Christmas at 18 months

Kalina's 18th month of life, that of December, has seen her very intently decorating a gingerbread house at a playdate, "helping" roll out and cut Christmas cookies, twirling around the house to Christmas music, activating our tree lights, watching damp snow through the window, reading Christmas stories and pointing out Christmas lights whenever we saw them.

And then it was Christmas Eve. Amid the flurry of a last-minute grocery-store trip, tentative napping and a very successful fishing outing (seriously?), we remembered the reason for the season and made it to church.

Grandpa joined us for the Christmas Eve service, and so we acquired three candle holders to hold through the program to sing Silent Night by candlelight at the end. We wondered how Kalina would do during an evening service, but we'll never know due to the pervasiveness of distraction these objects provided. About half of the service was spent with Kalina sitting on my lap and handing the candle holders to Grandpa and Daddy, and the other half was spent with Kalina sitting on my lap and feeding the candles in the holders to Grandpa and Daddy. Everyone had a good time, and by the end Grandpa and Daddy each managed to wrest a candle away from Kalina and set them aglow. (I thought it best not to try to hold a flaming object while my daughter tried to grab it out of my hand.)

Later that evening Matt and I thoroughly enjoyed playing Santa as we carried downstairs the toy kitchen Grandma got for Kalina and put it in front of the tree (we'd be seeing Grandma later in Minnesota for New Year's, but for obvious reasons preferred not to bring the kitchen on the plane with us). We covered it with a festive green bedsheet and stuck a bow on top. Perfect.

Christmas magic smiled on all of us the next morning when Kalina woke all of us at 6:30 instead of the week's trend of 5:30. How did she know? However, that's still a painful hour so we lounged a bit before heading downstairs.

We drew out the suspense even more by eating a healthy breakfast as Kalina chalked the sheet-covered lump in front of the Christmas tree up to another one of Mommy and Daddy's strange ideas and we all tried to pretend it didn't exist so we could save it for a big "reveal."

And finally it was time.

It was easy enough to get Kalina to open her first couple presents, but once we got to the $1 set of tiny Play-Doh canisters she couldn't be bothered to unwrap any more, large green-sheet-covered gift in the middle of the room notwithstanding. We still have yet to actually open the little cans and dig out the Play-Doh inside, by the way. They're good enough closed, and are remarkably delicious as pretend food.

Somehow Matt coaxed Kalina through one more wrapped gift, and then we hurriedly got set to have the girl unveil her big present before she wandered off entirely. Fortunately, once we'd hiked up the sheet a little, video camera rolling, she was hooked and immediately put the kitchen to work. We all ate toy eggs and Play-Doh canisters, and then rummaged through the ever-popular recycle bin treasure trove for discarded boxes and such Kalina could use in her kitchen. I donated a pot and some plastic dishes, and Kalina merrily put things away in the "refrigerator" and filled bowls with imaginary water to her heart's content.

And then we all ate lots of sugary food, but I saved the least-sugary for Kalina. She also received Goldfish crackers on demand, and raisins as well. After all, it's Christmas! (Unfortunately, she was a bit confused to see that this trend didn't continue on December 26th.)

Grandpa and Uncle Tom showed up, as well as some friends of ours with a little boy 2 weeks older than Kalina. We all had a big dinner at 2:30, and Kalina made up for her previous snacking by diving into the roast beef and even some potatoes. On my lap, of course, because she was too scared to sit in the high chair or be put down for even a second (and besides, the guest needed to use it).

The rest of the afternoon was spent playing with Grandpa and handing things to Uncle Tom. "Look, a ball made of foil! Look, a bowl! Look, a couch pillow! Look, a plastic egg!" Kalina is quite the hostess and wants to make sure everyone is entertained. Sometimes she tries a little too hard.

We have, of course, been taking lots of pictures this season and Kalina had completely gotten the hang of it. She loves holding my camera up to her nose (yes, her nose) and snapping pictures of cats, the Christmas tree and Mommy and Daddy, as well as her new kitchen (it's interesting to see what's important to her). She loyally wears the wristband while holding it, so I don't worry too nearly as much as I should about it falling. Best of all, the camera doesn't even have to be turned on. We just say "click" and the memory is preserved.

What's more, Kalina's become a pro at posing for pictures. "Time to take your picture!" we say, and she dashes off to sit in front of the Christmas tree. She knows just how it works.

Christmas wasn't quite over yesterday, though. In the hullabaloo of yesterday's gifts and the fact that we thought it somewhat wrong to force our child to open her presents, even to the point of tears, we saved a couple for this morning and they were very well received. We'll also exchange gifts later with various other groupings, including travel to snowy/wet Minnesota. Stay tuned for relatively up-to-date reportings on Kalina's festivities. After a month of preparation, the season has still barely begun!

Photo 1: Christmas morning! Photo 2: Christmas Eve Photo 3: Getting ready for the big present Photo 4: Filling a measuring cup with imaginary water Photo 5: Kalina's new Christmas outfit from "Aunt" Renee! Photo 6: Kalina and Mommy Photo 7: Kalina and Grandpa Photo 8: Taking a picture of Mommy Photo 9: Unwrapping Photo 10: Decorating a gingerbread house a few weeks ago Photo 11: Playing with Frederick on Christmas (notice the plethora of argyle!) Photo 12: A giant Christmas Eve crappie Photo 13: A large Christmas Eve catfish Video: Kitchen play

Kalina's Christmas letter

Hi all,

This is Kalina writing (again). Mommy says she loves reading your Christmas letters so much that she wanted me to send one to you. She, apparently, doesn't have time in the midst of all the festivities, not to mention pretty paper to print it on.

First, I'd like to say Merry Christmas to all of you. However, I can't--not quite, anyway. I did say something that resembled Chrixth this morning, though, so Mommy's counting it. I've also recently learned to say "please" and "thank-you," and even kind of know how to use them properly. We've been pushing this one hard the past week. Mommy says I'll find out why tomorrow. It better be worth it.

It's been a good year--and one that's encompassed almost exactly 2/3 of my life. It seems like an eternity. During that time I've grown hair and teeth (I was rather bald-ish and gummy this time last year), I've walked, asserted myself with my new-found voice (that I'm finding surprisingly handy) and slept many nights in a row without interruption (not lately, however).

In fact, Mommy and Daddy still cite their biggest accomplishment this year as getting me to sleep through the night. I held out as long as a could, but after a while it just got tiring. I needed my sleep! They still need their sleep, they assure me, seeing as I'm still something of an early bird.

This accomplishment, I should add, even edges out Daddy's triumphant graduation with his PhD from the black hole known as grad school, and his securing of an amazing job in the midst of a broken economy. Daddy has also managed to get in some good fishing and a little hunting in the area. Sleeping through the night, by the way, edges out all of Mommy's accomplishments by far.

Mommy and I have settled on a nice routine that fills most of our days, including lots of play outings, chores and trips to the store (3 trips to the grocery store this week--somebody please come rescue me!), naps (perhaps Mommy's second biggest accomplishment) and even a Bible study that I get to tag along on.

