How do you smile that big?
He seems like a pretty nice guy. He just smiled at me while I babbled non stop at him and then I poked him in the eye. The adults in the room joked that some things never change.
Oh, and yes– that is Aunt L, but that is not her baby! Baby A belongs to another lovely friend of theirs, Miss T. I hope we meet up with them more in the future. He is a good listener, and those baby blues aren’t too bad, either.
Daylight What?
Mom tried to explain to me something called Daylight Saving Time.
So, one hour of the day magically disappears in the spring and reappears in the Fall?
Okay.
I don’t understand why this affects me. I just go to bed at my normal time, and wake up at my normal time. Mom said something about being annoyed that she lost an hour. Well, I don’t know why she is so upset. From what she just told me, she will find it again in the fall.
Auntie Gwennie.
Auntie Gwennie was here for a visit. She is really great, and it was nice to see her.
She knit me this romper.
She takes me on scenic power walks.
I love my Auntie Gwennie.
Artophile.
Yesterday we went on a family adventure to the art museum. Here I am in front of the museum.
“What is this, a museum for ants? How can children view art if they can’t even fit inside the building? The building needs to be at least…. three times bigger!”*
Well, I am relieved to tell you that this is just a model of Liebeskind’s famous building. It is actually much bigger, much more wacky and full of a lot of art.
My favorite painting was The Violin by Lichtenstein. Mom read into that a bit too much… I just liked that it was black and white and interesting. I didn’t know it was of a violin until she told me the title. I am probably not the only one.
*No, I have not seen this movie, it would be inappropriate for someone of my age.
The Oboe.
Today mom gave a small recital, and I enjoyed it so much. It was the perfect lullaby for my nap.
The oboe is taller than I am. How disconcerting.
That thing in my mom’s hand is called an oboe. I heard it for months before I ever saw it, and it seems much louder than it did when I couldn’t see it.
She felt badly about it.
See this smile on my face?
So happy. (Yes, I know I scratched my forehead.)
I currently have many reasons to smile, but over the weekend I did not.
See, mom puts me in cloth diapers. It has become her new hobby, well, obsession, really. She does all the washing with special detergents, line drying in the sun, and fancy folds that these diapers require. However, sometimes things can go terribly wrong.
That is my face when I think about how bad things were this weekend.
When urine breaks down, it creates ammonia as a by-product. When diapers don’t get quite clean enough, the ammonia builds up and can cause a burn on the skin. Yes. A burn. The nastiest sort of diaper rash.
I was hurting pretty badly, I was bright red, and I was very cranky.
So this happened.
While mom did this.
Boiling the diapers can get out all the build up. In cloth diapering terms, this is called “stripping” the diapers. Mom likes to think she is part of a long lineage of women who have boiled cloth diapers.
I have been slathered in ointments, and the redness is gone.
Mom still feels pretty terribly about the whole thing. She is glad I am better. Me too.
Three Months.
Three months old.
Another month has flown by! Not only am I taller and more beautiful…. I can bring my hands together and put things in my mouth. Ah, the small things in life.
As a comparison, remember these?
Two months old.
One month old.
Welcome Home Traveler!
Today mom got me dressed up and we went to the airport to meet someone special.
Aunt L has been in faraway places telling people about God. She also got to see some of the tallest mountains in the world. Both really great things.
Mom says the last time she saw Aunt L was three and a half years ago when mom and dad got married and Aunt L was in the wedding. (That sounds like 14 lifetimes ago to me!) Mom was pretty happy to see her.
I would like to point out the awesome skinny jeans that I am wearing. I am finally big enough to wear them! Mom says to not brag about that too much, because most women have the opposite problem.
Also. Do not be too concerned about that rather large gash on my forehead. I got a little carried away last night playing my arm flapping game.