She Dances Each Wednesday...

In A Studio Beneath A Sign That Reads:

Dance in the Direction of Your Dreams.

Of course she does.

The First French Braid.

Of many braids.
*I hope*

Thanks for an especially delicious day sweet Nonie.
I loved most, our leisurely stroll.

I love counting on you to bring me joy.
Because, you always do.

See Nonie.

See Nonie run into the library. Run Nonie. Run.

See Nonie dip magnets from the fridge into her yogurt.

See Nonie go potty.

See Nonie wear Daddy's shoes.

See Nonie finger paint. With peanut butter and milk.

See Nonie chew on her hair ties a minute after Mommy does her hair.

See Nonie crawl into the fridge to try to reach the grapes.

See Nonie cuddle with a dog. Cuddle Nonie. Cuddle.

See Nonie touch everything in the house. Twice. In one hour.

See Nonie pull Mommy's flowers out of the flower boxes on the front porch.

See Nonie get doted on by her babysitter.

See Nonie get spoiled by her babysitter.

See Nonie sit perfectly for hair dos with her babysitter.

See Nonie with 4 cute pigtails in her hair.

See Nonie with lovely french braids.

See Nonie get her nails done by her babysitter.

See Nonie get her nails done by her babysitter even though Nonie's Mommy has hidden all the nail polish in the house.

See Nonie with bright red nails.

See Nonie with pink nails and white flower embellishments.

See Nonie with her nails done for the third consecutive week.

See Nonie with a french manicure.

Hello 911? Nonie here...

Hello 911?

(Wow, that was easy.)

Nonie here. Just calling to say that Mama is weeding and Dec is on his bike.

*

Hi. Hi. 911. That you?

Nonie again.

Dec fell and Mama just told him to slow down and that he is NOT ALLOWED to cycle through the swings.

*

Beep Beep Beep.

Me again. Hey, thanks for listening.

I'm thirsty.

Do you think I should climb the back stairs all by myself?

Or try to take a sip from Mama's seltzer bottle? I got a few steps up and the bottle caught my eye.

Just not sure I can unscrew this ca...

Mama is telling me not to climb stairs with things in my hands... gotta jump.

*

(What were those numbers again? 912? No wait, 911... Here they are.)

Hi. So, here's the update:

Dec is now digging in the sandbox. Mama is gathering sticks and throwing them into the forest.

This phone stuff is really great, huh?

What is this button for?

(Click.)

**********

4 times.

911.

4 times in 10 minutes.

I just thought she was being cute playing with the seltzer bottle and the phone.

Until...

***********

Hello? This is the Police calling to make sure everything is okay. YOUR CHILD has been calling 911 repeatedly and we need to make sure everything is okay. Can you verify your name, address.....

***********

Hi is Nonie there?

Oh Nonie. You are SOOOOO SO naughty.

And so advanced!

I love you.

Mama.

Click.

***********

Just a little Diddy I came up with all by myself.

Hush little Nonie don't say a word.

Mama's gonna buy you a pretty bird.

And if that pretty bird don't sing.

Mama's gonna buy you a platinum ring.

And if that shiny ring don't shine (?).

Mama's gonna pick you a clementine.

And if that clementine tastes sour.

Mama's gonna grow you a big sunflower.

So hush little Nonie don't say a thing.

Your Mama loves you and she knows everything...

Sleep Nonie Sleep.

Sweet Nonie has graduated from crib to bed. 1/2 a bed actually, but more on that later.

Ever since the bed migration (3 nights ago), I've had the distinct honor of lying with her until she falls asleep. A bad habit, I'm the first to admit it. But given that Sweet Nonie no longer drinks from the yellow bottle that was an extension of her right hand for 8 months straight - I'm betting we'll be able to nip this habit too.

Tossing and turning doesn't really come close to describing what Nonie does before falling asleep. I'm amazed and intrigued.

I thought I knew her. But now I'm not so sure.

She thrashes about. Blanket surfing. Kicks my chin. Bangs her head on the bed.

Over and over and over.

But always, when in need of a break from the antics, she'll find me.

In the dark she'll give my inner arm a quick swipe. Or she'll swing her head close to mine and breathe milk breath into my face. Sometimes, once she's made contact she'll let out a squeal. Her actions are fleeting and make me realize how primitive humans are. She's comforted by the closeness and senses when I've moved a mere inches away. Mother monkey.

Tonight, despite how cute she was - I contemplated giving up. Could she be nocturnal? I wondered.

But then she found her nose. And her nose seemed to calm her (picking it). Suddenly, she's occupied - pinching into her nose with her thumb. She gets into a routine. Pick. Roll around. Pick. Roll around. Pick. Pick. Roll all around. Pick.

Pick pick pick.

Then in an instant she's doing this...

...and I have wet boogers on my cheek.

I see you Nonie.

I see you following your big bro' into school.

I see you sitting on your pretty new stool.

I see you swinging in the breeze.

I see you working with your Granny Tess.

I see you searching for fish to feed.

I see you seeing them.

I see you making a pinch pot filled with fruit.

I see you Nonie.

You're 18 months old.

You are incredible in every way.

Sometimes I get nervous that these days are passing so quickly - so quickly that I'll miss the good stuff.

But I see it.

And, I see you Nonie.

You are incredible in every way. In every way.

I see you Nonie. And I love what I see.

And the Lady Bug Wins

Tonight I put the kids to bed and climbed into bed myself at 7:07. Friday night. Hubby is at his parent's prepping for a l-o-n-g day of school tomorrow. But, it didn't stick.

Nonie and Dec both bouncin' off the bedsheets come 7:32. Not Tired. I tell Dec to stay put while I take Nonie down for a re-fill. Of the milk variety. While the fridge is open I am reminded that I haven't given her an evening dose of her (much-hated) Amoxicillin (meds for pneumonia). Before I grab the milk jug, I hand her the bottle of meds (to keep her occupied during my 2 second journey to the kitchen counter).

Smart girls as she is, Nonie takes the liquid meds in her tiny hands and without hesitating, walks them to the door below the sink, opens the door and drops the meds in the garbage can. She shuts the door, turns around and clings to my kneecaps in anticipation of her bottle of milk. Tell me what you really think about those meds, Nonie?

Nestled deep within that tiny body and those compelling blue blue eyes - there is a strong-willed woman in there. I love to see glimpses of her. She offers only glimpses and I savor them as I can. For the time being, that strong-willed woman hidden deep within a 17-month old body would much rather play with ladybugs than take her meds.

And I can't blame her.