In Mommy's free time, she continues to freelance, and is gratified to see her freelance "career" ramping up instead of fading away. She also has started volunteering with a crisis pregnancy center, and relishes the pleasant, predictable hum of the copy machine as she helps out every Monday afternoon. She continues to enjoy sewing and is actually improving at it.

In my free time, I've discovered that I have an imagination, and that Lamby is probably alive, as are all my other stuffed animals. Mommy says that I may or may not grow out of this--she never has. I still love books, and listen to stories at a 1st-grade level. I also love music, animals, being outside, and helping Mommy in the kitchen.

With the permanent arrival of Aunt Nancy and Grandpa, I've survived being babysat. It was strange at first, but now I've come to rely on them, and especially on Poky the dog, who seems to hang out with us whenever Aunt Nancy is around. Mommy is proud to see that I actually can be happy in the arms of other people--and yet is daunted by the fact that it took days and even weeks of togetherness to achieve that. She is continually assured I'll grow out of my stranger and separation anxiety, but somewhat ashamedly would be okay if I lived at home through college.

We also enjoyed visits from various other friends and family members this year. Or, rather, Mommy and Daddy enjoyed them and I stuck to Mommy like glue because I was scared of most of them, except, fortunately, Grandpa and Grandma Odegaard, who I allowed to pick me up after only a couple days of near-constant interaction.

We did some traveling this year, but you can read all about that if you're so inclined by just clicking on the label "travel." I will mention that once I was sleep trained, it took Mommy and Daddy a LONG time to want to leave the house with me overnight, which is one of the main reasons we haven't traveled more (the broken economy being the other).

Finally, Mommy's making me say that more than anything under the tree this Christmas, we're thankful most of all to God for loving the world enough to send His son Jesus to us, and also for family and friends, and our nice, warm, cozy (sometimes too cozy, Mommy complains occasionally) house, our steady incomes, Mommy being able to stay home with me, our good health and our happy little family. We truly couldn't be more blessed.

Here's hoping your Christmas is merry and your New Year is bright!

Love,
Kalina

Negotiating toddlerhood

It's come to my attention lately that there's nothing easy about being a toddler. Really. It happened the other day when Kalina was asking for:

"Flrah?"
"What's that, honey?" (I pretend I didn't hear the first time, but I'm really stalling for more time to try to figure out what a "flrah" is, and then decide whether or not she can have it.)
"Flrah?" (A little louder)
"Yes, that's right!" (Maybe if I just agree, we can move onto a different conversation.)
"Flrah?" (For heaven's sake, Mommy, just answer my question!)
"Umm..." (I scan the area to look for clues. What would a toddler want?)
"Flrah?" (If I have to say this again, I'll cry, and then you'll really be in trouble.)
"Flowers?" (I hazard a guess, based on the fact that Kalina is usually accurate with the starting consonant. Hazard being the operative word, seeing as I'm wrong this time.)
"Flrah!" (Starting to turn red in the face and sob as I frantically search for the right word.)
"Water fountain!" (I proclaim.)
"Eh!" (This is Kalina's word for assent, and it's accompanied by more sobs--this time, of relief.)
"Would you like to see the water?" (I already know the answer, and I've already decided that after all this hassle, we can waste a little water for the child's entertainment.)
"Eh!" (Wide smile and a giggle or two.)

And we head off to dabble in the water, me hoisting Kalina and pushing the button, and then trying to get her close enough to touch the water without touching the mouthpiece (that's not really a mouthpiece, but gets used as such by germy kids).

And so forth. Whereas I, being a capable adult, could just walk over to the fountain, push the button and play in the water all I wanted, easily avoiding the mouthpiece thingy. Except I wouldn't want to, because I'm an adult, but Kalina doesn't understand that yet.

In fact, there's a lot the poor girl doesn't understand. Why did she get Goldfish crackers for breakfast the other day when Mommy had a long bout of insomnia in the middle of the night, but not today? Why do we change from pajamas to clothes to pajamas to clothes, endlessly? And can't we just wash our hair once and be done with it for a year or so?

But then, there are a lot of things she does understand: that Goldfish are tasty for lunch as well as breakfast, and that cats make lovely furniture. And this is where the negotiations begin, with my sanity, Kalina's temper (not to mention well-being), and the cats as hostages.

Due to poor Kalina's confusion (or is it mine?), our days are a lot of give and take. The toddler doesn't want me to cook dinner? Then we'll take a story break every five minutes. I don't want Kalina to disassemble a cheese display in the grocery store? Then I show her how much more fun it'd be to roar at a large stuffed bear an aisle over. I'd rather Kalina not dragging a sopping wet washcloth from her bath around the house? I trade her for a dry one before she knows who's got the better end of the deal. And we manage to compromise through the days together. Kalina does a good job of making sure I keep the balance fair, at least in her direction.

Sometimes there's no room for negotiation, and during these times I have exactly 1/8th of a second to decide whether I'm going to allow what Kalina wants me to allow, and how I'm going to handle the situation if I say no. Do I say an outright "no" and risk/guarantee a mini-tantrum (Kalina doesn't have full-blown ones yet)? Do I use distraction? If so, what with? And blip, my 1/8th of a second is over.

There are tricks of the trade, though. For instance, a recent mealtime showed Kalina a direct correlation between eating mashed potatoes and getting to see the cuckoo pop out of the cuckoo clock. That works great--once. The next day at lunch, I had to inform Kalina that only Daddy can operate the clock. He's also, incidentally, the only one who can push Kalina around in a laundry basket or her toy car. Mommy regrettably doesn't know how, and can't possibly learn. Besides, then Daddy gets to be the hero later on--that is, if Kalina even remembers that she was supposed to "ask Daddy later" (she rarely does).

And then there are the phrases "later," "not right now," and "in a minute." Despite the fact that I don't know off-hand what a "flrah" is, Kalina knows that these phrases mean: "no, but I reserve the right to reverse my decision later without you chalking it up to me being inconsistent and weak-willed." And I follow through whenever it makes sense to (because I never use these phrases if they're not actually possible or advisable to fulfill).

Neither Kalina nor I is afraid of saying no. Well, actually, I'm terrified of it but I try to hide my fear, and so far Kalina has fallen for it. The ironic thing is that the girl likes order in the house, even reprimanding me once with a large frown and furrowed brow for wearing shoes indoors. [They were boots, actually, and at first I thought she was criticizing my taste.] Therefore, we create a lot of new rules to accompany the word "no". "No putting your toothbrush in the trash can," and "No climbing into the dishwasher." This goes over surprisingly well, and word has it that the Olympics are adding Rule-Making-On-The-Fly as a new winter sport.

Kalina, then, has rules of her own. "No pasta for lunch!" she shakes her head vehemently, with cute little "nononos". "Raisins for lunch!" she decides. New rule. Often, I let her win because her rules generally aren't all that bad.

