Looking Back... Emma is 28 Months Old!

Okay, first off I can't believe I forgot to mention this last month, but Emma now walks down the stairs! Yes, WALKS! On TWO FEET! Like a REAL PERSON!!! Huge milestone and it totally escaped me. She's been walking up the stairs for ages... can't pinpoint exactly when, but again I'm not entirely sure if I made a note of it or not. And I know that when she's 26 and reading all my little notes, she's never gonna forgive me for not knowing if it was in Month 23, Month 24, or hell, even Month 25 that this monumental feat took place. But at least she'll be happy in the knowledge that she is able to walk up AND down the stairs. On her FEET. Oh happy days. Here's hoping that when the inevitable tumble comes, it's a soft landing. Preferably on the carpet.

Okay. Month 28. Also known as the Month Emma's Imagination has Totally Taken Off. Wait - can I end a sentence with the word 'off'? Is that legit? And does it really matter anyhow? This is just a blog people... lay off. (Now if I were getting paid to write, well... that would be totally different...)

Anyhoo, as I was saying, little Em's imagination has totally taken off. I wish I could look at the things she does, and see what she sees. For instance, her blanket. I look at it and see an old blanket (that's also it's name) that's greatly in need of a wash. She looks at it, and sees everything from her security net to a boat, a tall mountain, a bus, a sled, a horsey ride (particularly when going down the stairs), a mud slide, a volcano, a cake, a loaf of fresh baked bread, a frog... You name it, old blanket can do it. It's like the Swiss Army Knife of blankets. I should market it - could make an absolute fortune. Then screw going back to work EVER AGAIN. I'm just gonna sell magic blankets. Clean ones.

She officially knows her left from right. Jeff's been saying she's known the difference for months, maybe even years (such a father), but really no. I think up until recently it's been a crapshoot. But now, at month 28, I can honestly say that she knows the difference. But only in terms of body parts. Ask her to turn left, and she's clueless. Nonetheless, I define this as brilliance personified. Christ, I still have to make the little "L" symbol with my thumb & forefinger to be sure which is which. Oh God... did I just really admit that?



We made these cupcakes together for Jeff. They're from a mix. So shut up Connie - I'M NOT COMPETITIVE. But we did add walnuts & raisins. Anyhow, Emma likes (loves) cracking the eggs, and dumping in flour & sugar & stuff. Oh wait... I already admitted they were from a mix. Okay, just the eggs. After they were iced & cooled & displayed on my new cupcake display rack (so gay, yet so necessary), she let out a big, "IT'S PARTY TIME!!!" Yeah, she's fun. I know. Shut up Connie. Tegan's fun too. Wanna come over for cupcakes?

She's really getting along with Michael now. She actually seems to quite like him. Good thing, cuz he's here to stay. In particular, she enjoys feeding him, pretending each spoonful is someone (usually Bubbie or Uncle Bill), or a Thomas the Train character. Go figure. We're going to try limiting TV to just weekend mornings... except for Backyardigans & Miss Spider. But I think that's cuz Jeff & I like them. More than Emma. B'Bye Blue's Clues! (Or, as Emma would say, "See ya lader!")

Whenever she does a really good job with something - be it helping 'fold' laundry, making a great painting, cracking eggs without getting any shells in the pan - she gets very excited for her accomplishment & instructs me to tell Michael. Or Daddy. Whoever - but SOMEONE, ANYONE should hear the news. And NOW.

This is the face I normally get these days when I try to take a photo of my little darling:



Notice that so far this entry I haven't bothered to go on about how tardy I am in getting the monthly recap out the door? I figure you're all used to it by now. But also notice that I couldn't resist but to throw it out here now, in the middle. Just cuz.

She's very into rescuing people, and things. A very helpful child indeed. Like the other day, her toy baby bottle fell over the balcony. First thing, she piped up with, "I rescue you, baby bottle!"



A couple cute lines this month:
"I just testing you."
"I'm very so upset."

And she says "didn't" "did dint". It sounds cuter live than written. Clearly. As I'm reading it here, it doesn't look so cute. You'll have to take my word on it. Or come over & visit. Then I'll prove it to you. The weather is finally getting warmer here...

This month has also been the month of New Hair-do's. Like pig-tails. Likely came after that asshole in Loblaws commented on her bad hair day. What a turd. But his wife gave her some pizza flavoured fish crackers. Emma didn't care for them. I thought they were pretty good... but clearly that's an aside.



Someone gave her this book of stickers. Dora stickers. Duh. I'm pretty sure it was either my mother or Jeff's mother. Either way, thank you. There are now little Dora stickers ALL OVER OUR HOUSE.



She absolutely loves to draw - and is especially fond of volcanos, airports, and airplanes. Clearly she has a thing for the big.

And on the big angle, she is dying to drive a bus, nevermind just ride on one. She's even decided that when she's driving her bus, she'll bring the Brent CD along for the ride. Gotta have your tunes picked out... priorities, people. Priorites. Everytime she's sees a bus these days, she asks if we can go on it. UGH!! I HATE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION!!! But I suppose if I actually want to be a good mother, the kind of mother that wins awards & stuff, I'm going to have to suck it up & get my ass on the TTC. Or maybe I'll convince her Bubbie that it'll be fun... She's always saying how she doesn't mind travelling with 'the people'. It'll be like a road trip... at least that's how I'll position it. I'll even pick 'em up at the other end.

Here's a photo of Michael. Just cuz.



And back to Emma... She loves to help me clean - she even asks for a "ma-sha" (shmatah) to help wipe down the kitchen cabinets. Now that's cute. Even in the written version.

Here are Emma and her BFF Esther, being all sassy in Chapters (the Canadian Barnes & Noble). Shame they were without any parental supervision. Then they'd have known they weren't supposed to eat Dorito's in the store.





The other day, while riding the cart in the grocery store, we had the following conversation:
E: GRRRRR!!!
A: GRRRRR!!!
E: GRRRRR!!!
A: Emma, are you a lion?
E: No, I'm Emma saying GRRRRR!!!



She loves to sing. I catch her singing to herself all the time; in bed, while drawing, in the car. Really, anytime she thinks nobody is listening. Hopefully she won't be a completely tone deaf as I am. Although that still hasn't deterred me from thinking that if only the age cut-off for American Idol wasn't 29, I'd actually stand half a chance. That, and if only... if only I were American... Watch Out World!

She composed her first song this month:
"Stop screaming Michael-eeee;
Stop screaming michael-eeee...
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm Hmmmmmmmmm Hmmmmmmmmmm"

Maybe by the time Emma is 18 & solid in her skills, Canadian Idol will be just a little bit cool.