the other day I picked G up from daycare, which does not happen all that often. She was on the other side of the room and did not see me, one of the teachers was standing by the gate to her room. So I said, “better step back, she’s going to charge like a bull soon.” I called G, and it is so cute she knows her name and my voice she turned right away, her face lit up, and then it was full steam ahead! The teacher swung the gate open and I got bullrushed!!! where’s the clown when you need him?

Its everywhere! It can’t be stopped. I see your boop and I am zeroing in and will not be stopped. and when I connect I will push your boop like i need the elevator: firmly and with purpose, making sure that the boop actually depresses. Its particularly bad in summer. It was cute, it is cute, its obsessive. Its creepy and sweet. Its very invasive of my personal space. Its in the pool, in the kitchen, in the bath, at the gym, in the car, you got a belly-button i got a finger get the fuck out of my way. She booped Janna today! Soon she will boop a total stranger. She knows that you have a boop, and she knows you know she has a boop. and she knows that you know she knows it. its become viral, an evolutionary memory. boop! boop! its hard to turn down, I feel as though I am filling her with negative reinforcement regarding her natural curiosity and friendliness. So I accept the boop, i embrace the boop. again. and again. and again.

A great way to walk into to the house, after a stop at Trader Joe’s and picking up G from daycare.

Genevieve sings!   Ok, not really, but she does love music (particularly reggae and ska, but that’s another story).   On the singing front, she is pretty much a one-hit-wonder.   On radio Genevieve, it’s old MacDonald, all the time.     I dont know if it’s a sign of our horrendously neglectful habit of parking her in front of baby einstien or if its something she gets at day care, but she loves that damn farmer and she walks around singing e-i-e-i-o all day long.   She has a set of animal-related literature that she relates to Mac  D, and she walks around clutching these various tomes and singing until someone sits with her and sings the song.   We do the song as a duet, with her supplying the e-i-e-i’s and naming the animals and me handling the rest.   The only problem with this approach is that G’s farm contains only dogs, as this seems to be the only animal’s name she can remember.   I think she may be figuring out “cow”, but for now, it’s a “moo” in Genespeak.   I think she may also be on the verge of getting “horse”, but she seems to have a little difficulty determining which is the horse and which is the cow.   Her plight is not helped by the fact that she destroyed her “Snappy Little Farm Animals” pop-up book so that the duck has no head, the horse has no  nose, and the rooster is completely MIA.   Cruel, cruel baby.   She’s never going to win the 4-H competeition at this rate.   Maybe I should call the humane society.   That poor duck.

The baby is very interested in her shoes. Obsessed is too strong a word, but very very very interested is not. She enjoys grabbing her shoes, fetching other pairs of shoes from her shoe drawer, brining others their shoes to them, trying on others’ shoes to make sure said shoes are foot-worthy. this was fine but awkward on my teva’s, and potentially dangerous with beckie’s heels.

So she got a new pair of sandal\teva-esque shoes. Size 5 woohoo. such a big girl. And she stomped about with her new shoes. Such fun, such power, such potency. Stomp Stomp Stomp! and then stomping off to the shoe drawer to return with a pair of shoes! and then stomping off to the shoe drawer to return with a pair of shoes! and then stomping off to the shoe drawer to return with a pair of shoes! There are many pairs of shoes in the shoe drawer. Beckie kept lining them up, G kept running off for more. It was like a vendor laying out a display at the flea market. And when we ran out of shoes, G went back for boots.

Last Saturday in Flag, I spent part of the morning cleaning my bike w. G. We sat on the lawn, and while I worked she played with my tools. She seems to have figured out how to grab the wheels without really hurting herself in the spokes, at least she spins the wheel slowly instead of just blindly jamming her mitts into the wheels while they are spinning. This is very exciting news! If I can tune my bike without G risking chopping off a finger, this might lead to riding the trainer around her safely. It will be a lot more things I can do around her without worrying, especially since there are so many more dangerous and more exciting things in the garage she can screw with. She still is drawn to the dirty chain, and can’t resist the urge to grab it, then get her greasy paws onto the most stainable thing she can find.

tinyHUMAN

6-25-07

1. kila
2. shoes
3. boop
4. bb (aka blankey)
5. momma and\or mommy*
6. bubbles
7. noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

*Officials debated rigorously over whether this constitutes one word, or two. It was decided one based on the tinyHuman’s usage of them together, in close juxtaposition, or at the same time.