It's taken me a long time to realize that my rules don't have to pass the scrutiny of a hired lawyer for them to convince Kalina. For instance, we have our little routines that help us get through the day. If Kalina truly pressed the issue, I don't know if I'd have a good explanation for why we always have to get fully dressed right after the diaper change that's always right after breakfast, except for the fact that she'll need to get dressed sometime and the longer we wait, the more of a fuss it's probably going to be. How do you explain that to a 17-month-old? You don't, you create a new rule. "No playing until your socks are on," or, if we're being positive today, "You can play when your socks are on!" And that wonderful little rule becomes a habit, and then one day she'll frown at you because you're asking her to run along and play and her socks aren't on yet.

Fortunately, my career has been in advertising, so I'm pretty good at coming out ahead on a lot of our negotiations. "You don't want to play with Mommy's silly old camera that she accidentally within your reach," I convince her. "Here's a bright, shiny spoon instead. Look, you can see your reflection!" And she totally takes the bait--although I think she's wising up and I may have to change tactics lest she grow up thinking I'm uncool enough to really believe a spoon is cooler than a digital camera.

Kalina, for her part, has a career in cuteness and has been known to win the right to stuff Lamby into the bread machine simply by giggling. I call that fair, wouldn't you?

Decking the halls with Kalina

Christmas must be a magical time of the year for toddlers. Songs sung by Mommy switch from "The Wheels on the Bus" to "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer", toys get bought but not played with yet and trees mystically appear in the living room after naptime.

Kalina takes it all in stride. Yesterday she cheerfully accompanied Matt and I to a Christmas tree farm to pick out our living room's latest and greenest fixture.

We pulled into the lot and unloaded Kalina from her seat. While she took note of the farm dog, we saw that the farm sold both cut trees (mostly pricey Frasier Firs from the mountains, and a few pine) and choose-and-cut trees. Wanting to make the most of our trip and wear our toddler out for her naptime later, we chose to wander the fields of cut-your-own trees. The muddy fields. The "I guess I'll never try to dress these shoes up ever again" muddy fields.

Despite the mud, we found that Christmas tree farms make wonderful places for toddler hide-and-seek--which is right up Kalina's alley. As long as I didn't go more than 20 feet away and stayed primarily within sight, she was happy to play it with me.

Although many of the trees wore blue tags, which designated them as reduced-price Charlie Brown trees, we found many nice ones. Agonizing over the decision for a good half an hour (really? should we cut our own? these are pretty nice. it doesn't have to be perfect. really? how about this one? or that one? this one is great as long as you look at it from this angle. that would be perfect if it were a foot shorter. could we cut it? no, we'd lose too much foliage. really?), we finally left the decision up to Kalina and set her loose.

She headed straight for a stump and wouldn't budge.

That and the fact that lunchtime and naptime were approaching convinced us that maybe we'd better head back to the pre-cut trees, thus chalking our field expedition up to unproductive fun.

Back at the lot, we were faced with about five minutes to make a decision, a poopy diaper, and dried-out wipes, so we decided to divide and conquer. I settled on a nice white pine tree while Matt tried to find a space in my crowded car to change the diaper, and then I changed the diaper while Matt gave the tree, which he could only hope was the right one (second from the left, right?), a thumbs-up and paid for it.

So much for a magical picture of my little girl "choosing" the tree. So much for spending more than two minutes making sure the trunk wasn't crooked, the needles weren't brown or the height wouldn't be a problem. Fortunately, the magic of Christmas smiled on us and it's quite a pretty tree.

We set it up in the living room during Kalina's nap, curious to see how she'd take the new addition.

To our slight disappointment, she gave it about as much notice as she does the stock market.

Does this mean she thinks we're always doing crazy things like dragging live trees into our living room? Have such things become commonplace?

After supper, we all decorated the tree to Christmas music. Christmas decorations can be no end of fun to a toddler, but only if you don't mind having them end up shattered on the floor (yes, one did).

Fortunately, though, some were toddler-proof and produced far more delight than the tree itself. The beads were a big hit. Kalina:
1. Scooped them up in her hands
2. Pulled a string of them around the house
3. Watched as I pulled the string around and the cat followed
4. Put them around her waist, wrists and shoulders
5. Pulled the string around for the cat to follow
6. Tried to "deck the cat" with them
7. Watched as Daddy made waves with them on the floor
8. Made waves with them on the floor

Not bad, and a physics lesson to boot.

The other big hit was the nativity scene. Utterly engrossed for several minutes, baa-ing occasionally, Kalina allowed several sheep, the dog and Baby Jesus inhabit the stable. What is she trying to tell us?

I started telling her about Baby Jesus, and Mary and Joseph, but the story got complicated pretty fast. "Where do the sheep come in?" Kalina wanted to know.

We narrowly finished decorating before bedtime--in fact some of the ornaments got veritably tossed onto the tree. Yes, Kalina helped, but she's better at finding a spot for an ornament than actually hooking it on.

And yes, she's mostly avoided climbing the tree, pulling it over onto herself, pulling any of the ornaments off or tasting the it, as far as we've seen. And, based on her Christmas music dance moves and affinity for cooled hot chocolate, I'm considering her an expert at seasonal merrymaking. Carry on, my Christmas Cutie.

Kalina's Thankful List

Hi everyone, this is Kalina writing. I thought that in honor of Thanksgiving I'd let you all know what I'm most thankful for now.

1. Turkey. Nothing else was really worth eating on Thanksgiving Day, despite my family's enthusiastic exclamations to the contrary. I just ended up eating a lot of turkey.

2. Family. It's nice having more people to play with, even if it's only in 2-minute spurts between time in Mommy's arms because I'm so overstimulated.

3. Shoes. Without them, Mommy says I can't go outside, and I love going outside. Good thing I have shoes.

4. Cats. It's always nice to have a cat around. In fact, "cat" is always my first word after every nap. I just like to keep track of them--know where they are at all times and what they're doing.

5. Trash. The stuff is just fascinating right now. Not sure why. I can say the word, and I know which objects generally constitute trash, whether they're tiny rocks that get dragged in from outdoors or the plethora of paper towels Mommy seems to use every time I have a meal. I like visiting our outdoor garbage cans, but can't quite understand why Mommy won't let me look in the other garbage cans on our street. Mean-spirited, if you ask me.

6. Lamby. For use as a battering ram, personal shield, best friend, pillow, napkin, sidekick, mop, personal fan club president, chair, teether, Mommy substitute, food taster, entertainer, step stool and comforter.

Photos:
1. Ready to eat! Aunt Nancy got me my own plate, fork and spoon. Not sure why no one else's plate looked like a bear.
2. Fortunately, I take after the Odegaard side and don't squint/blink in every photo. :)
3. Look, I learned how to do a shape sorter! Squares and circles are my favorites.
4. Relaxing with Mommy and Poky. We all deserved a break.

Video: My indoor slide that Daddy got out of the crawl space. Mountain Lion enjoyed it too, I'm pretty sure.

A day with Daddy

What an exciting day! With a whole day off in the middle of the week, Matt promised Kalina a day of fun. Despite the tropical storm coming through.

