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.

What to do with a 1-year-old

On Matt's first day of work (yay Matt!) I treated Kalina (and myself, to be perfectly honest) to a trip to the toy store.

I strollered Kalina into the store, and she immediately hooted with excitement, forsaking even the Cheerios I'd put on her tray. I pulled her out of her stroller and unleashed her on the store. She ran directly to the play kitchen, starting to put the Kalina-sized pots and pans away in the Kalina-sized cupboards. I almost whisked her home that same second to put her to work in my kitchen, but she would have none of that. A foolishly hopeful price check told me that we were $200 away from bringing home that little kitchen, so I pried the child away after a few minutes and we continued on.

We were on a mission, in fact, to find the perfect age-appropriate educational toy. We ended up coming home with a wheeled turtle I found on the clearance rack on my way out the door. The picture on the box shows what looks to be a 9-month old, and the age on the box says 18 months. The saleslady assured me it was a great toy, which was all I needed to hear.

I envisioned myself merrily cooking dinner or relaxing with my feet up while Kalina played with her nice, new turtle friend. She'd smile up at me and we'd discuss the latest family gossip or world news. All thanks to the turtle.

Fortunately, Kalina actually does like the turtle, but only if Mommy wheels it around for her. Ten minutes later, we were back to the daily "But I want to cook dinner"-"But I want you to play with me" discussion. Oh well, we tried.

And so we begged the question: what exactly do you do with a 1-year-old?

It's not that she doesn't have toys--it's just that 1-year-olds are a conundrum of sugary sweet, relatively obedient little learners who are not quite old enough to pretend play but have long since figured out how a rattle works. Kalina's a fun girl, but now that we've stacked blocks to our hearts' content and read every story in the house backwards and forwards (not to mentioned wheeled Mr. Turtle around the kitchen a few dozen times), one of us, at least, is ready for something new.

And so I consulted Google (search term: 1-year-old activities). Based on my results, I found there are exactly five activities for 1-year-olds. They are:

1. Stacking blocks
2. Reading books
3. Wheeling things
4. Filling and dumping
5. Scribbling (although many sites warned that most kids this age will simply try to eat the crayons)

And then the authors of these sites sent their kids off to daycare for the day. Alternatively, the authors put their 1-year-olds down for 3-hour-naps and 13-hour nights of sleep. Alternatively, the authors never had children.

Needless to say, I was disappointed that Google couldn't do better than that. Those five activities entertain Kalina for about 8 minutes. What about the other 12 1/2 hours of Kalina's day? Can anyone help me with them?

I suppose the reason we don't ever hear from stay-at-home moms whose active 1-year-olds only sleep 13 total hours in a given day, at most, is because they simply don't have the time. They're too busy trying to think of fun new ways to entertain their children while cleaning up after them all day long.

On the other hand, if Kalina wrote a list of appropriate activities for 1-year-olds, it would look something like this:

1. Eating mulch
2. Pulling all the books off all the shelves, everywhere in the house
3. Rooting through the garbage can
4. Playing with the DVD player
5. Whatever else Mommy can think of, because she thinks of good things.

At which point I would chime in:

1. Bouncing on the bed
2. Puppet shows with stuffed animals
3. Mailing letters
4. The Here's a Random Kitchen Gadget game
5. Cheerios

I asked Matt what he thought, and he noted that most of the good toys seem to be for 18+ month-olds. Too true. But it still leaves me mystified.

So I'll ask you: is there such a thing (besides DVDs) as an activity that can keep a 1-year-old happy for more than 5 minutes? Bonus points if it would allow Mommy to cook dinner. Extra bonus points if it doesn't cost $200. Extra extra bonus points if it's not something we've already done 14 times today.

A mommy confession, or A Short Tale of Two Lambys

When Kalina was just a few hours old, she did this cute little thing where she cried because I wasn't holding her. I knew that was why she cried, because the second I reclaimed her from whoever was holding her in my rather helpless effort to "see if I can do anything," she stopped crying. I was a little bit proud at my mommy superpower.

One year, 1 month and several weeks later, and she's still doing it. Cute then, very loud and disruptive now. (Secretly, I still think it's sweet.)

And that brings me to a confession that's somewhat embarrassing, but I don't think I'll feel better until I get it off my chest. I will probably be scorned by all working parents, and misunderstood by everyone else. But I might as well just get it out in the open, so here goes:

My 13 1/2-month-old has never been babysat while awake by anyone other than her grandma, and then only for short intervals.

And there we have it.

I don't have trust issues. Kalina doesn't have a health condition that requires my or her daddy's full attention at all times. There's no good reason for this except that she has massive stranger anxiety antagonistically blended with separation anxiety, so that if I even look toward the door when I have a friend over Kalina dashes to my side, glues herself to me and takes the deepest breath she can muster to prepare for the scream that would have a banshee running for cover. Her safe, happy little world crumbles, and I can see it in her face and in her eyes.

My friends tell me "Sure, she'll cry a little when you leave her with someone for the first time. But she'll get over it!" I have to politely disagree (as do those who have seen Kalina's stranger anxiety in action). She might get over it, but it'd break a little part of her.

Parenting resources tell me:
1. Have your babysitter come over a few minutes early so that your child can get used to her.
2. Establish a goodbye ritual with your child, so he or she knows you will return.

Once again, their advice belongs to a planet other than that on which I live. Who writes these things?

