Anatomy with Professor Teagan

I've been doing a lot of laying around lately. Which means Teagan's been asking a lot of questions about the various parts of my body that are bulging and growing - my belly, my chest...my arms. They're all expanding at an alarming rate. 

So we've been talking a lot about our bodies and the way she says "body" absolutely cracks me up. We coerced her into an increasingly rare recording session, asking her about her "body". Unfortunately, we missed the part where she showed us her "elmos" and she corrected herself in the video and showed us her elbows. It's a short video, but her knowledge of the G-rate body parts is fairly extensive. Due in part to the fact that her father is a physical therapist, but mostly thanks to "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" sung repeatedly. 

The Taquito Tower gets mixed reviews.

Brandon's ingenious idea to employ the Lincoln Log technique to help the taquitos cool faster was lost on our offspring. She took it to mean:

"I have to eat the whole thing?!"

How NOT to get invited to birthday parties.

You can start by losing track of your 2 1/2 year old and get nudged by someone asking if you know where your daughter is. Then you can find her having pulled a stool over to the counter and strategically licking the frosting off the birthday girl's cake. Fortunately, this particular birthday girl was incredibly forgiving and she and the host (my great friend who Teagan LOVES) egged her on while recording the whole thing.

I suppose it would be funny if the out-of-control pint-sized hooligan isn't yours.

She's going to make us big bucks.

Teagan's a creative one, to be sure. She's always coming up with new ways to use things and most of them are decidedly weird. Every time she comes down the stairs and turns the corner, I never know what she's going to be wearing or holding or doing. She often comes down after failed attempts to get herself dressed and, admitting defeat, requests help.

Recently she came down the stairs and came up with an idea. A built-in sippy cup. She told me she was keeping it in her "pocket" (the space between one's chest and one's shirt). This space seems to be underutilized and Teagan's campaigning to use it to its full potential. We're always preaching hydration here in Vegas, so I was very proud of my baby for making it that much easier. Look out world, she's going to make us millions!

Piggies Pretty in Pink

I've always thought it adorable to see little girls toddling around with brightly painted toenails. Adorable for them. I couldn't picture my little girl sitting still long enough to paint her pinky toe. Instead, I envisioned squirming, smearing, screaming and a whole lot of permanent stains on my carpet. none of which I was prepared to deal with. Then came another Saturday with Brandon at work and I found myself in need of an activity to occupy some of our time and decided to bite the bullet. I need to give her more credit. She loved it! She sat still when I asked her, she counted her toes as I painted them and asked me to "match other toes" when I'd finished the first foot. It was darling. I'm sure we'll do it again. Maybe not with so much fanfare, but a first is a first.

 

Buttah balls.

While I'd say my attempt to have Teagan prove helpful in the kitchen was a failure of epic proportions, I did succeed in proving once again that she's mine. Can't resist a good blob 'o' butter (or margarine, in this case.) I mustered all my creativity to facilitate her "helping" me in the kitchen and had her painting margarine on the bottom of a pan to grease it. It took a wrong turn into her mouth and I shut the operation down shortly after snapping a couple of priceless photos.

 

Fortunately, this was the second of two cakes - the first of which was intended for our Young Men's Camp Fundraiser Dessert Auction at church that evening. The second, I made because, well, how do you make a devil's food cake infused with caramel and sweetened condensed milk, topped with whipped cream, more caramel and toffee bits and not make one for yourself? Particularly when pregnant. I couldn't. And as someone not well known for baking, I was shocked when my cake sold for $25 - the highest big for a homemade item. I'm still in shock. And a diabetic coma.

"You're going to be a big sister."

The range of emotions that followed:

Okay, so I didn't take these immediately after breaking the news to her, but she certainly has gone through these and more since we dropped the bomb. From Grumpy to Happy to just plain Dopey, most days I feel like I'm living with all 7 dwarves instead of just the one.

She seems very aware of the fact that I'm carrying a baby in my tummy and it's darling. Since we told her, she insists that we be "cayful Mummy's tummy!" If you ask her where the baby is, she'll tell you it's in Mummy's belly. Ask her what's in Mummy's belly, she'll tell you it's a baby. Ask her if she wants a brother or sister and she'll want whichever you say last. She's flexible like that.
She's also on the alert for stinky diapers. Mr. Potato Head was the culprit the other day and she took great care of the situation.

She's shaping up to be a wonderful big sister and we're so excited to see it happen.