It started with Kalina and I sleeping in until 7:00 and Matt sleeping in until 8:00. They were out the door by 8:45, on their way to play at the mall. The diaper bag contained a diaper or two (one of them a rather wimpy cloth diaper, the other one of our very last disposables), two baggies of stale cereal and a granola bar, plus half a cup of milk. Since they were only going to be gone an hour.

[I threw in a load of laundry, tidied up and sprinted to the couch with a mug of steamy hot cocoa for a little downtime.]

Kalina's friend Edward happened to be at the mall with his mom. What fun--especially for Kalina, who loves to mooch off of Edward's awesome snacks, which this time included a delicious orange. (Thanks, Sarah!!!) Kids played, parents talked, and the H1N1 vaccine came up, as did the fact that there was a free swine flu vaccine clinic today. Even better, as the pediatrician is perpetually out! Matt called, I looked up the directions to the local Armory, and Matt and Kalina went directly on their way.

This is where our luck peaked for the day.

Several phone calls later, with Matt's cell battery running low, he found a sign on the door that said the vaccinations are in the other armory. Because every small- to mid-sized city should have two armories. Apparently, one is used for banquets. Which makes as much sense as using the other one for vaccinations, but I digress.

Without cell phone power to thoroughly discuss the fact that he was a bit low on diapers, food, drink and baby patience since naptime was approaching, Matt made the trek to the north part of the city (we live on the south part).

[I showered, tackled a cleaning/storage/organization project, worried about the diaper/food/drink/nap situation/cell phone battery situation, and accepted a freelance assignment.]

Matt was greeted at the armory by hoards, of which he was number 887. The downside (one of many) was that Matt had to wait outside in the rain with the baby for 45 minutes before even entering the building. The upside (yes, only one) was that I'd thoughtfully/thoughtlessly left an umbrella in the car after a rainy outing yesterday. Fortunately, the umbrella's feminine flowers didn't hinder its weatherproofing capabilities, and so Matt managed to remain mostly dry, if not slightly embarrassed. Kalina was cozily bundled under Matt's roomy raincoat, with only one leg left sticking out, and that only occasionally.

[I called to see how they were doing. They were not doing well. I fretted for much of the next hour and a half. About the food/diaper/milk/nap/cell phone battery/hoards/what-if-she-catches-something-worse-than-swine-flu/rain situation and about the fact that her fun day with Daddy was virtually ruined. At 12:15, it was officially the longest I'd been away from Kalina since I became pregnant more than two years ago. I accepted another freelance assignment and focused on it for a good 10 minutes.]

Once they got into the building, Kalina dozed for about half an hour while Matt moved about a step every five minutes in line. A kind soul held the diaper bag for Matt, while Matt entertained her eight-year-old and held Kalina, who wanted to be put onto the ground about as much as she wanted the vaccine.

Two and a half hours into this adventure (timed from arrival at Armory #2), Kalina received her vaccine, thus making the trip worth it. She giggled with relief when, afterward, Matt produced one of the aforementioned baggies of stale Cheerios. Poor girl, they're stale!

[After my relief at hearing the news that Kalina had her vaccine and was, in fact, okay, I decided that since the day was miserable anyway (because yes, it had been miserable for me, too, with all that worrying) the house might as well be clean, and I attacked the floors, cobwebs and bathtubs with the type of gusto that can only come from a mom's nervous energy. I told Matt where he might be able to find clean diapers throughout the car, and thanked him for the fact that I wasn't the one standing in the rain with the baby.]

Determined that Matt and Kalina should still have a nice day, I asked my dad, who lives in the vicinity of Armory #2, as well as in the vicinity of the museum Matt and Kalina were initially planning to visit in the afternoon, to feed them so they could carry on with festivities as if they hadn't waited in the rain among hoards for hours on end without much food or clean diapers only to be stuck with a needle at the end of it.

He happily obliged, and Kalina ate him out of house and home (not to mention Matt, I would imagine, but I'm not used to inquiring after his appetite). However, basically napless, the girl was giddy with overstimulation and Matt called the museum trip off. They did, however, play with the toys at Grandpa's house for quite a while before trekking back home, Kalina chattering all the way rather than dozing like she should've.

Albeit way past naptime, I decided Kalina was still a bit too giddy for her own good and experimentally put her down for a rest. This, in itself, proved how far we'd come in just a few months. I told her she could either sleep or play quietly--in the dark (bwahaha!). Fortunately, there were no shrieks: only silence as the girl, apparently, chose to sleep.

Matt poignantly remarked as we were convalescing later over dinner that Kalina didn't seem to have a rotten day. It started and ended with play, and had her being held for 2 1/2 hours straight--something she rarely tires of.

I guess he's right. Too bad Matt and I are so hard to please.

Kalina, by the way, will need a booster shot in about a month.

Photo: Matt and Kalina fishing. Where does the fish go, Kalina? Back to the lake! And so it did. Catch another one, Daddy!

Pretty in pink in the fall

On the first brisk day of fall, I put Kalina in a slightly small t-shirt, pants that I'd bought on clearance from Target months before and a jacket, the sleeves of which were 3/4 length because it was size 3-6 months (admittedly, a large 3-6 months). I squeezed her feet into 6-12-month socks. In this way, she kept fairly warm, but she was probably about as comfortable as she was fashionable.

The next day, we received a nice, warm outfit in the mail from snowy Minnesota where, fortunately, her grandparents live and have access to cold-weather clothing a good month before I do.

And so we eeked by until temperatures topped 70 degrees again.

However, my inner drive to see my child both cute and warm had been ignited, and I rushed out to see what I could find for her fall/winter/early spring wardrobe.

This season, I had only 1 or two items already in place: the rest, I'd need to buy unless I wanted to do daily loads of laundry (besides diapers, that is). I was up to the challenge, and Kalina was a good sport.

The challenge, by the way, was this: outfit Kalina for cold weather on a budget without making her look like a ragamuffin. Bonus challenge: Kalina traditionally changes sizes mid-season, so my goal was to equip her with clothing that would look only slightly large in November and only be slightly small in March, by shopping for the right brands and fits and line-drying pants so they don't shrink in the dryer and fit her tall frame for longer.

Pajamas, by the way, should come in varying degrees of warmth, and should come in pairs so that even if one set of a particular warmth level gets dirty, another one would be readily available. Because we certainly don't want the baby waking up for being cold.

My strategy was this: buy a few nice outfits on consignment. Buy everyday essentials to mix and match at big-box, value-priced retailers and buy pretty much anything that fits and is useful if it's less than $3 and in good condition. Sew her a dress. When in doubt, get pink, because it's pretty easy to match and suits her complexion, and neither of us is quite tired of it yet.

The result: Kalina only looks like a ragamuffin every other day.

Maybe the toughest part about shopping for clothes for Kalina is that I usually bring her, and/or Matt along. They have about the same level of patience for clothes shopping (it's ironic, however, that Kalina has far more patience for activities like picking up leaves by only their stems from off the ground, or reading Curious George books over and over and over, than I do). Sometimes I bring snacks for Kalina, sometimes I shoo them away to entertain each other. Whatever I do, I usually end up with about 5 minutes to scope an entire department and decide what/whether to buy, based on price, matchiness, suitability and sizing.