Those who Understand tell me:
1. Just wait it out; you can run errands on your own once the kid starts school.

I have yet to find a happy medium, other than:
1. Send Daddy to the driving range at least weekly so he'll be willing to babysit on the occasional Saturday.

I might just be lazy. Having had some success a few weeks ago with Matt's parents, I know what would actually work to solve this problem:
1. Find a babysitter willing to come over daily for a week to play with Kalina for several hours while I gradually inch away and eventually leave.
2. Repeat with every person I might ever want to watch Kalina, and in every location I might want Kalina to be watched.
3. At the going rate of $10/hour, shell out approximately $200/week. Also, commit to being 100% available during this time, or at least at home, to ease the transition.

Hmmm, I wonder why I haven't taken this project on yet.

Yes, I'm very embarrassed about this little situation. I'm relieved to know that it's not simply because I'm a stay-at-home mom, though: most of my friends' babies do fine with strangers. And besides, I'm pretty sure Kalina has been this way since birth.

Yes, I know I could just break my child in. She'd cry and get over it and be mostly herself again. Is "but I don't wanna" a good enough reason not to? Do I get to play the mommy card and tell people that they can do what they want with their child, but I'm not going to put my 13 1/2-month-old through that kind of trauma? I think I'd rather pay a babysitter $200 to sit with me in the living room for a week.

Besides, I keep hoping she'll grow out of it or that Lamby and Lamby (her "lovey" and her "lovey's" stunt double) will solve the problem for me by becoming a replacement mommy.

Lamby was introduced when Kalina was about eight months old, and Kalina has attached nicely. The other Lamby was introduced a week or two ago when reality hit that if we ever lost Lamby, we would regret the day we didn't run to Babies R Us to pick up a second one. I lucked out when they had one in stock--the first had been purchased as a gift before Kalina was born. I counted myself lucky to be paying $10.50 for the security that Lamby brought and Kalina counted herself extremely lucky for the split second I let her hold both at once before stashing the first one in the closet so that the second one could achieve the same dinginess I was astonished to find Lamby had. Fortunately, Kalina is still relatively easy to fool (although she's getting less so).

But in the meantime, there are freelance meetings and jury duty (of all things!!!???!?!?!?) to worry about, and Matt starting a new, much less flexible job, so I'm going to have to face this fear of mine/Kalina's sooner rather than later.

At least now it's all out on the table. You can all shake your heads at home about what a terrible mommy I must be for getting myself into this situation and not being willing to do the obvious thing to get myself out of it, and how I'm probably exaggerating (okay, maybe the banshee comment above was a little out of place, but the rest stands) but please avoid judging me in your comments, or even being too reassuring, because I simply won't believe you. *sigh* And if that's the worst thing I'm doing, that's not too bad. Thank you for letting me share.

[As a side note, a friend witnessed Kalina's anxiety firsthand yesterday and agrees with me that it's beyond anything she's ever seen. So I'm not 100% crazy.]

Photo 1: Kalina playing train (except I don't think she actually knows what a train is)
Photo 2: Lamby and Lamby. Lamby was purchased more than a year earlier than Lamby. Can you count the differences? Here's what I found:
1. Lamby's eyes are different than Lamby's.
2. Lamby is considerally whiter than Lamby.
3. Lamby smells better than Lamby

Exuberant, determined ignorance is bliss

We all love babies because of their chubby cheeks and button noses. Beyond that, we love them for their excited, intense, blatant wrongness. What fun it is to watch a brand-new person live the life we're all old pros at. How nice to have someone to laugh at in the name of cuteness, before they're old enough to get their feelings hurt. Do we all love babies because they make us feel better about ourselves?

Take Kalina, for instance. She twirls on command, transfers Daddy's credit cards from his wallet to the towel drawer in the kitchen, and occasionally tries to eat rocks. The girl is clearly not worried about what anyone else thinks.

Even better, Kalina doesn't just nonchalantly mash her beans into her hair--she does it with gusto. The same way she demands the camel puppet never leave Daddy's hand (even when she's done playing with it) and confidently proclaims "BAAWAAABAAAWAAAH" through the entire grocery store.

I laugh, and she joins in, looking sideways to see if Panda and Lamby are laughing too and wondering what the joke is. It's probably a good thing she will only remember these years through the rosy pages of her baby book.

Poor girl. She has to be taught, or learn through osmosis, every teeny tiny morsel of social custom, safety and life skills she needs to thrive in adulthood. We start with figuring out that shoes go on your feet, not in your mouth, and will eventually work on long division (which will unfortunately be much less useful than almost everything she's learned so far, including the fact that elephants go "stomp, stomp.").

And she tries so hard. To haul around household objects that are twice her weight, to remove the refrigerator door from the refrigerator (without proper tools) and to walk up the stairs just like Mommy even though her knees would work much better since she's so short. There's just no telling her, though. Either she doesn't listen, doesn't respect my advice, doesn't understand, or a combination of these.

I suppose it's fair for us all to get a good laugh with Kalina (please, not at her). After all, we each were responsible for similar mirth in our own time. What goes around, comes around, right?

Most importantly, Kalina seems happy in her role. There's nothing she likes better than flopping exuberantly onto every pillow she sees, sneaking wood chips from the playground into her mouth and sucking on them, and rummaging through the recycle bin for new toys. So we'll let her have her fun, and she will, apparently, let us have ours.