Adding to the fun is the fact that, like women's clothing brands, all children's clothing brands fit differently. Probably especially little girl clothing brands, to prepare them for womanhood. Despite woman's emancipation from subservient roles and mindless careers, we still can't conquer this one for ourselves. Sorry, Kalina, but maybe your generation will have to take this, the toughest challenge of them all, on.

We've admittedly had some luck with the buy-and-return game. I never wanted to be this type of shopper, but considering Kalina still gets slightly claustrophobic in dressing rooms, I don't always have much choice.

Thus, I've determined that it's not really my fault if Kalina's pinks don't always match, or that she only has one purple shirt to go with her blue-and-purple pants, so if it gets dirty she's out of luck with purple until laundry day, or that a few pants have to be cuffed and sometimes safety pinned if she wears a disposable diaper instead of a fluffy cloth one. Poor girl.

Nevertheless, Kalina's closet is now cheerfully full of clothing in multiple shades of pink, as well as a couple other colors. Many of them match. She also has plenty of fitting socks, about three pairs of which actually stay on her feet with any regularity. She has dresses and several pairs of tights, because no child of mine is going to church in pants when it's such a nice excuse to put her in a cute dress. And she has jackets of varying degrees of warmth, from the consignment sale snowsuit, coat and hooded sweatshirt to the 6-month water-resistant jacket from last year, to the free garage sale fleece jacket, which is turning out to be a really good deal.

Now, still a month and a half away from winter, Kalina is already outgrowing a couple pairs of pants. Do I start over or buy longer socks?

Photo: Notice the careful matching of pinks in this cobbled-together, early fall outfit.

Halloween 2009 picture post: The pink kitty

As it turns out, Halloween is even more fun with a pink kitty than with a flower (see last year's post). Probably because the pink kitty this year was old enough to go to costume playdates and trick-or-treat.

Good-natured Kalina didn't even seem to mind the eared hood she had to wear to complete her look, nor did the fact that Halloween was 80 degrees and humid keep her from being cheerful in her cozy fleece outfit. What a trooper.

The holiday started with a costume playdate on October 30. This was more for the moms: we wanted to get our money's worth for the costumes, and watch other toddlers we know wander around in various states of costumed-ness (costumes got dismantled as the playdate wore on). Cute overload.

On Halloween, Kalina hosted a family party and visited a few people in the neighborhood we know. (We don't feel comfortable having her visit people we don't know until she can at least say trick-or-treat--otherwise, it's far too obvious that we'll be gobbling up her candy while telling the child she can't eat it because it's made of styrofoam. True story.).

Fortunately, Kalina has learned how to knock on doors and ring doorbells. She could also politely choose one piece of candy from a bowl and place it into her pumpkin. What fun.

Of course, her treats weren't without tricks--she proudly, if not shyly, meowed and purred for our friends and neighbors, having been taught how to do so by our cats.


Photos and video: 1. Kalina. 2. Kalina and Daddy. 3. Kalina and Mommy and Daddy. 4. Kalina at the playdate as all the kids miraculously sit still (this photo took about 10-15 minutes to get. You can probably still see the tears on Kalina's and the green pea's cheeks). 5. Kalina petting the doggy (her friend Evan), in another hard-to-get shot. 6. What's a kitty without her tail? 7. Kalina and Mommy. 8. Uncle Tom "Tom Hanks," Aunt Nancy and Poky the fisherdog. Video: She meows! She purrs!

Kalina's inner circle of free babysitting

As the first grandchild on both sides of the family, Kalina's a pretty big deal--and has been since she was about the size of a lentil.

So much so, that one side of the family has migrated the the area to be closer to her (and, possibly for warmer weather as well, and other reasons, but these don't matter to Kalina) and the other visits regularly.

To keep it straight, we now have Grandpa Tom and Aunt Nancy in town, as well as Uncle Tom. Grandma visited recently. And Cousin Poky-Dog is here as well.

With this bolus of family comes the offer of free babysitting. And it always leaves me mystified.

What? You want to sit and play with the baby? While I go do something else? Maybe even something fun? You want to? Hmmm. Let's go over this again.

Not that I don't enjoy playing with my child--I do. But I have to like to play with her--I'm her mommy. The same mommy who will always take her side in a schoolyard dispute, even if she started it (the other kid looked at her funny) and tell her that her purple plaid pants look just adorable with her red striped shirt--because they will, Mommy says so.

And not that Kalina's not a sweet child to play with. I guess it's just that after 16 months of being held captive by my little girl, I'm not quite used to being allowed out into the real world again.

Not that I never have free time. I have it every evening, and most naptimes. When I'm not freelancing, I get to watch old videos of Kalina, stare at pictures of her, or even go shopping for her if Matt's kind enough to stay home. Or I can blog. So, I'm not exactly deprived of time to myself.

I can even understand offering to babysit while Kalina's asleep, and Matt and I have had some nice babysitting exchanges with friends that have provided us a date night or two.

Then why is it so astounding to me that family would want to babysit Kalina? Is this a sign that taking care of my child has become too much of a chore? After all, I'd be equally astounded if someone enthusiastically offered to sweep my floors or dust up my cobwebs. And I wouldn't let them: "This is my dirt--I can wrangle it myself. Now you go and enjoy yourself," I'd tell them. If I had enough energy, and if I wasn't wrangling Kalina too much to protest.

Besides, what if Kalina needed me, as she surely would? Nobody can take care of her like Mommy can. What's that? They might take care of her differently but just as well? Hogwash.

Fortunately, Kalina likes her extended family. She's not entirely relaxed around them yet, though. A hospitable little hostess, she jumps up to show them her new tricks every time they visit. "Look, I can stick out my tongue!" she exclaims proudly. "And that beep? That's the microwave! It's over here, and now we open the door to see what's inside," she happily explains.

Even better, I can occasionally leave the room, focus on something else, or, if the stars align, leave the house without the child pitter-pattering after me in hysterics (this works especially well during naptime).

But not everyone is welcomed immediately with open arms into Kalina's inner circle. It takes persistence, dedication and, in the event of Aunt Nancy, a voice that sounds comfortingly like Mommy's. Grandma, for instance, needs to be around for about a day before Kalina curls up in her lap for a story (not bad considering Kalina sees her only about 4 times a year). Aunt Nancy is cool as long as we see her every few days. Grandpa Tom is instantly popular out of doors, and fun to entertain indoors as long as he doesn't make any sudden moves to pick her up. Uncle Tom is still a bit scary for now, albeit hilarious at times. Poky Dog is greeted immediately, given the best seat in the house and as many Cheerios as Kalina can sneak away.

It may take me a while to get used to this whole free babysitting thing. And Kalina, too. Soon enough, though, I'll learn that being away for a few hours every now and then is good for my psyche, not to mention my career. Kalina, for her part, will learn that her world can stay intact even if Mommy is not sharing the same roof with her at the time. And probably, eventually, that she can get more candy out of the people not responsible for her dental bills.

Kalina by the sea

As a reward for having developed relatively mature sleep patterns and sticking with them long enough for us to feel rested, we recently decided to take Kalina on a beach vacation. Matt also considered it a reward for being smart enough to break free of the endless loop of subjectivity known as grad school, and I'm considering it a reward for raising my child thus far with no childcare whatsoever and earning a good amount of money at the same time while not completely ignoring the cleanliness of my house, the family's nutrition, friends, extended family or even my own well-being. Either way, the mood was celebratory.

We left at naptime to make the drive easier. Up until naptime, we were still remembering things we'd forgotten to pack and taking turns dashing back and forth between the car and the house until we ran out of things to remember, at least temporarily.

Our first stop was a historic site near the coast, which conveniently appeared not long after Kalina had had her nap and her snack and was getting rather bored. The site was an outdoor trail that wandered through the ruins of a town that had been established well before the American Revolution. We all liked it--I'm a history buff, Kalina enjoyed gathering handfuls of acorns and rocks and Matt found several large bugs.

We moved on, and after several mis-stops trying to find dinner, we arrived at the hotel. We couldn't wait for the big "reveal"--the moment when Kalina would see the ocean for the first time.

She spotted it, rather unromantically, through the hotel window as Matt was out unloading the car. Fortunately, she was having too much fun bouncing on the bed to do anything but occasionally stare open-mouthed, silently pointing in awe. And then start bouncing again.

We lost no time in making our way to the shoreline as sunset and bedtime were both approaching. As soon as Kalina saw the beach, she worked on flinging herself out of my arms and into it. I quickly gave in, and my child wallowed in the sand for a good 15 minutes before even looking up.

Then Matt handed her a scoop-shaped shell and off she went, scooping sand in varying degrees of wetness, just to see. Unfortunately, she occasionally scooped it into her mouth, just to taste.

We eventually pulled her away from the sand to introduce her to the waves. Kalina, who had moments before thought life couldn't get any better, no doubt viewed the ocean as one giant bathtub and now wanted nothing more than to wander into it. Daddy wouldn't let her.

And then it was back to the sand before we had to carry the girl kicking and screaming back into the hotel for a bath that that rivaled the beach itself for sandiness.

Illicit yappy dog(s) next door notwithstanding, Kalina settled to sleep fairly well. Matt and I settled into the oceanview balcony, which we greatly preferred to hanging out in the bathroom.

The next day dawned about 45 minutes after Kalina did, so we were all on the beach to see it. It was already warm, so we were already playing. Kalina seemed glad that the ocean was still there.

The girl continued to love digging in the sand with various seashells, as well as periodically handing us handfuls of sand (was she hoping we'd stow it away so she could take the beach home with her?), destroying any sand structures we made and venturing into the water. On this second day of beach adventuring, we had a few new highlights:

First, Kalina discovered seagulls, and the chase was on. However, neither being able to outrun nor outfly these birds, Kalina found the game to be a bit one-sided, even in Daddy's arms at a full sprint. Nevertheless, the girl is persistent: we spent a lot of time trotting after them, much to their annoyance and her sheer joy.

And then there was the ill-timed rainstorm. If the beach wedding we'd been watching develop for the past day had started 20 minutes sooner or later, all would've been fine--as it was, the downpour began as we were happily stomping in the waves and the bride and groom were too far into their vows to stop and begin again in their rain location. We sprinted toward the hotel as the wedding party and guests cheered (were they cheering us on or the drenched/happy couple?), but remained in their places. It was only when we were done changing into dry clothes and watching the storm from our balcony that they filed in. For the next little while we all three watched a little too contentedly as they scrambled to find missing items, hauled the equipment in and laughed at their misfortune--the bride, fortunately, laughing most of all. What fun.

And finally, there was the little crab that a fellow beachwalker found around sunset. We've noticed that everyone is nice to you when you have a cute child, and this woman was kind enough to point out a crab that we otherwise would've missed. We hurried over: Kalina loves such things. Unfortunately, so did Daddy, who reasoned that when you grab animals from behind they can't bite you. He was mistaken, however, and next thing he knew he was flinging it a good 10 feet away, I'd shrieked and Kalina was distressed and crying. She calmed down enough after a few minutes to be able to pick up a sea stick and try to poke it a little, just like Daddy does with anything creepy.

I never caught Kalina eating sand on day two of our trip, in case you were wondering. Was she just getting very sneaky at hiding her bites, or had she gotten enough on the first day?

The next day was cold and cloudy. We endured it long enough to take a nice beach walk and shiver in the indoor pool pretending to have fun before we gave up and watched a zebra show on TV while eying the ocean out the window.

I lost count of how many baths Kalina took during the trip, by the way. I wouldn't have worried so much about a little sand--in fact, I didn't worry--but Kalina loves baths, though, so I could indulge my need to have her clean. I also couldn't, personally, imagine napping well while being sandy.

And, to cap off a pretty perfect trip, Kalina slept until we were 10 minutes from home. We will be doing this again next year. Or in a week.

Biggest pumpkin, prize pig and cutest baby

We all went to the state fair this morning! What fun!

Kalina always changes her sleep patterns to celebrate new occasions, and this morning was no exception. We were pleasantly surprised to wake up to Matt's very optimistic alarm clock this morning at 6:45, as opposed to the crying we hear every other morning. To top it off, when Matt went in to get the baby at 7:00 (after all, we wanted to leave for the fair by 7:30 or so), she was neither crying nor sleeping: instead, he found her happily talking to herself in her crib. First. Time. Ever. At 15 1/2 months. Write it on your calendar.

Snacks in tow, we bundled up against the very chilly morning (a perfect day for the fair, to me) and plopped Kalina into her carseat. Not used to being in the car quite so early or eating cold canned beans out of a cup for breakfast (one of her favorites, actually), the girl didn't quite know what to think.

We were greeted by a near-empty parking lot and no lines. We strolled in, thinking we were the smartest people in the world until a woman saw fit to instruct me to put mittens on my child's hands, or else they'll get too cold. 1. Does she know how hard it really is to find a decent pair of mittens in Kalina's size around here? We've been to several stores already. 2. We're aware that it's cold and will take appropriate measures. We sighed and welcomed ourselves to rural North Carolina, where people always say what's on their minds, whether good or bad, and in southern accents, no less.

Our first stop was to point at some geese wandering around a quiet corner of the fairgrounds. Geese being inherently funny, we pointed and laughed and followed for quite a while before moving on.

This early in the morning, most of the buildings and exhibits weren't open. Fortunately, the bunny barn was. We stepped out of the cold and into the fair's cutest exhibit, and Kalina pointed her way through, laughing all the way. "Look, that one's big!" Look, that one has a wiggly nose!" "Look, that one's really fluffy!" And so forth. Bunnies are, apparently, inherently funny as well.

Next, we managed to track down the one mini-donut stand in the entire fair. It's always in the same place and always reasonably priced. Having been guilted into needing to warm my child's hands, I let Kalina hold the warm bag. She gave it a couple of good squeezes before I decided my once-a-year treat was more important than her well-being and snatched it away. I feel like I redeemed myself, however, by letting Kalina have one of the less-sugared donuts.

And then we found a barn that was open for cow showing. A gleeful Kalina pointed us through to the cow that was mooing especially loud. We also passed chicks, goats, piglets and the giant pumpkins, but I think the cows were a clear favorite. Already a decent, if not somewhat soprano, moo-er herself, she learned the word "cow" while we were there. It turns out that all moving animals, not just geese and bunnies, are inherently funny.

We then found the poultry barn, where Matt remembered they let the general public hold baby chicks and ducklings. As much as I desperately wanted a picture of Kalina holding a baby chick (or duckling), Matt reminded me what Kalina had done to the donut bag and I settled on letting Kalina touch one of the chicks while I held it. She seemed satisfied, probably because she didn't know quite what she was missing.

And then we entered an exhibit hall, where we all ogled the prize-winning cakes and cookies and accepted free samples whenever they were offered. We did not get talked into buying the Sham-Wow.

Probably due to lots of new sights, sounds and smells, poor Kalina was admittedly fairly antsy during our fair visit. She never quite decided whether she'd rather be carried or ride in the stroller, and walking, Kalina's transportation of choice, wasn't always the best option for covering large distances among crowds. Fortunately, there were more available distractions than there were struggles, for the most part, so we negotiated our way through fairly well.

Along the midway, we wondered briefly what would happen if we had Kalina play stump the guesser. Could they guess her weight within 3 pounds? Probably. Her age within a year? Definitely. Her birth month within 2 months? Likely. And so we continued on.

With Kalina's patience fading, we decided our last stop would be the petting zoo. Which was really more of a feeding frenzy, as baggies of carrot slices to feed the animals, most of which were goats, were available for merely $1. Cold, wet noses aplenty within easy reach, Kalina was in heaven. Before our entire baggie of carrots got gobbled up by one long-necked goat, she even got to feed a couple of them.

And so we made our way back to the car, still cold, covered with fair dust and all of us a bit overstimulated. Back at home, Kalina had a good laugh at the cats before heading upstairs for a good, long (hopefully) nap.

The family reunion

In the late 1700s, Kalina's great, great, great, great (great? great? I lost track.) grandparents on her mommy's side settled in southern Virginia. They were farmers, as would be pretty much every generation after them until her grandpa's (however, rumor has it that her daddy would love to pick up the tradition someday). At least one became a prominent citizen in the area, while others moved to Nebraska.

Being a Carolina girl herself, Kalina was pleased and proud that her extended family chose to trek all the way from the Midwest and Louisiana to this relatively nearby area of Virginia recently for a family reunion. (The reunion was also celebrating her grandpa's retirement, the highlight of which was a Nebraska/VA Tech football game where the family chose to ignore their true roots and cheer wholeheartedly for Nebraska, but Kalina doesn't tune into such things.)

Kalina was thrilled to meet her great uncle Jim and great Aunt Jo, but not quite thrilled enough to show any interest in being held by them. As they temporarily headed off in a different direction, she piled back into the car with Uncle Tom, Aunt Nancy, cousin Poky (of the four-footed variety), Grandpa and Mommy to tour some of the family landmarks, on what Uncle Tom had mistakenly assured us was a 10-minute drive.

Twenty minutes later after the initial excitement revolving around "the doggy is coming?!? there's a doggy in the car with us!!!" had worn off and we were halfway there, Mommy finally brought out the really cool toys and wish she'd thought to pack more snacks. Fifteen minutes after that, Kalina was at her wit's (do they have one wit or more at this age?) end and letting us know it, and five minutes later we arrived at the cemetery that holds a dozen or so of her ancestors.

Elated to be out of the car, Kalina pretty much just wanted to run around through the grass, but I made her stand still for some pictures. Then, we piled back into the car to drive past the old fireplace foundation that is probably where our ancestors cooked and warmed their hands and yanked their toddlers away from circa 1800, and then we drove back to the hotel. Overall, a very cool little jaunt, antsy baby notwithstanding.

Soon, it was time for dinner, where my antsy baby had used up her "sitting still" capabilities for the day. My cousin and his wife, outnumbered by their four children (two of which were foster children) ages 17 months to 5, pleasantly sat and ate while their kids pleasantly sat and ate. My child was only happy if she was playing "chase" around the room with me or her Aunt Nancy. We left early, and I faced the challenge of putting Kalina to bed in a strange place.

She did better than I thought, and better yet, Daddy had finally arrived. We spent the evening in a dark hotel room trying not to make any noise whatsoever, as Kalina woke up and cried every half hour or so for a while. We gave up the grandiose idea of flipping through cable channels, found the bathroom not too comfy to hang out in, and headed to bed early.

The next day, Kalina decided she didn't like her shoes which are, admittedly a bit stinky. However, we still managed to have a good time. We visited the campground where a lot of Hanks's were staying, took a long nap, snagged a Blizzard at a nearby Dairy Queen (which Kalina refused in favor of Cheerios) and played at a huge park before having to leave Shoney's early due to the fact that Kalina wanted nothing to do with her high chair and only wanted to--you guessed it--play chase around the tables. *sigh* Even after a solid two hours of park play. Mommy skipped dinner that night, as all good mommies must every so often.

The next morning, Kalina finally tolerated the high chair a little better, for a limited time, at Grandpa's official retirement party. And then we played chase around the tables.

The rest of the family reunion was spent back on Kalina's home turf, touring around various sites, enjoying excellent barbecue in Uncle Jim and Aunt Jo's RV, and playing hostess until she was too exhausted to twirl or or cat-whap any longer.



Photos: #1: Family--Uncle Jim, Aunt Jo, Cousin Ed and wife Julie, and their four kids. #2: The very old cemetery where lots of our ancestors are buried.

Video: Kalina the cat trainer, taken about a month ago (we're finally playing catchup with some of our videos--can you tell?)

Life with an easy child

It's probably true that every child is an easy child. If they're fed, entertained, rested, healthy, comfortable, and just in a good mood. For some children this happens once a day; for others, once a year.

Either I've become an expert at catering so completely to Kalina's whims that she can't actually think of anything more she needs, or she's too old to be high-maintenance and too young to be trouble, but it seems that most days are pretty easy for Kalina and I.

This is probably why I haven't been blogging as much lately. It's true: you do need to suffer to write.

I could expand, but it'd probably just bore you. I will say that I'm rather proud of the fact that Kalina happily eats brussels sprouts, takes a long-ish nap more often than not, is increasingly willing to hold my hand in stores rather than run off, and doesn't seem to be bothered in the least by teething, which I think she's been doing lately because there seems to be a new one toward the back of her upper right gum. (Of course, all this will probably change now that I've announced it publicly.)

Kalina does have her occasional difficult moments (like a few days last week when she openly rebelled against high chairs). But at least we're both usually getting the sleep we need to deal with them.

There's not much more to say, so I'll leave you with some of Kalina's words. Most of them can be pronounced using some variation of "ba:" ball, bath, bowl, "baa" (which sheep and lambs say) and "pop" (which is what balloons do). Maybe she's just being resourceful?

At the museum

Sometimes it's nice to take Kalina to places where she doesn't have to behave. Where everything is touchable and some things are the right height. This afternoon was just such a time: tired of telling Kalina "no standing in the cart" or trying to clean with a tornado following in my path, I instead took her to the local science museum.

I would move in to this museum if I could. It's perfect. With live animals, cool things to play with and lots of room to run around, it's the ideal habitat for a toddler. What's more, the outdoor areas are mostly shaded and there's free admission for county residents on Wednesday afternoons. We're regulars.

However, Kalina and I had never gone by ourselves--we'd always had other kids and/or parents along. So I packed a snack, piled toys into the carseat, sang songs half the way up (it's a 20-minute drive--the only downside) and let Kalina take the lead.

First, like always, she greeted the large glass/plastic globe-ish balls that no doubt illustrate the coriolis effect or something else equally irrelevant to Kalina. They're clear across a gallery from each other, so we ran back and forth, squealing with joy, to pat first the blue one and then the white one, and then the blue one again. We spun them and admired their perfectly round beauty. I indulged her and made sure she was content before nudging her on.

Next, we heading into the indoor animal area, in the darkened entry of which lives a small owl (behind glass, of course). Kalina became transfixed when the owl flew from one branch to another. "Agah!" she said, looking at me expectantly ("agah" means "again"). Fortunately, the owl took pity on me and obliged the girl. We wandered through the rest of the exhibit, pointing out snakes, turtles, fish and a woodchuck.

Kalina knows the route through the museum to the play area, and as we took this path she stopped once to exclaim over a shark movie they had playing. She also wanted to sit in a red leather chair, so we did that for a while.

And finally we were at the play area, which Kalina would probably trade me for. Better yet, despite the fact that it was a free Wednesday afternoon, we had the place almost entirely to ourselves. Kalina ran directly for the various ball track toys they have and went to work rolling. Then she showed remarkable balance stacking blocks (it's like she knows the skinny ones don't balance well!), helping me pick them up when we were done. And so forth.

The girl probably could've stayed here the rest of the day, but the weather was too nice and I figured she might need some downtime in the stroller, so I ushered her out the door. We set out to see the farm animals. Kalina now knows how to "baa" at the sheep, so we did that for a little while. She giggled at the bunny, probably because it looked like the stuff it was eating was cilantro. Who knew that's what they like? Kalina was as surprised as I was.

And then we came to the dinosaurs. I don't think Kalina quite knows that they're not real--they're just life-sized statues. She enjoyed climbing on the one you can climb on (its tail was about the right height for her to straddle), but her favorite is the toothy tyrannosaurus rex. You can see it from far down the path, and Kalina always laughs as we approach it. I have to admit, if you didn't know that its teeth are pointy for a reason, you could easily think it's simply finding something uproariously funny. Kalina merely joins in. We strollered around a few others that were also amusing (she especially liked the round dinosaur egg models), stopping at the dig site where kids can try to gather fossils and sharks teeth from seashore gravel.

Kalina found a couple buckets and some big rocks and was in heaven. I even found something that might have been a shark's tooth (that got tossed into the obscurity of gravel by a little boy I gave it to, but, whatever). While Kalina sorted and dumped, I sat down to a well-deserved break and left her uninterrupted. Then I pulled her away from the dinosaurs to take her to see the butterflies.

Which were somewhat disappointing. "Look, Kalina, over here!" I'd exclaim. Twelve seconds later when she'd finally turned her head, the butterfly would be long gone and she'd be frustrated. Fortunately, toward the end we had better luck as one that was either new, or hurt, or tired or just mellow sat and flapped its wings for us for a while.

It was time to start winding our trip down, but we went through the barnyard again on the way back, where Kalina got far more excited by the toy balls the sheep had in their pen to play with than the animals. "Wow, look, Mom, there are more in the next pen, too! Wheel me over there!"

We also stopped at the sound room, where a sort of music is triggered by motion on a floor. It was rather crowded and loud, but Kalina was glued in her spot on the side of the room, like a little wallflower, smiling broadly. Huh. We stayed put a few minutes before heading back to say goodbye to Kalina's old friends, the blue and white glass/plastic balls. See you next time!

Photo: Taken a few months ago, Kalina trying to play with museum blocks that are about half her size/weight. You'll have better luck with the smaller ones, child!

Odegaard Toddler Says First Real Word

Odegaard Toddler Says First Real Word

"Lion," remarked the toddler, marking her very first concept-associated word. "Roar," she softly affirmed next. And only moments later, with one small prompt from Mommy, she firmly said "lamb."

Kalina, resident toddler of the Odegaard household, has officially spoken.

The Odegaard parents claim nothing less than bemusement at their 14-month-old's first speech, which took place mid-morning today to an audience of one: Mommy.

"Really? Lion?" questioned a confused Mommy, who was nevertheless ecstatic that her daughter was finally talking.

The girl has been surrounded by farm animals, cats, dogs, bunnies, blocks, balls, books, and of course Mommy and Daddy since birth, but apparently none of these words could entice her to speak. Neither could the mooing, baaing, barking, meowing, oinking, quacking, hee-hawing, neighing, buzzing, chirping and clucking that regularly accompany storytime in the household.

Kalina's parents both enthusiastically raved about their daughter's accomplishment. "We've always known that Kalina was brilliant," stated Daddy, "but we're still amazed that she's already grasped the lion/lamb concept at such a young age."

However, Mommy has not always been quite so optimistic. "It seemed like she took a really long time to talk," she mentioned. "I guess she just wanted her first words to be profound. Definitely worth the wait."

The toddler had added a bit of confusion to the mix by saying "gah!" quite frequently over the past few months, which sounds much like "cat," according to Mommy. However, Kalina used the word rather indiscriminately, which makes "gah" doubtful as a first word. Officials are still deliberating, but early reports are in favor of lion.

When asked why she chose "Lion" as her first word, Kalina stated that she didn't actually say lion, correcting the reporter's pronunciation. "Lyughn," she said again, leaving her parents to wonder if their child will grow up with a French accent.

The lion in question lives in a library book picked up on Monday. It's bright yellow, with a bright orange mane and a smiling mouth. The mommy-toddler pair had read the book just once before Mommy suspected the girl was starting to catch on to the word. Mommy recalled working on roaring, and also on "lamb," because of the proximity of Lamby (Kalina's stuffed companion) at the time.

This morning, Mommy picked up the book and flipped it to the lion page, asking Kalina what the animal was. The toddler stated "lion," without prompting, followed by an unprompted miniature roar. The word lamb was then extracted from the toddler with only minimal effort on Mommy's part, thanks again to the proximity of Lamby.

"We could tell Kalina has been working on words for the past few weeks," said Mommy. "Her favorite toy nowadays is a nursery rhyme book that she likes to stand on as we read. She's also working on balancing."

A few successive attempts to get Kalina to repeat her first word were successful, however the girl was more likely to roar instead.